The Storm

The wind picked up and the waves began white-capping, turning turbulent where once there was calm. The sky stripped his robe of blue and put on a a gray mantle so that the clouds turned dark and mischievous. The rain began to drop in sheets, pounding the little ship with force beyond reckoning. Flannery called all hands to the deck, yelling through a fierce snarl. The crew lashed everything down and prepared for a long day. With a grim smile creasing his face, he braced himself as water came over the tall bow. Things were getting ugly.

The onslaught continued for 3 hours while Ho'okele pushed through the storm, taking on water and creaking in the wind. Three good men were lost over the side and one, Crow's Nest Johnny, lost a hand when the rigging went super tight. He fell 12 feet and managed to land on all 3s, keeping his newly formed stump, still bleeding, over his head. The rest of the crew worked hard in slickers, all drenched from head to foot with rain and salt-water.

As they made their way out of the storm, cheering went up from the men, happy that they made it though the worst of it. McTavish mopped his face with a semi-dry towel and looked into the sunlight, happy.