Stranded

Part 1: The Juniper

I've always despised the ocean, the vastness of the open sea. The creatures lurking beneath the water's surface have always filled me with terror. The fear of the unknown, not knowing what lies beneath your feet, haunts me. Sharks, jellyfish, and even sea monsters have been the source of my nightmares since I was a young girl. I would dream of drowning in the ocean, so close to land but unable to reach it. The dreams would take me deeper and deeper into the unforgiving waters, until I would be devoured by a shark or a sea monster.

For 45 years, I adamantly refused to set foot in the ocean, especially on a boat. But my husband, Arthur, finally convinced me to go sailing to Ireland with him for our fifteen-year wedding anniversary. We were setting sail off the coast of Florida, not far from where we began our life together in Miami.

Arthur has always loved the sea. Since childhood, he would embark on long trips and adventures with his father. After graduating, he became a fishing captain himself. Every few years, he would sail to Ireland to visit his family, leaving me at home with our two children. But this year, he convinced me to join him. In my mid-thirties, I decided it was time to experience something exciting, to leave the nest. So, Arthur purchased a beautiful houseboat, our whole family fell in love with it, even though we never ventured far from land.

As we made our way up the decks towards the boat, I could sense the panic rising in my chest. Arthur must have felt my hesitation because he laced his fingers with mine and gave a reassuring squeeze. I looked up at him and managed a small smile. He truly is an amazing husband.

"Are you okay? Are you sure you're ready for this?" Arthur asked, concern evident in his big brown eyes behind his black-framed glasses. I nodded in response.

"Yep. It's now or never." I took a deep breath and pushed forward.

But the uneasy feeling didn't dissipate; if anything, it grew stronger as we approached our boat, The Juniper, named after me by Arthur to persuade me into more sea adventures. And it worked, considering the boat was a stunning masterpiece, built with dark wood, boasting a full kitchen, a cozy living room, and a bedroom on the main deck. It had a fully stocked bar below deck and two bedrooms upstairs, with a spacious balcony wrapping around the top deck. The steering wheel proudly sat at the front, accompanied by a large leather couch. Over the past year, we had taken more day trips and overnight stays off the coast of Florida than ever before, but we had never ventured this far into the open sea, never this far from land.

"I checked the weather for the next few weeks," Arthur reassured me as he helped me onto the main deck of the boat. "It should be sunny with clear skies for most of our trip."

"Should be?" I gulped, struggling to hide my panic.

He stepped closer, gently taking the heavy duffle bag off my shoulder and placing it on the deck. Cupping my face in his hands, he spoke softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "Listen to me. I've made this trip countless times in my life, even through storms. I won't let anything happen to you, okay?"

I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck, breathing in the scent of his familiar cologne that brought me comfort over the past fifteen years. He always reassured me. We would be okay.

The day passed quickly as we unpacked our clothes and prepared the necessary equipment for the rest of the journey. Arthur took care of everything related to the boat, while I swiftly handled the interior chores. Watching him get the ship ready, checking the gas, engines, and sails, helped ease my nerves. Together, we double-checked everything on the list, ensuring we had enough supplies and not forgetting even the smallest essentials like our toothbrushes.

After about an hour, we finally set sail. I settled onto the white leather couch next to Arthur as he steered the boat, watching as the land gradually disappeared from view. He glanced at me with compassionate eyes, trying to reassure me that I would come to love sailing as much as he does by the time we returned home. But I remained skeptical. Every time my mind wandered, anxiety would creep in, bombarding me with 'what if' scenarios. What if there was a storm? What if the ship flooded? Even the supposedly unsinkable Titanic met its tragic fate on its maiden voyage. What was stopping the same fate from befalling The Juniper?