Saved by the Swell

Saved by the Swell Janne De Rijck Edited by Jan Matthieu Argotist Ebooks 2 Cover image by Janne De Rijck Copyright © Janne De Rijik 2018 All rights reserved Argotist Ebooks 3 Saved by the Swell 4 Chapter 1 A Perfect Day It was a perfect day, the sky a bright, spotless blue. A mild breeze blew over the Indian Ocean, only gently swinging the tall coconut palms. Leonard Stolk and his younger friend Steve Warwick were in high spirits. They finally got hold of the sailing boat they had been trying to hire for days. By now, the steadily rising temperatures of March had chased most tourists from what would very soon approach oven conditions for the coming months. Just one European tourist was boarding a rubber dingy that morning, to visit the so-called ornithological island not so far off the coast, accompanied by two Indians she had met only the day before. Steve had always dreamed of sailing. The day he met up with his friend, the plan had soon taken shape: Leonard Stolk would teach him how to sail. Very excited, they left the peer in the only affordable sailing boat available at the small marina of this Goan village, taking along just a few bottles of water and their two surfboards tied to the boat. They had hired it for a full day, hoping to not only sail, but also catch a few nice waves in one of the bays, if they came across a nice swell. Leonard had been surfing for four decades and had been a surf instructor in Cape Town for a few years; it was his biggest passion. Although it had been many years since he last sailed, he felt confident: “It’s like swimming, once you know how to, you don’t forget,” he assured his friend. Leonard was right about that. As soon as they got on board of the 18ft long vessel, they had the wind in the sails, the bow was flying over the ocean and sailing was a piece of cake. They were heading towards the horizon really fast, nothing crash-able in sight. Steve hadn’t felt this excited since he caught his first honker (high surf wave) a few years ago. They didn’t think anything of it, when some clouds drifted in, making the colours in the sea even more intriguing, from deep turquoise to royal marine blue. They decided to steer towards a thinly populated island Leonard knew an hour or two away from the shore, where they’d get something to eat and then get some surfing done before sundown. The boat not being due for 24 hours, they would sleep on it under the stars that night; anchored near the island. But the outlook of things can change fast in tropical climates. Though the monsoon season was still months away, it seemingly decided to give everybody a surprise preview. Just an hour after they left the peer, the wind knots suddenly doubled. Nobody saw the storm from far away, though back on the beach, some dogs started howling. Dark clouds blew in and soon the little pleasure boat was dancing on the waves like a toy. When on top of that the rain suddenly poured down, the two men braced themselves for the second part of the journey and put on their wetsuits. The island was now just a vague dark stripe in the distance. Leonard decided to keep both sails up for speed as long as possible, saving the tiny engine for the last haul if necessary. They had not checked how much petrol the rented boat had. Soon the waves were lashing over the gun-whale. Steve immediately suffered an attack of sea-sickness. Leonard steered the boat skillfully, the main sail tense as a tightly blown balloon. He felt exhilarated, flashbacks of a stormy experience many years ago going through his head, he remembered everything the old skipper had taught him, or almost everything. But fate had other intentions. Over the horizon the dark sky formed into a whirlwind, as if a vertical tunnel had made a path between heaven and hell. The swirling column headed straight towards them. The men quickly reefed the sails and started the engine. Now things got really wild. Waves rose like walls all in front and behind them. The boat was lifted up so high they seemed to be flying; the downfall shook their entrails vigorously. Leonard saw the tornado heading 5 closer and closer. “Get the boards”, he shouted over the fuming noise of the sea, and Steve helped him haul the surfboards on deck, the very minute the elements threw them in the air. The cyclone, like a playful cub, grabbed the little yacht like a toy, and the next minute existence as they knew it, earthed, dissipated. The boat tilted as it flew up high. Steve and Leonard clutched to the surf boards, flew through the air for what seemed the longest time, and finally thundered back into the furious sea. Of the boat there was no sign; the cyclone had taken it, thrown it back down and probably sent it to the bottom of the ocean. One loses all sense of time when fighting for one’s life. Leonard had lost sight of Steve. He firmly held on to the board, realizing he had lost all sense of direction. It was the heaviest storm he’d seen for years, water walls dancing all around him, and he was very concerned about his surf pal Steve, whose experience was not half what his was. Night came, the waves kept pushing him under. It would become the longest night of his life; the Indian Ocean thankfully not too cold after a warm spring, not like the ice-cold ocean he was used to in South Africa. The cyclone had been and gone, but the rains gushed down all night. When some semblance of daylight finally returned, Leonard was surprised to be still alive. The waves had calmed down a little, allowing him to sit up on the surf board now. Exhausted he looked out for a glimpse of the coastline or the island to paddle towards. But he saw nothing, only water. This continued for hours. He stretched out on the board and stared into the grey sky. Where was the sun, to orientate upon? Suddenly a black bird soared above him, way up high—no, two. Two crows. Leonard jerked up and looked around. And right enough, to the left, there was the contour of a blot of land. The current and the tide had favored him. With all the strength he had left he started to paddle, blessing the wind that blew to his advantage. About fifteen minutes later he was pretty close. This was clearly not the island they had set out for. This seemed just a small, green and hilly clomp in the sea. And what was worse, it had a very rocky shoreline. The tide was jacking though. If he could see an accessible beach, he could possibly catch a wave and jump on the board and surf in. The elements played along. As the rain had stopped, Leonard was getting a clearer view of the land, and saw a gap between sharply pointed rocks. He jumped up and surfed towards the coast like a real professional. But as he flew past some black rock formations, he spotted a bright orange shape and tried to steer a bit closer. Right enough, the storm had thrown something on the rocks. Something like... a swimming vest? He decided to let the wave go and paddled back to investigate. The swimming vest was not alone. It was wrapped around a body. Leonard worked himself closer and climbed onto the rock from the other side. It was a woman, rather thin, not so young, perhaps in her forties. She was bleeding from the head, but to Leonard’s surprise she was still breathing. He quickly thought up a strategy on how to move her. The waves seemed to calm down some more. With huge effort he got the lightweight across his board without tearing her skin open against the rocks, and pushed it towards the gaps between the coastal rocks. And, indeed, a small bay allowed their entry. Quite exhausted Leonard pulled board, and woman, onto the small, virginal sand-beach and passed out beside her. 6 Chapter 2 Shelter Time doesn’t exist when you lose consciousness. You’re in a void. Through the haze, the loud croaking of a caw woke Leonard up. Salt and sand grinding between his teeth, he tried to focus. The storm had blown over now, and the pale sheet of cloud looked as if it was ready to break open and let some sun through. He acted on an instinctive impulse, and slid both the board and its load to a sheltered spot at the far edge of the beach. There was no sign of any huts or houses, no roads or trails, no sign at all of any human presence. The crows seemed on a mission, so he followed every move, knowing birds to be curious by nature, on the lookout for food and snacks. The people from India believe that they are the spirits of their ancestors, here to guide us. Leonard knew that where there are birds, there must be fresh water and fruit. He soon wandered off to explore the area, hoping to find a path or road towards a village. If the sun did come through, the woman would be in the shade of some trees and bushes.

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