Cabins On Ocean
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There were four cabins in the big cabin cruiser. One was a kitchen, one was a living room with a fold-down bed and desk, and two were bedrooms. The one nearest the bridge had a bunk bed. The other had two bunks. I took the one near the bridge, knowing that it would be easier to use the radio from there.
I put my bags in the kitchen, sat at the desk, and called the Coast Guard station in Portsmouth. They said they’d send someone down right away. I didn’t bother asking what they could do to help. It wasn’t going to be much. The Coast Guard couldn’t rescue me if I got in trouble. I knew that, but it still made me feel better to know they were coming.
I went back out on the deck and found that the storm had passed. The sky was clear blue, the wind had died down to nothing, and the waves were no longer whitecaps but smooth as glass. The sun was high overhead, warming the deck. It was a beautiful day, but it still felt like the end of something.
I sat on the edge of the bow and watched the shoreline roll by. The town of Ogunquit was long gone. The last time I’d been here, I’d come from Maine. Now I was coming from the south, so the ocean was on my left, the land on my right. It was peaceful and quiet. No matter how bad things got, this was where I belonged.
A few minutes later, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it to find an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a mustache. He wore a khaki uniform with a badge and a shoulder patch that read “US Coast Guard.”
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning,” I replied.
He handed me a clipboard. “Please fill this out and sign it. Tell me who you are, where you’re from, and what your plans are while you’re in Maine.”
“My name’s David Rafferty. I’m from New York City. I’m looking for my father, and I came down on a boat called Cabins On Ocean. That’s all I know.”
He wrote that down. “Where did you leave from?”
“I didn’t. I left from Ogunquit, Maine.”
He wrote that down too. “How long have you been at sea?”
“Four days.”
“And how far have you traveled since then?”
“I don’t know. I guess a couple hundred miles. Maybe more. I haven’t been keeping track.”
The Coast Guard man scribbled away. “How did you get to Maine?”
“I drove my car here. Unloaded the boat, took the car back to the marina and loaded up again.”
He looked up from his clipboard. “What about the rest of your trip? Where did you go after New York City?”
“New Hampshire. Then down the coast to Ogunquit, and now here.”
“And you say you’ve been traveling on this boat for four days?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any idea how you got here?”
“No. I think I was asleep when I arrived.”
“You were asleep?”
“Yeah. I woke up on the bow.”
“Hmm. What was the last thing you remember before that?”
“Driving my car from New Hampshire. I must have fallen asleep. Maybe I fell off the boat. I don’t know.”
“Is there anyone else on board with you?”
“No. Only me.”
“Anything unusual happens before you lost consciousness?”
“Nothing. I was driving home from work.”
“Did you see anything strange while you were driving?”
“Not really.”
“Could you describe what you saw?”
“I don’t know. A couple of cars passed me, and one had a vanity plate that said ‘I’M CUTE,’ but other than that, I don’t know.”
“When you woke up on the bow, could you tell how high the water was?”
“No. It was dark. There was a lot of fog.”
“Do you have any idea how far from land you are?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“And you’ve been at sea for four days, and you’ve traveled a couple hundred miles. Did you notice any unusual weather conditions?”
“A little rain, a little wind.”
“Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of.”
The Coast Guard man took my answers and turned to his clipboard. “Does this boat belong to you?”
“I bought it last week.”
“What’s your name?”
“Rafferty.”
“Mr. Rafferty, do you have any medical conditions we should be aware of?”
“No. I’m in pretty good shape. I run half-marathons.”
“How often do you exercise?”
“Every day.”
“Any history of heart problems?”
“No.”
“Any history of seizures or blackouts?”
“Never.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Well, then. We’ll send you back to the marina and take a look at your boat. Just sit tight, and we’ll be right over.”
***
When I walked into the marina office, I found a young woman with straight black hair and a navy blue uniform. She was reading a paperback book, and she looked up as I approached.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello,” she replied. “Who are you?”
“David Rafferty.”
She handed me a clipboard. “Fill this out.”
“Where am I supposed to sign?”
“On the bottom.”
I signed my name, and she took my license and gave me a receipt. “Okay, Mr. Rafferty. We’ll take a look at your boat, and we’ll send you back to the marina. Just sit tight until then.”
“Can I borrow some money? I need to get to Ogunquit.”
“You’re not going anywhere until we look at your boat.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any cash.”
“We don’t take checks either.”
“How about a credit card?”
“Sorry, no. You’ll need to wait here until we come back.”
“But I need to go back to Maine.”
“I understand. But if you’re going to be here, there’s a bathroom down the hall.” She pointed to the hallway, and I walked away.
A few minutes later, I returned to the marina office. The Coast Guard man was still there, scribbling away on his clipboard. He looked up at me when I came in.
“Are you Mr. Rafferty?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you see anything unusual while you were driving home from work?”
“Nothing that I can think of.”
“No. Nothing unusual. Well, maybe one thing.”
“What?”
“A little bit of fog. And some rain.”
“Any other weather conditions?”
“Not really. Just a little wind.”
“You say you’ve been at sea for four days, and you’ve traveled a couple hundred miles. Did you notice any unusual weather conditions?”
“It was a little foggy. Not much wind. It rained a little.”
“Any thunder or lightning?”
“No.”
“Thunderstorms?”
“Not that I noticed.”
“Anything else?”
“I don’t know. A little rain, a little wind.”
“Did you see any ships or boats or anything unusual?”
“No.”
“You don’t know how far from land you are?”
“I don’t. Not exactly.”
“Is there anyone with you?”
“Just me.”
“Anyone who might have seen something strange happen before you lost consciousness?”
“No. Only me.”
“What do you remember after you hit the water?”
“I remember hitting the water, and then I woke up on the bow of the boat. I was sitting there, and the boat was still moving. Then I started to lose my vision again. When I got out of the water, I sat down on the boat, and I passed out. That’s all I remember.”
“What about your watch?”
“I don’t have a watch.”
“So you didn’t have your phone?”
“No.”
“And you weren’t wearing a life jacket?”
“No. I don’t wear them.”
“You’re sure? You don’t know anyone who does?”
“No.”
“Where did you get the boat?”
“It’s not mine. It belongs to my brother-in-law.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Three months ago.”
“How long had you been missing?”
“Two weeks.”
“What were you doing in Maine?”
“I went to visit my sister.”
“And you just happened to drive down here without telling her?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’m sure.”
“Do you know how much it cost to charter a boat like yours?”
“About $2,000 a week.”
“We’ll be right back,” he said. “The Coast Guard is going to take a look at your boat.”
The End