They were peacefully enjoying all that nature offered. The rays of sun over which the sea reflected, to form a shimmering sheet of dazzling color. In contrast to the stinging they used to endure from the burning sun of Sunnyisle, they felt themselves being warmed up by this crystal purity. By night, they were free to enjoy the quiet cool breeze, instead of hearing the sound of gun fire reverberating over the rooftop that signified someone they knew or loved had been taken away from them. And, adding to this magnificent setting, the moon like a huge soccer ball hopping from tree to tree, with its light romantically bathing the ocean, made them think what an ideal place for a boat cruise. The romantics, forced to leave their soul-mates behind, could not help but think of how nice it would have been to be able to share the magic with a loved one.
The passengers were totally engrossed in their contemplation, and unaware of the fact that they were approaching the most dangerous part of the trip. But even if they had not been seduced by the visual feast, they still would not have known that they were in danger, because they were unfamiliar with this part of the world. Furthermore, no one had warned them to expect trouble when they were crossing the chain of small islands called Macassa, well-known for the dangerous unpredictability of its weather. A few hours later, their peace would be shattered, and in that instant, they would experience far greater fear than any they had known in Sunnyisle. All, except perhaps Louis, would question the wisdom of their decision to leave home.
The rapidity with which the weather pattern changed hit them hard, especially because they believed themselves out of harm’s way. They still had plenty of food and water, and had no reason to doubt that their supply would not last until the end. What calamity could they expect to experience so near the finish line? Only one of the passengers, a little weather-beaten man called Marilien, had become conscious that something was amiss, and only because he spent all his time scanning the horizon. His fellow travelers had christened him the "Navigate ya" (the Navigator), not because he had any particular expertise in sailing, but because he was incurably curious about his surroundings. He did not like the look of the sky and was trying to get the others’ attention for some time, but no one was paying him any mind. During the entire time, the wind was making strange sounds, and the sea was beginning to wiggle fiercely, like a snake awaken from its nap. Had Louis been alert, based on his past experience, he would have detected an approaching storm. But the beautiful landscapes had caused him to return to his most cherished pastime, another reverie. Louis had been conjuring yet another childhood memory.(cont.)
To obtain the book, or to contact the author, send your e-mails to