Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“Yeah man, what's the big deal?” drawled Canadian Craig. His usually calm voice had risen
somewhat in pitch and decibel.
I then heard a loud hammer on the side of my boat, a whack that damaged my paintwork,
and bruised my fiberglass. That's it! That brought me out of my bunk and up the compan-
ionway steps in seconds. “What the fuck is going on out here?” I exploded, looking wildly
about me.
“These locals want to beat us up!” squeaked a terrified Craig.
“Why? What have you guys been up to for Christ sake?” I shot back.
“We just went ashore to look for some girls,” stated Gavin defensively.
“So? Why are these fucking guys hammering on my boat?” I yelled.
I looked down into the water and saw two or three canoes alongside; each had a couple
of angry, bare chested youths glowering malevolently up at us from the dark. I could see
the proverbial whites of their eyes, and they weren't too friendly. Suddenly one of them
smacked my hull again sharply with his paddle. This was too much for me, and I leaned
over the side and grabbed his paddle right out of his hand and broke it over my knee, toss-
ing the pieces in the water.
“Fuck off, you assholes!” I yelled down at them in fear and anger. “Don't come out here
and damage my boat! No one damages my boat! Got it?” I yelled down at them. I knew
they had not understood a word I had said. They rose in unison and clambered over the
side of the rail in seconds and were upon us with swinging fists and angry cries, black eyes
flashing in the dark and powerful brown bodies honed in the tropical sun whipping back
and forth.
Everything happened suddenly. I felt my jaw crack as a fist met tooth and bone. This was
his second mistake. No one hits my boat with an oar and then clambers aboard and hits me
in the face with his fist. I don't care what the circumstances are or what Polynesian pro-
tocol is; in the prehistoric part of my brain, I see the color red. I lose my control; I gather
incredible strength from somewhere, and I lash out in blinding speed. The local fist that
crashed into my jaw was now trapped in my hands. I twisted it around, oblivious of its
owner's scream of pain. I twisted it and imagined I heard it break. I could not stop myself,
especially when he brought his foot into action. He kicked me on my knee, and in agony I
fell to the cockpit sole, but I hung on with renewed energy and twisted his wrist even more
as I fell. He howled out in agony, galvanizing his companions to renew their attack. Sud-
denly it felt as though a hundred feet were kicking me. Blows were raining down all over
my body, my back, my ribs, my face, I was beginning to see black, and I sank down in a
numb stupor.
