The tiny plane landed on the hills of Whangarei. The crew walked out. White teeth straight across. It was the energy of greenhorns.
The captain and the first mate greeted them with matching enthusiasm. “Let’s get you aboard and out to sea,” the captain yelled. So they cheered, and high-fived, and told stories about the tropical beaches they would see in the islands to the north.
But hundreds of miles away, a low grew into a storm. Buckets of rain fell from the sky. The waves picked up. And the gods sat together laughing and drinking rum.
Those early days were full of grins and optimism because no one knew. Meals were prepped, items stowed. The crew learned from daybreak to sunset about life aboard a boat. The captain spoke, often with unceasing excitement, about sail trim, and reefing, and safety protocols, and even how to flush the poop. The crew listened attentively and with purpose. And when it got late, they drank until the sun rose. Or that’s what they said, but they actually went to bed by eight o’clock.
On the third day, the weather window showed up. They left the dock and began their journey north, aiming for the land of white-sand beaches and people who wore no socks. But one stop separated them from the dreamy life they sought. It was Opua, the land of the ocean gods.
“It’ll be a quick stop,” the captain said. “Two nights at most. We’ll get some food, clear out, and up we’ll go.”
The rest of this story is available only to subscribers to Currents & Wind—my Author Newsletter and literary project where I share flash fiction, short stories, and reflections drawn from my experiences as I sail around the world with my wife. You can subscribe for free by following the link above.
By subscribing, you will get access to:
All past stories.
A monthly short story delivered directly to your email. These stories will always be available to my subscribers at www.currentsandwind.com
A monthly Author Newsletter email featuring updates on my books and works in progress, early access to new book releases, micro book reviews and recommendations, and personal updates on our travels.
Ok, you win. Impressive. May the God's take pity and open a huge window for you.
The gods are still laughing. Let's not kid ourselves.
More seriously, rejoice as we have a gloomy dark day in Tonga, even rain.