“Hard about, prepare to jibe!” The Captain roared, with no time for delay. seasoned crew went into action in unison with the verbal command. September’s weather raged extra rank, as the gale waged war against the body of the ship. The stress of the boom vibrated with crackles sounding like gun fire, as they hoped to ride the mountainous waves and drop their sails. No time was given them to consider the rigging as blade was taken to rope, cascading waves of canvas fell to the ship's floor. Even though the crew' was scurrying about the depths of the Sea plagued their thoughts, while fear moved them forward.
No pint-sized tempest would out bellow their Captain his very stance was power and his voice boomed over the wind and thunder. This ship was so named ‘The Gale’ for this was the season of rest for most vessels. However there was no rest this day. White hot shots of lightning blazed from the ceiling of the storm, splintering the foremast in pieces. It would take a month of Sunday’s to dry the hull of that ship but somehow the bow was aflame.
Men scuttled about like ants in a wind tunnel. Their feet floated upon the surface of the deck, burning pieces of mast were tossed overboard. The jetting tides rocked the vessel with re-energized vigor, and a vengeance. Alas a man was lost to the deep. The captain had feet of iron and seemed affixed to the ship as he seized the helm and waited for the calm. Even the calm was not in this and violent rocking rode with them. All hands signed aboard just to say they knew this Master of the Waves, for a master seaman was he. They were a most salty lot, but they all longed to match his iron.
Sea-legs were not enough for the crew to hold their ground; they grappled for a hand full of tethered rope attached to each section of the ship. The men were arranged like toy figurines in a child's play toy. The eyes of the captain were set fast ahead, and they were as dark as the deep, and like the deep his eyes showed no fear. Nor did he wavier on his decision, he would weather this nor’easter to clear skies or the ocean’s floor. Faith in his maker and a willful constitution brought a smile to his rain-soaked face and the storm raged on.
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