It Wasn't A Mistake - 01

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It Wasn't a Mistake
by Tiffany B. Quinn

How bad can things get? In his darkest hour, Jerry finds out that his life has been one big character test... And he passed!

So... what is his reward?

 

Chapter One: The Accident

A dense fog had rolled in off the Sound while I was sleeping in my tent. I can hear the drone of the occasional small boat negotiating the fjord in the fog—whoever is out there must have radar, a really good GPS, or be foolhardy. They are most likely commercial fisherman trying to make the most of the salmon season. Moisture from the condensing fog is dripping from the trees above the small gravel beach on which I have found rest. This part of the Sound is very rocky and good camping beaches for sea kayakers are hard to find. As fatigue caught up to me late yesterday evening the best I could do was to wait for an hour after high tide to claim a narrow piece of gravel which was exposed by the falling tide. I had about ten hours use of the pocket beach before it was to be covered by sea water again. Fortunately the sea has been calm in the protected cove sheltering the beach. If there had been waves then my time on this beach would have been much more severely limited.

The wet, cold, foggy weather, is a good match for my depressed mood. The only thing missing for a perfect match is the type of steady soaking miserable rain which is common in this area. My life is in a shambles and my depression extreme. The tide is also rising quickly so I must pack up my camp and be on my way.

As I pack the camp and stow everything in my small boat I wonder what it is that I am going to do—not the next part of the trip, but about my life. My life really is very unpleasant right now.

While I like sea kayaking a lot, I am on this trip in response to a very strong spiritual prompting instead of for casual recreation. The prompting had given me hope that on this trip I would find answers to the personal problems I face and guidance concerning next steps in my life. After a week of wandering in the wilderness I am no closer to the answers than when I started.

As I contemplate my next immediate move, I consider the wisdom of making the four mile open water crossing I’ve planned. The fog is still thick and I still hear the occasional passing of a power boat. While I have a state of the art GPS to guide me, I am invisible to other craft. I listen for the deeper noise of a cruise ship but don’t hear one. This passage is used every day or so by large passenger cruise ships taking lazy people to see the many glaciers emptying into the fjord that I’m paddling in. Being struck by a fog blinded power boat would be bad enough but at least they’d know they hit something and maybe attempt a rescue. A cruise ship, however, would never even notice that I was there if they ran over me.

Normally I would strongly recommend against making a crossing in such weather, but given my current circumstances, maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

I am currently about fifty miles from the nearest port connected to the road system but I am not alone. In the past week I’ve encountered several groups of kayakers and have watched a dozen or more power boats and assorted watercraft pass by each day. While this area is considered wilderness there are quite a few people out enjoying it.

This fog is proving to be persistent and thick. In fact it is difficult to tell where the sun is. At least the water is calm. Actually it is almost dead calm. There is not a breath of wind and the only disturbance in the water surface is the occasional long swell remaining from a power boat wake. Without a compass or GPS it would be easy to get turned around and head off in the wrong direction. I am glad that I am prepared.

The morning is chilly and the tide is about to overwhelm the beach so I need to make a plan and get moving. A good steady paddle will loosen and warm the muscles. A steady paddling rhythm can be hypnotic and comforting. On a day like today, not a lot of thinking is required to navigate the boat once the course is set and motion is started. This leaves a lot of time for contemplation. Given my current state of mind, I’m not sure that is a good idea.

Throwing caution to the wind, with the so-what attitude of the depressed, I decide to go for it. I’ve been stood up and I’ve seen about all I want to here. It’s time to head home. I need to cross the fjord opening to cut at least a day’s paddle off of the trip home. Chances are good that I’ll make it across without incident, but even if I don’t it wouldn’t a great loss. I have a Coast Guard approved boat whistle—which is quite loud—that might warn off smaller craft if they should approach. I also have a hand held marine radio which I can hail craft with if needed. The odds of encountering anything big are relatively low.

“This is really a stupid decision, Jerry.” I mutter to myself. How many times have I warned my kids against just such stupidity in past trips? Given my current depression I ignore my own warning. While I’m not really suicidal, death almost sounds like a relief.

With a sigh I finish packing everything into my small boat and shove off just as the last of the beach is reclaimed by the sea. It’ll be another couple of hours before another such beach comes available.

Having made the decision, I check my GPS unit and choose a heading to watch on my deck mounted compass, taking into account the currents caused by the rising tide. The timing is good as the currents will not be much of a factor around high tide. Monitoring the GPS will permit me to alter my course if my calculations are off. This is almost too easy when I recall my pre-GPS days. We used to navigate only by map and compass and would occasionally find ourselves in the wrong place when crossing blind. It would have been extremely fool hardy to attempt this foggy crossing without the modern electronic toys. The crossing should only take an hour or so and, it being at the peak of high tide, the currents shouldn’t be a problem. Dipping my paddle in the water, I head off on my course and settle into a steady paddling rhythm.

While I am fifty miles from my port of departure, I’ve put almost one hundred fifty miles under my keel in the past week. I’ve been paddling in and out of fjords, most of the time without any real plan—I have been searching for something but I’m not exactly sure what. I thought I’d found it yesterday, but the answers weren’t there. Unfortunately, now I have to get back to civilization and find out what new disasters have happened in my absence. I also have a court hearing to attend in a few days.

---< 0 >---

My boat wobbles a bit as the wake of a passing watercraft reaches me. I had heard the boat pass distantly about five minutes earlier. Otherwise all is quiet—almost too quiet. According to my GPS I’m about half way across the fjord opening. The fog ahead of me seems to be thinning somewhat as I can see a strange bright light trying to shine through just ahead of me. I wonder what is producing such a light as I have not heard any sign of another watercraft nearby.

Without notice, I break through into a very unusual clearing in the fog. The clearing is perfectly round, about a hundred feet in diameter and standing on the water right in the middle of it is a brightly glowing personage dressed in white robes. That’s right. He is standing ON the water as if it is the most normal of things to do. My boat is eighteen feet long, so I have to back paddle quickly to avoid hitting this obviously angelic person.

Time seems to have stopped. The water is not moving, there is no sound to be heard, and I get the strong sense that I’m in another dimension.

While it must have been only seconds, it feels like long minutes before the personage speaks to me. In the intervening time he looks upon me with a peacefully serene expression that shows a hint of amusement as if he knows something significant that I don’t. When he does finally speak, he does so with a soft but compelling voice which seems to pierce me to the very heart.

“Peace be unto thy soul, my fellow servant. Thy faithfulness and devotion are acceptable unto the Lord. Thou hast proven thyself in his eyes. Thou hast carried well the burdens which thou hast been given. Those burdens have helped to make thee the person thou art and have given thee the compassion which has made thee a strong instrument in the Lord’s work. They hast also prepared thee to be an even greater instrument in the Lord’s hand than thou has hither to been. No mistakes have been made. The burdens which have plagued thee recently and throughout thine life will now be removed. Take the lessons of thy life and expand upon them to bless the lives of His children and thine. He has much work for thee yet to do before thou art called home to take thy place in his kingdom.”

Without waiting for questions, he begins to ascend upward (towards heaven I presume) smiling knowingly at me again with the expression of one who knows something big is about to happen and he’s not sharing the details.

Before I have time to process his words, a small tour boat pops out of the fog and rams my kayak, shattering the front end and pushing the rest violently aside, rolling me over. As I go into the drink, I get a glimpse of astonished faces peering over the boat’s rail.

I struggle to release myself from the remains of my boat while underwater. All the emergency exit drills pay off and I’m soon free and struggling for the surface.

It looks like I forgot about the daily glacier tour boat.

I do ingest some seawater before breaking the surface. Floating on the surface with the aid of my personal floatation device (PFD) I cough up a bit of salt water. Taking inventory of my body I don’t think anything that is cut or broken. Having never actually been in the water in the past couple of decades of sea kayaking, I have opted not to use either a wet or dry suit. Being in water with a temperature not much above freezing, I hope the boat that hit me returns as I won’t last long before hypothermia gets me. With this in mind, I start blowing on my warning whistle in hopes of attracting attention.

I notice that the fog has closed in again. There is no clear opening. I feel my energy waning quickly but am reassured as I hear the boat looking for me.

Heavens, the water is cold! Very cold! I am shivering violently and losing focus as the tour boat eases into view through the fog. Someone drops a line with a loop in it over the side. I barely get the loop under my arms before a great pain seems to explode in my chest.

Just before I pass out, my last thought is that the angel seems to have gotten things wrong.

 

To Be Continued...

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Comments

I've been working on this for a while...

TiffQ's picture

Hello everyone! I've been fiddling with this story for several years now. I'm not completely happy with it. It is currently about ten chapters, but that may change as I will take into account reader comments in any future edits. So... please tell me what you think of the story.

Hugs to all!

Tiff Q

Interesting beginning

An interesting beginning and well set up to drop the protagonist into... what, exactly?

There are a significant number of unanswered questions and that is just how it should be at this stage of the proceedings.

Penny

Well, this is certainly one

Well, this is certainly one way to meet GOD and find out where you are headed. Still leaves lots of questions tho.

Very Intriguing

Interesting, and well set up. Can't wait to see where you are going to take us.
Hugs
Francesca

- Formerly Turnabout Girl

Like it diffrent

Like it diffrent

WIN_20151023_13_56_29_Pro.jpg

Well, nice start then.

Almost sounds like it could be the BC coast, not that it actually matters. I hope that the bloke was actually an Angel and he's got things sorted better than they seem at present.

Nice start.

Gwen

Real good beginning

Jamie Lee's picture

This chapter is a good beginning to what looks to be a good story.

But what caused him to paddle off looking for answers? What could be so bad he'd welcome death when it came?

What work does the Lord have for him? Does it include being hit by the tour boat? Or start with the collision of the tour boat?

Others have feelings too.