Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“Jesus, I don't know! We left it exactly there tied to that bollard where that fishing boat is!”
swore Gavin, shock written over his face.
“What the bloody hell! I bet those damned fisherman threw our line off when they tied up
here and didn't bother to retie it! God damnit!” I swore.
“And for that matter, where is the yacht?” said Gavin, looking past my shoulder. I spun
around in disbelief,
“What!” I looked out in the pale moonlight and could not make out where Déjà vu was
supposed to be. I felt as though someone had slapped me in the face. I couldn't believe my
eyes. I looked back at where the dinghy had been tied and where we had anchored Déjà vu
and could see neither! What the hell had happened? Had someone stolen them? I thought I
was in a nightmare or that I was going crazy. I felt as though we were in a time warp, and
we were here ahead of the time when we arrived, or worse, after we had left!
I was in a daze; I kept staring out to the dark water in the bay hoping that Déjà vu would
materialize, but she didn't. We raced back to the hotel bar and went up to the English
couple. “You are not going to believe this, but our dinghy and our boat have disappeared!”
“No! You've got to be joking you guys!” said Dave. They looked at us in mild amusement
and disbelief, believing us to be joking. Soon they realized by our shocked, white faces that
we were telling the truth.
We told them about the fishing vessel that had recently tied up to the dock, and Joe said
that he noticed a bunch of rough looking fishermen walking in earlier.
“I'll tell you what, you guys, let me pay up and we'll get my rubber dinghy and go and
have a scout around. Boats don't just disappear in thin air,” suggested Dave helpfully. He
could tell we were highly agitated.
“Thanks so much, we really appreciate it.”
Within minutes he had the outboard engine running and Gavin and I jumped in with the
other crew. He raced off towards their red boat and Sophie and Joe climbed aboard. “Good
luck with the search. I'm sure you will find your boats, you guys,” she said.
We charged off into the night making a big circle around the bay, when suddenly out of the
loom near the northern limit of the little anchorage, almost ashore, we saw a familiar, grey
shape.
“Oh thank God, there's Déjà vu!” I almost wept with relief. This was the second time in
her life she had been “lost.”
