All At Sea

It lasted only moments but it felt like an age. Water can have that effect, you see. It can make time seem like a visible current, slow or fast, shallow or deep as it pleases. On that particular day it had started slowly enough, lazily enough, but the water surprised everyone. It built up momentum, steadily at first, until it raged like a torrent and came crashing over the sides of the small vessel, with a fury that belied its usual calm. It was unexpected, that’s for sure, chaotic even, and in its violence the man saw an image of his own death.

When he had begun the seemingly innocent activity earlier that muggy, overcast afternoon, the man had no idea what lay ahead of him. He had done everything right; each little piece of equipment had been checked and used correctly, in accordance with regulations. Each little piece of equipment that had never failed him in the past, which he had come to know and love, ever since he had first been trusted to go it alone as a lad of thirteen. Since then, it was something that he had done many times; so many times that he could do it in his sleep, so he thought, and he had no reason to expect that it would all go so horribly wrong today.

But it did go wrong. And others looked on in horror as the water rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell and bubbled all around him. But there was nothing that any of them could do - the chaos had already started, and once it had started there was no way of stopping it. Some gasped and shrieked; others yelled and cursed. A few made movements forward to help the man before sensing, in an almost animal way, the sheer danger of the situation before them, and they backed away again.

By now the water was everywhere, and still it came; bubbling and frothing like a possessed animal, lashing out at anything that had the temerity to be within striking distance of its awesome, as yet unknown power. Some among them were seized with the irony that the water, so much usually a force for good, was in this moment causing so much pain. Some others, a lot fewer, a lot older, relived dark memories of dark days that they had dared to hope had been consigned to the annals of history, never to return.

Eventually the water subsided, leaving what was left of the man behind in its wake. All around was silence. At last, somebody spoke: ‘Gee Jimmy, why’d you have to go spill the f*****g tea?’ Jimmy just looked embarrassed at the mess of water and bags around his feet on the floor, and went to fetch the mop.