Surviving the Impossible

The Raft

I could hear the icy water outside crashing up agains the Explorer, making it rock back and forth. Up top, men were shouting to each other. Someone was yelling to me. What was he saying? "Come on! We gotta go. You're gonna have to get to shore by the raft."

I slid my yellow rain coat on and headed unsteadily over to him. He pushed me up the stairs, hurrying me on. There were eight other kids atop the boat and we made our way over to them.

A boy, maybe 15 or 16, was helping the younger children onto the raft. Soon, he was reaching out to me, the last person. I couldn't help but notice that his arms were oversized and his biceps were strong. He pulled me into him and soon I was on the crowded raft.

A man on the boat cut the rope and we plunged into the icy water. That boy and another two rowed the raft away, looking for land.

The children were getting sea sickness and puking over the edge. Some of them were crying. I made my way steadily over to one girl who was crying raindrops and I hugged her close. Shushing her I said that it would be alright and I started to sing softly to her. It was a song that my father had taught me. The crew normally sang it when they were working. Soon, the whole raft was buoying over the waves, singing the song of the sailors.

"Land!" someone shouted, pointing to the left. Everyone turned their head and strained their neck to see. The boys directed the boat over to the big blob.

Why couldn't I just have a nice, short, hurricane free journey to Grandma's in Europe?