Vivo O Sonho

Tara drug the small rubber dinghy from the surf onto the sand and turned to the ocean behind her just in time to catch the final glimpse of her beloved sailboat’s mast as it sunk.

Single-handing is risky, even for an experienced sailor such as Tara. Safety was always her top priority and she had double-checked the paper and electronic charts before venturing slowly into the island’s cove to take shelter from the storm closing in on her stern. Nothing prepared her for the loud crunch and sudden hard stop when her keel struck the reef. She was thrown forward, hitting her head and wrenching an ankle, but quickly gathered her wits and assessed the situation. Water was gushing into the cabin below, faster than the automatic bilge pump could empty. She grabbed the hand-held radio, ditch bag with her important documents and a few precious mementos, and went on deck to deploy the life raft. With one last glance at her home of over a decade, she abandoned ship.

Tara rubbed her temple, already feeling a goose-egg bump. She took the dinghy’s painter and limped up the beach to tie it to a large piece of heavy driftwood. Returning to the little boat, she pulled out the dry-bags containing all her worldly possessions. She had food and water and the means to build a fire. She pulled out the piece of light-weight turquoise-blue fabric, caressing the silky texture. She’d made a sunshade from her old spinnaker and thought how far that sail had brought her and that now it would provide a different kind of use on this journey.

The fabric fluttered in the light breeze and Tara squatted on the sand, creating a tent to block the harsh tropical sunlight. She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and eased into a gentle meditation. This was her go-to method for dealing with stressful situations and it had served her well as she had weathered dozens of storms and two hurricanes in her travels.

A shadow crossed in front of her, turning the muted sunshine behind her eyelids dark. She blinked and opened her eyes to a woman standing in front of her.

“Oh! Hello!” Tara said, startled.

“Hey. Sorry about your boat. I was up a tree picking coconuts and couldn’t make it down here quick enough to give a hand,” the darkly tanned woman said nonchalantly.

“Whoa. You live here? I thought this was an uninhabited island,” Tara replied.

“Mainly uninhabited. Except for me. My boat sunk in the same spot 33 days ago. I thought you were here to rescue me, but it looks like we’re in the same boat now. Literally.”

“I’m Tara. I was solo-sailing. I set off my EPIRB before getting in the life raft. Surely someone will find us soon.”

“Joanne. I’m a single-hander, too, and also set off my EPIRB. And sent up my flares. And spelled out SOS with coconut shells,” the woman said, pointing down the beach. “Hopefully your beacon strength is better than mine.”

Tara didn’t know what to think. She gazed out at the empty green ocean beyond the blue lagoon. The grey clouds that were chasing her had turned an ominous black.

Joanne offered her hand to pull Tara up from the sand.

“We’re sailors, Tara. Our lives have been about the journey. But this destination isn’t a bad place to wait out the next course. C’mon, we need to take shelter before the storm hits.”

***************************************************

Image credit: Eric C Carter @dizzypixel. Photograph + illustration by hand; no filters.Like his work? Let him know: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/Dizzypixel

**************************************************

Written for the  To Live and Write June 2021 “Flash Lit.” We were challenged to write a piece of fiction, non-fiction or poetry of 500 words or less, inspired by the artwork featured above.