“I know dad, I’ll flip, capsize into the ocean and never be found again.” I forced a small laugh and attempted to joke my way out of the buzzkill zone he was trying to cement me in.
“Maybe today isn’t the best day.” He paused. “The weather could move in faster than they say, or it could be worse than they think. If you get into a situation you can’t handle, that’s it. This is serious Hailey. Low tide is in a few hours, which means you may pass over reefs without ever knowing they’re there, especially if the chop gets too bad. The way you came in may not be a way out. One big oyster reef could put you dead in the water too. I know you think you know the flats because we’ve been out there so many times, but even I have to think quick sometimes.”
I slugged back the rest of my coffee, feeling my throat protest the scalding liquid I couldn’t wait to let cool. I met his eyes, and set the tone of my voice, “I’m ready.” I said. And I meant it. At least I hoped I did.
“Ok.” He took a breath and likewise finished his coffee. “Let’s go through it again. Most important, the gas gauge you know doesn’t work right. It’ll show full until it’s half empty, the slightest dip below the full line and you’re heading back immediately, so get to your spot and anchor. As soon as the sun comes up you can turn on the GPS, I’ll know exactly where you are if you get into trouble. Not that you will. And stay in Aransas Bay, do not go any further east than the lighthouse.”
He paused and waited for me to reassure him that I understood. “No problem. I thought I would head back out to the oil flats, maybe anchor off that island we saw with the big beach. I saw some good wade fishing cover there too.” I also figured it was one of the farther points my dad would approve.
Seeming satisfied with my choice of location he nodded and continued. “If you want to wade fish, remember to leave the stringer tied to the boat or better yet, just use the live well. Dragging a dead fish behind you while you wade is a good way to draw the attention of a shark. And don’t get any deeper than about your knees. The water is going out with the tide, which means a heavy current could sweep you off your feet and out to deep water before you know it.”
I knew everything he was saying, he’s told me these stories from the time I started fishing about strong undertows and bull sharks shadowing his steps as he towed a full stringer of bleeding redfish on his belt. I nodded to let him know I was listening. The sooner we finished, the sooner I could get onto the water.
He sighed, “Your mother would kill me if anything happened to you, so be careful. One moment when you’re not sure, you call me, Hailey. Understand? Crey knows you’re going out today, so just say the word and we’ll take his boat to come and get you. There’s never anything wrong with knowing when you’re in over your head. Promise me that at the first sign of trouble you’ll call right away. If it gets bad, if you get into some serious trouble activate ‘mayday’ on the console, the Coast Guard out of Port A will be on their way.”
“I promise,” I said, then forced the smile back on my face.
“Ok. Let’s go!” He said, smiling again. He took my cup, and I hoped it was the coffee that had me on edge. But if I’m honest, I was nervous, and I know he knew it too. The more he talked the less sure I was. But I couldn’t let this opportunity slip by, and besides, if I talked myself out of it I’d regret it, and I had to take the leap eventually, so now seemed as good a time as any.
He grabbed his shoes and turned around, “Oh, and check the fridge, I think your mom left you something, just in case you get hungry. Unless of course, you would rather have skip jack sushi.” We both make a face. “Ewww,” we chorus then laughed a little too loudly.
It’s kind of a running joke between my dad and I. Neither of us would ever eat sushi. We call it cut bait. My mother and even my sister like the stuff, but for us, it’s like working on a ranch and seeing how bacon is made. Cleaning hundreds of fish a summer puts the whole thing in a different perspective, I know what it’s like to accidentally taste your fingers after your tenth filet. I prefer my fish cooked.
In the fridge, I found that my mother had packed a very nice brunch for me. In a plain brown paper sack, she has a hardboiled egg and a ham with cheese sandwich. I grabbed an apple from the counter and a bag of chips to throw in the sack as well, then carried my lunch to the front door. Through the window, I could see the pier lights and my dad heading down the pier to the boat. Today was going to be a great day I decided.
I checked my mental note to grab the slicker from the coat hanger behind the door along with the solar charger from the window sill and headed out, closing the door softly behind me.
The wind had calmed even more since climbing down from the loft, and the stagnant smell of rotting seaweed would be nauseating to most people. To me, it’s a decidedly unique smell that can only be found at the coast, one that I crave during the other months out of the year when I’m far away from the water. It’s the smell of that with the saltwater, the coconut hand soap on my fingers, and the exhaust of the outboard motor that, even were I to go blind, would still paint the entire picture of my life at this moment.
The moon was still out, a perfect crescent in the already clouding sky. My dad calls it a fishing moon. In three days it will be a perfectly dark sky at night even without clouds.
I jogged around the side of the garage and grabbed my saltwater tackle box from the storage shed. Watching my steps out along the dock I have to be careful to walk straight through the dark spots between the lights. The railing along the walkway has succumbed to the salt over the years and rotted away leaving long stretches with nothing to grab hold of. A good balance was well rewarded.
“Ok, all set,” I said, setting my gear on the dock at the end of the pier where the boat sat, bobbing up and down in the water ever so gently.
My dad climbed back onto the dock from the boat to make one final survey of everything. “Make sure you keep an eye on the gas. And if you see the water breaking in the middle of nowhere steer clear, it could be a shallow oyster reef. If you do happen to beach, lift the motor and you might drift off. But remember, if you feel even the slightest bit unsure or worried, call me.”
Reaching out, he gave me a light squeeze on the shoulder. “Enjoy it. I love you, and I’m so proud of you.”
I smiled. For real this time. “I love you too dad, thank you so much. I’ll be fine, I promise. Tell mom I want something better than a sandwich when I get back home.”
“I tell you what, whatever you catch today we’ll eat for dinner when we get home tonight,” he said.
I dropped down onto the fiberglass deck. The moment my feet made contact I could feel the motion of the water, every step port or starboard made the right or left side of the boat dip and move slightly. Some people lose their sea legs after being on land for a while, but not me, every year it comes right back to me as if I’ve never left.
I took another look around the boat to make sure I didn’t forget anything, checking that my poles were secure, and the portside livewell with my shrimp was on and circulating fresh water to keep them alive. “Ok, looks like you’re on your own girl. Let’s go ahead and cast off your lines. Bowline first, and I’ll hold you out from the dock.”
I nodded, then grabbed hold of the cleat at the front of the boat and unwound the rope that secured the hull to the pilings just off the pier. Another reason to head out early is that the water tends to be a bit calmer, much easier than trying to cast off with the boat pitching up and down.
“Remember; call me if you need me. Good luck, go get us some dinner!” My dad joked, as I turn the key and waited for the engine to maintain a steady thrum. I pushed the throttle just forward of neutral and slowly pulled away from the dock. “I think a nice big redfish would be perfect, tell mom I want mine fried with onion rings. Maybe fish tacos or broiled, blackened would be good too!” I yelled back, as the sun began lighting up the sky in the east. I looked back to wave, and shout “Bye, I’ll see you in a few hours!”
And I’m gone,
drifting too far to turn back now.
I turn to wave one last time, and watched my dad yelling goodbye and waving both arms high overhead.
The running lights are on with one large half green and half red light to mark the front and a bright white light high above my head to light the rear. Once the sun begins to rise higher, I’ll be able to turn them off, they’re more about letting other boats see you than they are for seeing where you’re going.
I continue heading east, then slowly turn south, keeping the sun on my left. 30 minutes from now I’ll be watching it burn its way out of the water and into the sky. I push the throttle further away from me and gain speed, adjusting the trim of the motor until I’m running flat on the calm bay water. This would be the best day of my whole life.
5:20 A.M.
I was anchored somewhere in the middle of the bay. I was also moments away from being able to turn off the lights and finally figure out where the heck I was. I wasn’t lost, just a tad confused. Fifteen minutes after leaving the dock, I realized that I should have paid a bit more attention every morning with my dad at the wheel.
Normally, I’m readying the poles, checking the lines and watching the sun rise. Sometimes I count the buoys along the canal, or check the fishing reports on my phone. I’ve done my time behind the wheel or at the trolling motor, but mostly during the day.
It’s a little harder to see first thing in the morning, and without knowing exactly where I was going, every swell, and every pelican became a reef. My imagination became my enemy and I slowed to a hesitant crawl. Finally I gave up and decided to wait until I could see better.
I continued to watch in every direction, terrified that another boat would run up on me and I wouldn’t be able to pull the anchor up in time. But after a while, I became aware of every sound and feeling around me. I relaxed and let myself enjoy the peace of the moment before I set out again.
The rushing around this morning had made me frenzied to get going. I really didn’t care if I caught anything on the trip today, I just wanted to be on the boat by myself for once. The next time I took her out, I would pick a better day.
I listened and looked up at the sky, watching the small stars that still lit the graying canvas overhead through the small breaks that were left in the clouds. I could hear water lapping to my left, so I knew I was near shore.
The popping noises of mullet jumping out of the water for no reason dotted the silence. Earlier I could hear rather than see the soft puff of breath from a pod of dolphins that passed by. The distant rumble of thunder to the south was still too far away to see the lightening from which it originated, but it made my nerves buzz.
Time passed and slowly my surroundings became clearer, my eyes taking in the lumens and adjusting to the growing light. The water lapping to my left was a sandbar revealed by the low tide next to a small island barely big enough to stand on. I could see the mullet jumping out of the water ahead of me, and a deep swath of sea grass just ahead. I noticed the gentleness of the waves, and hoped they stayed that way.
When I tossed the anchor from the bow earlier I was still facing south. Now that I could see the rope leading into the water, I realized the tide had actually swung the boat around a quarter turn to have me facing more east. Anxious to get back underway, I pulled in the anchor and stowed it under one of the front two compartments of the boat.
The compass on the top of the console glowed a muted green. I oriented myself to North, and started the engine pulling the boat around to the South, with a slight west heading. I thought about just turning on the GPS, but I felt sure of where I was going, and I wanted to prove to myself I could, from memory.
If I really did get lost, I would turn it on, but until then, I wouldn’t bother. Plus, I still hadn’t decided against stretching the boundaries of where I told Dad I would go, and the minute I turned on the GPS he would know exactly where I was. I wanted to feel free for a little while longer.
Through the morning I had felt the wind beginning to rise, which I knew would happen at some point. But until it started getting worse, I wouldn’t bother being concerned. This was nothing.
Slowly I pushed the throttle down again and opened up the engine a bit more, trimming the motor up and down until the deck planed out and I flew across the water again. Up until a certain point, the faster you move on water, the smoother the ride, kind of like driving fast over a bumpy road.
I really wanted to feel the power of the boat in my own hands, see the landmarks fly by as I raced over the water, and make it to where I wanted to go before I was forced to turn back. I couldn’t be sure yet, but the clouds looked to be building slightly, taking on a more distinct shape, whereas before it was mostly just overcast.
If I looked far enough ahead, the horizon actually blended perfectly with the gray brown of the waterline. Staring for too long actually made me lightheaded, giving me a sort of vertigo. I shook my head to clear my vision and checked the gauges on my dash again. The gas gauge hadn’t moved. Good.
As the first drop of rain fell on my hand, I saw what I had been looking for, far up ahead.
The beginnings of the flats are marked by a series of long piers extending over the shallow bay that belong to other houses, just like the one we rented every year. Just south of that however is a deep water channel which is part of the intercostal canal. Large ships follow this route along the Texas coast, transporting large equipment and freight to and from all over the world.
Ahead of me I saw another small fishing boat heading back in my direction, I made an obvious show of favoring the right shore as we passed each other, giving a friendly wave which is customary among boaters. I smiled a little at the fact he didn’t seem shocked to see me behind the wheel. I must look like I know I’m doing, I thought proudly.
Pulling the wheel to the left, I drifted back into the middle of the canal and continued to head south. At the fourth buoy I spotted the entrance to the cut where my island would be. The rain had started misting, but not enough to change my mind. I still had some exploring to do. I never slowed as I passed the cut and headed towards the lighthouse.
The Lydia Ann Lighthouse, built in the middle 1800’s slowly took shape in front of me. Being the furthest place I was allowed to stray to, I took my time circling the impressive red structure. Reaching almost 70 feet tall, it dominated my view on the water.
I pulled the boat to a drifting idle then stared, amazed to think what it must have been like back then. How amazing, navigating through the bays with no sense of direction at night, other than a small beam of light in the distance warning you to go any other direction but that one.
I bobbed up and down, letting the waves lull me into a daze. Overhead a stray seagull or two called out, looping around in a frenzy then steeply falling to land on the lighthouse island. My chest heaved as I closed my eyes and breathed in the salty air.
If I looked in a certain direction, the light house blurred, leaving only barren, untouched coast dotted with rolling sand dunes formed from years and years of blowing sand. My mind wandered, conjuring up tall ship masts floating on the other side of the coastline.
I always dreamed of navigating by the stars. I even took an astronomy class one summer. It drove my mother crazy, having to take me to class at 10:00 at night, just to pick me back up at midnight. I loved it, I knew all the constellations by sight.
The rain had stopped, for the moment. The wind however was beginning to pick up again. I shivered with the next large gust and decided my free time was over for today. Without looking at my phone or the GPS console, I could only guess at the time, but I’m pretty sure it was later than I wanted it to be.
In the distance I spotted a lone dolphin surfacing with a puft of breath. Its unmistakable gray fin rolling over the waves then diving below the water with a flip of its tail. I wondered if she was part of the pod that had passed me earlier in the dark. I watched for a while, scanning the rise and fall of the waves spotting the lone gray fin from time to time.
A light mist covered my arms, raising goose bumps with the chill of the wind. I supposed it was time to start heading back in the direction of my island.
Once I anchored I could put the fabric top over the deck, giving me a little shelter if it turned worse. I just needed to get there. I knew I had a little way to go, but even with the rain, I wasn’t in a terrible hurry, although I did dig out my slicker and pull it around me, letting the hood hang off my back for now.
I could always fish another day. This was about something entirely different than purely a fishing trip. I pushed the boat into a moderate run, as I watched the lighthouse grow smaller behind me, turning for one last look.
I wound through the grassy flats, veering left and right over the water, taking my time and enjoying the ride. The drops of rain made thousands of rings on the surface of the water, which blended together in a giant canvas of circles. I wondered what it must look like to the fish underwater, if they found it as interesting as I did.
I was nearing unfamiliar territory now. I had decided to take another way back through the flats instead of backtracking the way I had come. I knew I could get back there by going back North and then West, but everything looked different from what I had remembered.
Scanning the horizon for my next turn, I was almost certain I’d need the GPS soon. As I reached for the console, a gust of wind hit me so strong I had to fight to keep balance. Grabbing hold of the railing along the wheel, I held on until it subsided. From the opposite direction it came again. If possible, this one was even stronger. It all happened so fast, I had no way to expect it.
My hair whipped into my face making it harder to see. I slowed and felt the boat being pushed sideways into the grassy shore. Reaching back I quickly tied my hair before I jammed the throttle forward just in time to pull back into open water.
The wind raced across the water in pulses, strong and then letting up and turning strong once again. I struggled to keep a straight heading as the waves started to pound the hull. My pulse quickened as I realized I could be in trouble.
Ethera and the Island of Evisara: Book One of The Enrovia Series Page 2