Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Waterspouts formed here and there, and the strangely curved, pipe-like funnels weaved and
wound their way into the dark, cloud canopy above. I had heard it was best to avoid these
disturbances as much as possible. I wondered what they could do if one crossed our path?
Would we be able to outrun one of these weird dancing dervishes? As fate would have it,
we soon found out, which reminded us of that old saying, “Be careful what you wish for,
you may get it.”
Sometime around midday, a waterspout was spotted on the starboard bow: it looked alarm-
ingly close. The boat had been motionless all day, and we were hiding from the blinding
noon heat. An awning had been set up earlier for shade in the cockpit. All attempts to sail
had long been abandoned, and the motor was used for several hours only in the cool of the
night.
The spout appeared to be gaining on us, as details of the tube could now be seen. It was
bent in the middle, like the crook of an arm. It revolved around slowly and menacingly,
and we had all come up to watch. In silence and as if hypnotized, we watched the inexor-
able path it followed, and as Murphy's Law suggested, it was bound for Déjà vu. It was
pointless attempting to outrun it, as the little engine generated a mere four knots an hour. It
would be useless pulling up sails, and it was too late to remove the awning in the cockpit.
We all froze and watched with horror as the weaving snake gathered in size and strength,
menacing above our little boat. We began to hear the whoosh of the wind being generated
from within. We watched the sea in its path begin to break up and fly off in spume and
spray. We felt the icy wind as it swept over the boat, and still the funnel advanced. The sky
had blackened, blocking out the sun's bright light. Quickly, the wind gathered strength; we
heard as it shrilled through the rigging wires on the mast.
The boat heeled over suddenly, as though a giant hand had smacked it. We watched frozen,
as the tunnel appeared now, huge, black, ugly, and twisting malevolently. In a flash it was
on top of us, howling angrily about: the wind increased in strength to around fifty knots
or so, and the temperature dropped. The mad flogging of the awning was deafening, and
wavelets from the sea were being swept up and over the decks. The girl screamed and held
my arm. Herman had gone pale and was staring into the maelstrom. I gripped the side of
the coaming with both hands, knuckles white, feeling helpless to do anything, yet marvel-
ing at this freak of nature. All around us was spindrift - dark, noise, and screaming wind -
lasting for what seemed like an age. Soon, however, it lessened in intensity, and suddenly
it was gone, weaving its strange, eerie dance across the purple sea.
The silence returned and we broke out in nervous laughter and relief. “Oh my God, I
thought we were all going to die!” laughed the girl in relief.
“Let's hope we don't get too many of those!” I said hoarsely. They agreed heartily.
