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The following story was written by Hank Rempel, a senior living in B.C. He is hoping to have these and several others he has written published. Does anyone know how he might accomplish this? Email him at rempel@island.net with any suggestions.
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Never Stick Your Nose Out A Porthole
When I was fourteen, I found myself up the British Columbia Coast fishing for salmon on my Dad's 29 ft. gillnetter, " Tuffy". We had a pesky problem that summer with a leaky exhaust manifold but since we were hundreds of miles up coast it was something we had to live with. Repair shops were few & far between up there in Rivers Inlet. We had finished the season of 3 months fishing & had just left for home. It was a beautiful sunny day, nice & calm. The water was like a mirror.
My Dad had taken his usual position, his nose stuck out the open porthole with his head blocked up by several pillows. He was having a short nap. We were just off Cape Caution as we sailed serenely along. Things were nice with the grueling months of intense fishing now over. The war was over; the world at peace & so was dear old unsuspecting father. Yes, we had had a good season. The boat had performed well except for that pesky exhaust leak,"oh well"---snore !!!
The sun was hot. I've been at the wheel for an hour now. I'm bored with reading & was wishing that the other 7 boats that we traveled with would raft up so we would only have to steer with one boat instead. Hey!! What's this coming? Looks like a steamship! I'll swing over a little closer. Hmm, it looks
like a big cruise liner. I'll get a good view as she passes by. Lots of people standing on deck, waving. I'll wave back. Boy what a beautiful ship!! Wow!! Look at the wash she's throwing up!! I think I'll just swing over into them & meet them head on. I'll make ol' Tuffy buck a bit. I'll slice them big waves on an angle, wow!! They're huge!! This'll be fun!! Just as the first one hits, old Tuffy rises up high & slices down into the first trough. I remember that Dad has his nose sticking out the porthole on the side of our hull. Frantically I gun the engine & swing the wheel over hard to port in hopes of saving Dad. Too late!! I look down just in time to see about ten or twenty gallons of water gush through that porthole. The impact so great that it pushed Dad off his lofty perch & he came up sputtering, gasping for air, certain that we were sinking. The boat was rearing & bucking. By the time he got his wits about him, he looked out at glassy flat water, no storm, nothing?? The boat was sailing serenely along, just a little motion from after that big wash. WHAT?? WHAT??
Nothing Dad, just a few waves from that cruise ship behind us Dad.
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