Photo of Capt. Bill's ketch,
Defiant (right), and Bronwen McKiever's boat,
Sea Swan (left) after finding Rose's final resting spot.
A segment from the new book, Sail With Me (click this link to learn more)
We'd agreed to help a good friend by finding a beautiful, tropical resting spot for her deceased best friend's ashes. My boat,
Angel, got to be the one to transport them and as a result, Capt. Bill regularly teased me about the possibility of having a "ghost" on board.
That season's cruise was unusually hectic. We faced a stormy spring and numerous technical issues with both of our boats. This segment begins just after the impeller on
Angel's diesel failed. After I replaced it, I took my dinghy,
Squishy, over to
Defiant for an evening social. We were anchored in Card Sound, south of Miami where we cross to the Bahamas...
"You sure it wasn't your ghost giving you bad luck?" Bill asked, somewhat serious.
"I don't have a ghost," I responded, a bit peevish. "It's just a little box! It's not hurting nothing. We're doing a good thing for Rose, finding her a nice resting spot that's way better than a dark closet, so why would she haunt me?" I folded my arms, trying to conceal a growing uncertainty. "Right?"
"Uh-huh, okay. Whatever you say," Bill took a swig of beer, leaned back and squinted at me. "I still think it's bad luck."
"You want to carry the box of dead body ashes for a while?"
"Hell no!"
Sitting in
Defiant's cockpit, we watched thunderstorms roll off the Everglades and flash over Florida's mainland to our north. The western sky grew luminous with streaks of orange and magenta as the sun set over the tattered remnants of rainclouds.
Dropping the subject of ill luck or ghosts, Bill and I discussed tomorrow's goal of transiting through Biscayne Bay toward Miami. Then, we finally focused on some recent good news. Our cell phones still working, Bill had earlier received a call from Bronwen McKiever, a good friend and cruiser in southwest Florida. She was sailing her boat,
Sea Swan, in our direction and planned to meet us in Miami, and then cruise with us.
As we retired to our respective boats, the southwest breeze, an unusual direction for this time of year, was a gusty 15 to 20 knots, but the seas were smooth. I slept deeply until just after midnight, when I suddenly awoke. Vexed by the abrupt transition from rest to wakefulness for no apparent reason, I rolled out of
Angel's bunk and felt compelled to peer outside. Peeling the bug screen from part of the companion way, I glanced outside. In the light of a near full moon, I could discern that
Angel's surroundings were unchanged. Still, something was wrong.
Defiant was gone. Hastily untangling from the bug screen, I jumped into the cockpit and fretfully glanced about. At first, I thought that Bill had moved, but the idea made no sense. Then I spied what looked like
Defiant's anchor light on the far end of Card Sound. Intuitively knowing that it was my companion cruiser, I jumped into
Squishy and raced toward the distant light. As I approached, the ketch could be seen, sideways to the wind. She was dragging anchor.
Pulling up to the boat's stern, I jump aboard, roused Bill, and blubbered at him. He was instantly awake. I knew there was a shallow bank directly behind us and the drifting
Defiant would soon run out of wiggle room...
Excerpt from Sail With Me