Shipwrecked!!

The sun was shining brightly on the eastern horizon when the chartered pleasure boat, "Vida Encantada", sailed from the port at Ensenada, Mexico with twelve people aboard. It would take approximately four days and five nights to reach their destination -- Honolulu, Hawaii.

Late on the fourth day, angry clouds began to froth like breakers in the sky as a predatory wind irrupted, lashing the Vida Encantada with spray as it churned the serene Pacific into hawkishly violent peaks. The vessel was plunged across troughs of towering waves and yanked sideward up the next ragged and vicious slope, coming down as if it meant to bury its prow in the bottom.

Alert to the danger, the Captain reassured his passengers and changed course, thinking to ride the fringe of storm. What he hadn't foreseen was that the Vida Encantada was running right into the intersecting paths of two storms crowding together and a monstrous hurricane was crouching directly in their path.

At least that's what it looked like. Nothing was showing on the weather radar. Nothing was showing anywhere. Even the engines had stopped functioning.

"May Day! May Day!" He screamed frantically into the seemingly dead radio hoping that someone -- anyone -- would hear and come. Suddenly, a metal screech, like a giant's fingernails on a chalkboard, as the hull scraped bottom and was breached, reverberated throughout the small ship. It was near dawn when the Vida Encantada began to list...

The surviving passengers and crew of the Vida Encantada have just unknowingly taken a journey in time, as well as space. They are marooned forever on the Island of Oahu, stranded by the Pacific and over years of time, long before civilization rooted itself in the Hawaiian Islands (ie pre-discovery); a time and place where modern civilization as they knew it is no more. Is a very primitive way of life now to be the norm for them all?

You are completely alone with your companions -- without any hope of rescue or escape. How will you survive? How will you organize yourselves? Who is in charge? What will happen to you? How resourceful will you be?

WELCOME TO YOUR NEW WAY OF LIFE... FOREVER!!​

The Village of Kapa'a-he'o

~Leilani~​

Leilani sat with her grandmother and some of the other women in the hale ulana, weaving together dried pandanus leaves they called lauhala. She was hot and cross and her stomach growled from the smell of pua‘a roasting in the cooking pit. She could hear her kapunakane telling stories to the men tending the imu. Only men were permitted.

"Kapunawahine," she whined, throwing down an unfinished basket. "I will go quite mad by the time I am your age if... "

"Hush child!" Kei, her grandmother chided, though not very convincingly. "We will go to the hale aina soon and you can stuff your belly until it is as full as Nohea's."

The women twittered and Nohea twisted her nose, sticking out her tongue at the others as she was allowed only greens and herbs and was not permitted meat or even fish. Her belly was full of a child that would come within the next moon according to the Kahuna Ho-Ohanau who cared for all of the pregnant women in the kauhale and had helped to birth almost everyone there.

"No worries, Nohea," one of the others teased. "Leilani will eat your portion and all the scraps as well."

Now it was Leilani's turn to make a face. So far she had been lucky, according to Kei and the others... eating almost as much as some of the koa, or hunters and still remaining slender. It was all the running she did to escape from doing menial things. She just never understood why it was so different for the kane and the wahine.

Leilani sighed and licked her lips. By the sound of things they would be eating very soon.


Slipping away as soon as possible after eating, Leilani soon found herself running with the wind like the birds who were breaking from cover, as if to herald the oncoming storm. Her hair whipping wildly around her head, she spread her arms wide to embrace it.

The warning from the Kahuna reached her just as the first heavy drops began to beat a tattoo on the canopy of trees above her. Lifting her face, she caught one on her tongue and thanked the akua for their gift of a male rain. A storm right now would both soothe and wash away the storm that had been brewing inside of her for the past few days.

Reluctantly turning back toward the village, she stopped briefly before a pohaku stone to leave the flower that she'd been wearing behind her ear. It wasn't much, but she knew it would be appreciated.

Singing out her joy, Leilani hurried along. Her people would already be moving to one of the terraced places, she knew, and there would be no conceivable pardon for her not to obey the call.

Messalina Bishop

Wearing her Mae West, Messalina Bishop sat on the floor of the cabin, her arms wrapped around her knees which were drawn up to her chest. Rocking... rocking... Barely able to hold her balance the way the ship was tossing in the storm, Messa swore repeatedly under her breath and wondered how the others were faring.

Suddenly, the ship hit something and lurched, hurtling her across the floor. That's when Messa knew it was all over. Of all the ways she could die, drowning was just not at the top of her list, but she'd be damned if she was going to stay below and just wait for the water to rise. There were lifeboats, she remembered. Maybe they could get away. Even the Titanic had had survivors.

As the Vida Encantada began to list, she lost her footing a couple of times, but thank heavens not her wits. Grabbing her backpack, Messa slid it over her shoulders and pulled on her boots which she left untied. If the lifeboat went down, she knew she could slide the pack off to keep from drowning and lose the boots, too. If it didn't... well that was all to the good.

Making her way toward the door, she saw that at least one of the others was of a similar mind. "Come on!" the Brit called out, grabbing her arm and banging on each door as they passed, just in case someone hadn't run topside.

The sight that met their eyes was unbelievable. Though the ship was tilting obliquely and sure to sink, they were no more than a few hundred yards from the shore of an island. It had obviously run aground on submerged rocks or a reef. They were going to live!

Jake Rogers

What the hell had gone wrong? It should have been a straight and simple run, no surprises, no unexpecteds. He'd checked and rechecked the weather reports and the satellite mapping, and nothing had showed as a potential threat. And, up to now, it had been exactly that, nice and quiet. Those prone to seasickness had found their sealegs by the second day, the couple of remotely adventure-minded fishermen had lost interest by day three, they'd found enough bits of interest to keep the customers busy during what was honestly a fairly boring stretch of water, and even the alcohol stock had been kept more or less intact.

Then, all of a sudden, when they should be looking at a quiet night of movies in the galley and drinks on what was laughingly called the "fantail", the sky had darkened and started spitting ball lightning in tripfire bursts. And wherever this stormfront had come from, it was a surprise of the first order, not only to the crew of the Vida Encantada, but also to the scores of advanced weather prediction systems. Forced to ignore the satellite feed, Jake had turned the craft to what seemed a less angry, if not an actual open slot of safe water, one that would put them off course, but out of the storm's path.

Of course, even as he'd turned, the systems had started dying off. No longer able to trust the spitting screens of electronic noise, he'd yanked out laminated sheets of map paper, and started making rough marks on them as he'd started a frantic litany on the radio, unsure if anything was getting out. His greatest concern was that the nearest known rescue group was on the other side of this storm, and there was no way they'd make a simple return run to their home port. Ignoring the food and water issue, the Vida Encantada had been stocked with enough fuel for seven days of running, and was even now burning that stock at an alarming rate as he tried to find a clear area.

But, no matter what he did, the storm seemed to have a mind of it's own, and he quickly found himself recognizing the futility of the effort. He called for emerency stations, changed his calls for aid to straight mayday calls, and uncapped the emergency beacon. With luck, there might be another ship in the area, a big cruiseliner or a navy frigate that would be more willing to plunge in after them.

When the ship suddenly bottomed, he'd been scared of the implications. The charts showed nothing near by, which left few options. Either they'd hit a submerged something, or there had been a tsunami they didn't know about, and they were running along the front line, getting sucked into the waveline that was known to drastically lower the water level before it.

As the ship tilted, he'd made two last frantic calls, one for help from any quarter, the second for the living to abandon the Vida Encantada. His deck shoes slipped and squeaked as he struggled with the tilting deck, and he grabbed wildly at the contents of the forward emergency locker. Survival raft, precious food and water stores, coils of floating rope, packs of tools and flares, even the most seemingly innocuous items went flying over the railing. As the craft gave a primal groan, he followed the items, his fingers trying to confirm the closures on his life vest. Moments later, water closed over him, and he fought the clinging darkness.

Bobbing to the surface, he played at the lanyarded items on his vest, flipping the tiny control on the flashing strobe, checking the buoyancy on the life vest, and beginning a series of sharp blasts on the whistle. Three blasts, then a count of twenty heartbeats as he listened for others. Then three more blasts.

If he could reach the life raft and inflate it, he could start searching for other survivors.

If they had survived...

Karen Walker

She'd been reading in her cabin, when she felt the first wave really pound into the boat. Glancing up from the article concerning the artificial breeding process of the Arabian horse, she saw the dark clouds forming on the horizon. Her eyes focused more on them. Standing she left her magazine, open on the desk, and moved to the window. The clouds were rolling in odd circles, as if someone was stirring them, mixing them with a huge spoon. She felt a shiver run up her spine as she continued to feel the boat lurch and give. She moved quickly to her bed and sat in the center, hoping that the boat would soon get through the storm or the storm would quickly pass over them.

Her eyes darted around the room, taking note of where everything was. The watch, that had been handed down from generations laid on the desk. Her wedding ring, though she never wore it, lay inside her travel bag. Her purse that held all her credit cards and traveler's checks rested on the table by the door. She kept looking at those three things, as if they were the most important items in the world. She needed those things, they kept her strong. Sane. The watch reminded her of her grandmother, the one who had raised her after the death of her mother. The wedding ring a symbol not to let her heart become broken again and the purse full of all she had fought for to gain the freedom she wanted after her divorce.

Suddenly, Karen heard a great ribbing nose and her body was thrown off the bed. The waves beat against the boat and the wind tore at its sides. She crawled to the closet, trying desperately to reach her life jacket. The boat leaned hard to the left, rolling her, crashing her into the legs of the chair, she had just moments before been sitting in. Crying out, once more she tried to lift herself off the floor. The boat gave a hard push deeper to the left, almost tipping causing her to fall on her arm. Her wrist turned and pain shot up her arm.

Crawling now on hands and knees she pulls herself over the carpet. Her nails split and crack as she digs them into the plush carpet. As the boat rolls to the right, she lunges herself at the brass doorknob of the cabin's closet. Holding it with both of her fists she pulls herself up. Yanking the door open just as another wave hits the boat, this time crashing apart the glass window, she feels herself swinging back and forth. Water pours into the boat as Karen grabs the orange life jacket. She struggles to keep her footing as she forces it over her head. Moving quickly, she stumbles and falls, rises up and stumbles again. Finally, she reaches the door of her cabin. Jerking it open she falls out holding the railing.

The sea is raging, the wind biting and howling at her. She is terrified that her life will end this day. Turning her head she hears the crash of a beam, and watches it descend towards her. Quickly she moves out of its way, as she feels a final lurch and is thrown from the boat.

Bess Campbell

Bess Campbell fell to her knees yet again, letting out a curse. The ship was listing heavily and water was beginning to pour into the lower levels of the ship. She put both feet on the side of the wall and pulled at the door, fighting the water. As soon as she had it opened she waded in to make sure the cabin was empty. Then moved back in the walkway to check the next cabin. Ahead of her she could see some of the passengers fighting their way up the stairs to the main deck.

Bess was scared and because she was scared she was mad. She had been working on Cap'n Rogers charter for five years now and been around boats and the sea all her life. She had never seen anything like this storm in all her 28 years.

She had been in the main lounge with the majority of passengers, keeping the film going, making sure passengers had drinks and popcorn to keep them calm as the VE had rocked heavily in the storm. Making her way from person to person, trying to keep them calm, she reassured them that the storm was just another tropical blow which happened on almost every charter.

When the boat had suddenly bottomed, people, popcorn and drinks had gone flying. Bess had been thrown against one of the walls so hard, that she had been temporarily dazed. Hearing the screams and shouts, she had been galvanized into action, pushing furniture out of the way and getting the passengers out onto the deck.

But not all the passengers had shown up for the movie, so she had worked her way back to the furthest cabin and was now systematically making sure the ship was clear. She wasn't sure how many people had made it upstairs but until she checked all the cabins she wasn't leaving.

She fought her way into the next cabin. The water was rising fast and each door was harder to open. With each room she checked, Bess got madder and madder. No stupid freak storm was going to get a passenger while she was still able to move! She fed the anger, raged at the water, the storm, even the ship itself, knowing that the anger would hide her fear, would give her the adrenalin to keep going.

She had four more doors to go.

Ben Silver

Ben Silver (see my bio in the OOC)

So far, the trip had been just what Ben needed. A lazy boat ride across the ocean. Happy boat mates, mostly keeping to themselves. Heading on another high adventure, Ben packed light. Very light by most standards. A full backpack carrying his life with him for the climb ahead once they made it to shore and a small duffle bag just for the ride. He had already made arrangements with the tour company to stow his bag till the ride home in three weeks.

Along the way, Ben had become friends with Captain Jake. Ben had always been enamored with the romanticism of the sea. He had enough experience to appreciate the skill it took to be a true captain and enjoyed hanging out in the wheelhouse learning bits and pieces along the way. He found Jake to be a young, likeable captain that was all business when it came to taking care of the boat or the passengers. His youngish age was offset with the skill and confidence of a man twice his age.

The movie of the night on board was some silly movie of the seas. A light comedy to help pass the time and remind everyone on board just how much fun it can be. Ben moved up tp the deck of the ship to watch the ever changing seas and noticed the line of clouds far off in the distance as he opened a book on mountaineering and settled into a seat. Jake nodded an acknowledgement of the welcome company topside and returned to the task at hand. The first sign of changing weather Ben noticed was a not so gradual darkening of the ambient light. Beginning with his darkened shades, he finally had to remove his glasses to read as he raised his head for the first time. The clouds had thickened and darkened to the point that they now dominated the skyline. Turning to see Jake, Ben could sense the look of concern on the captain’s face as he scanned the horizon.

Tucking the book away, Ben made his way to wheel house to see what Jake was thinking, always looking to learn the nuances of the seas. Jake confided that the instruments were acting wayward and he had lost confidence in their readings. Ben knew enough to know that if a man who made his living on the sea didn’t trust what he saw on the gauges, Ben was not to question why. Jake asked Ben to reach into a side drawer and pull out some nautical charts for reference. The sea began to get choppy as the boat rocked back and forth, the first few heavy drops signaling the approaching gale. Before Jake could even react, the storm was upon them.

Ben heard Jake calmly, yet firmly bark orders to some members of the crew as he began issuing a mayday on the radio. Sensing things were getting worse, Ben headed down towards the cabins to seek refuge as the storm rocked the boat violently. As the situation deteriorated, Ben sensed things were not going to work themselves out. An adventurers intuition that had saved his ass on more than one occasion, Ben knew to trust the instinct and began preparing accordingly. He quickly gathered his backpack and cinched things down good and tight, propping it by the door just in case.

With a shuddering thud, the boat struck something firm and unforgiving as the passengers were tossed around like rag dolls. The sickening moan and screech of metal told Ben the hull had been breached long before he saw water rushing down the hall. Passengers began panicking as the screams echoed throughout the lower halls. The word had been given to prepare to abandon ship and Ben was somewhat surprised to see that in spite of the apparent panic, everyone had grabbed their life jackets. Ben followed suit and then, on another whim of survival instinct, reached down and grabbed his hiking boots, clipping them to the outside of his pack. He easily snatched the heavy pack with his arm as he raced out the door to see if anyone needed help on his way to the top.

Alan was mooching around above decks when the first raindrops pattered around the boat. So far this cruise had been up to his expectations - in other words he was going nuts. The coffee sucked, the food could have been better and for a born again city boy to find his world limited to the confines of what looked to be a boat that shrank day by day... Well, luckily this was just the entre' to the holiday, not the holiday itself.

And then there was the brooding presence in the cabin below decks. His other half, the love of his life, the girl he'd swept down the aisle after a whirlwind romance that still brought tears to middleaged eyes back at the office. He wasn't sure that anyone at work would recognise the coiled serpent in the long chair as the usually bubbly PA who old man Bligh regularly called his 'Angel'.

Alan was still waiting for the burning sword to make an appearance.

He ignored the first few fat drops that struck him, although he was a little surprised by how cold they were, and kept looking out over the rail - musing on where things had gone wrong. It seemed that he'd blinked and his textbook life had slipped 45 degrees. Of course he was to blame for what came later - longer and longer working hours that somehow stretched to include socialising with the guys at work. And then it wasn't just the guys anymore.

So things got a little out of hand. He started seeing one of the secretaries - went by the way her ass filled her suitpants and not by her discretion. Bad mistake - he'd never told his wife, and to his knowledge nobody else had either, but if she didn't know she was about the only one in the company.

The rain had increased in ferocity and, judging by the way the deck was pitching, so had the wind. In fact things were looking very bad out there - the sky a horrid purple-black and the water whipped to froth. Alan ducked back into the cabin/lounge area and then got knocked to his knees by a particularly heavy swell.

He retreated to a corner of the room and stayed there as things got worse and worse - finally he decided to chance a dash down to his cabin, trying to find his wife.

Elizabeth Davis

Elizabeth sat in the cabin reading a book. Though she had found herself reading the same page for the last 30 minutes. Her mind was elsewhere and she really did not want to be on this boat. She hated boats, only now starting to feel less seasick.

As she sat in a chair near the window she wondered where her husband was. He had left almost as soon as they had woken this morning. She shook her head as she wondered where they had gone wrong. Was it the long hours at work? Was it really lust and not love that had caused them to get married? Did he no longer find her attractive? She bit her lip as tears came to her eyes. That much was obvious if the rumours at work were true. But she would not cry she thought as she rubbed the tears from her face. Gazing out the window, blinking hard she pondered this and saw the clouds building overhead, no longer blue or white they seemed black, ominous and scary.

Standing she went to the window for a closer look and realised it had begun to rain, this was no light drizzle though. The rain drops were coming thick and fast, seemingly out of nowhere. The boat began to rock back and forth, announcing the arrival of heavy minds to match the rain.

Elizabeth's first thought was for Allan. Where was he? Was he in the storm? Was he safe? She might think he was the lowest form of pond scum but deep down she loved him. She moved towards the door, clutching at furniture to keep her upright. She had barely gotten her sealegs and could already feel her stomach churning.

She was almost at the door when the boat seemed to pitch and she was thrown onto the bed. She huddled there, watching as drawers and chairs began to topple and spill their contents in her cabin. The door was bolted down or she was sure she'd have been toppled too. She wrapped her arms around her legs and silently begged Allan to come back to the cabin.

Bess

Bess had just reached room 3 when the door came flying open knocking her backwards into the water. Already exhausted from fighting the rising water, Bess thrashed about in the water trying to get back on her feet.

Jake

One of the things Jake quickly noticed was the movement of the water. Not the deep feel of open water, but the quick movements of shallow water, fast surface motions with a faint riptide underneath. Plus, there were several upward movements of the water, suggesting an underwater shelf kicking the current into the path of least resistance.

That suggested volcanic activity, but it didn't explain the storm. Still, it could explain the sudden appearance of an unknown landmass. Even if it was just a sudden spur that had caught them.

Kicking his feet, Jake pushed for the object he was looking for, a slick yellow bag bobbing in the wash. Reaching it, he fumbled for the pull cord, and gave it a jerk, relieved at the sudden rush of air from the internal tank. He kicked back and away, allowing the raft to fully inflate. Once it had, he pulled himself up and in, giving himself a moment to toss some of the water out that had come in with him. Then he looked around, still whistling as he did.

Quite a bit of debris. Not all of it shipwreck debris, but items knocked from the deck and the storage lockers. And while he couldn't immediately see any human forms, he could make out the form of the Vida Encantada. Canted dangerously, part of her underside visible, her bow submerged, horrific lighting from within showing signs of light filtering through water. With renewed vigor, he swept his light back and forth, and continued blasting his whistle.

It was during this that a minor point struck his mind. He could see the wreckage, and he could see the ship. Not the off and on flashes of storm lightning, but a luminescence, a light source from above and behind.

With a start, he realized that the storm was gone, and the light came from the moon. Not a full moon, but a decent three quarter moon. Stars filled the sky as well.

"What the hell?" He muttered around the whistle. The sudden storm appearance, followed by the sudden disappearance, was strange enough. But the moon really surprised him.

Four days ago, when they'd put out to sea, the warnings had been specific in the weather reports. Trust your GPS, trust your dead reckoning systems, and, if you've got the training, trust your star mapping. The stars will be clear in the minimal light of the new moon.

Karen

Karen slid under the water, her mouth becoming full of the salty, liquid. Her body chilled as it submerged into the cold ocean that was now beginning to calm. Quickly the life jacket bounced her back to the water's surface and she sputtered and gasped for air. With eyes stinging and her heart pounding in her chest, she wiped her face and pushed back her auburn hair.

Scanning the oceans surface she watches debris float past her, bits and pieces of the ship that had been knocked around by the storm. Swimming over to a deck chair that had found its way riding the ocean currants, she grabbed it, rested her head against the plastic frame and looked out ahead of her. Her eyes saw the Vida Encantada jammed on some kind of rock or land mass, it's bow under the water and the ship tilting to one side. Forcing her eyes to focus she looked right then left, searching for anyone that had survived along with her.

Noticing a woman struggling in the water, she slowly gathered her courage and swam towards her, fighting the numbing fear of shock, with each stroke of her arms and kick of her legs. As she got closer to the frantic figure, she realized it was one of the ship's crew. Not remembering her name she began shouting at her to calm down. Karen, though an accomplished swimmer and athlete, knew that if the woman panicked even further, then she could very well drown them both.

Reaching her side, she grabbed the woman's blouse and hauled her against her chest, bringing her arm up to gently curl around her neck, supporting her head so the waves would not continue to beat at her face. Shouting to the woman that she would be fine, Karen calmed both her and herself down. Once she felt that the situation for the two of them was somewhat less life threatening, she pointed out a large piece of floating debris, together the two women swam towards it. Collapsing against it, she turned her eyes and looked at the other survivor, reading what she knew reflected in her own eyes; fear, shock and disbelief.

Karen leaned heavily on the large plank of wood, that she could only assume had once been part of the bow that now was no longer visible. Looking over across the water, she believed she saw something. Squinting her eyes, she peered closer at the spot that drew her attention. "A light," she thought to herself. Staring hard she began to see it moving back and forth as if searching. "Yes," she cried out inside, not wanting to try and talk, not trusting her voice to sound calm and not wishing to frighten herself by the fear she would hear in it. Placing her hand on the other woman's shoulder she pointed out the soft glow. They both nodded and began a slow, but steady swim towards the beacon, hoping that it would continue to shine and guide them to safety.

The situation was bad and deteriorating fast. He was quite sure that "bad" was going to be a pleasant memory if he spent too much longer down here below the water line.

Hairline fractures from the beating that the ship was getting against whatever it was that they were trapped on sprayed him with water as he made his way to the cabin that his wife and he had nominally shared for the trip (although only rarely were they both in it). Although their relationship was somewhat on the outs, Alan realised that the idea of her drowning or lying hurt on the floor as water filled that part of the ship caused him a pain almost physical in intensity.

Reaching the cabin door, he booted it open and sloshed through the ankle deep water as he felt the ship cant even further over and settle with a horrific grinding. At first he didn't spot her, but then her shivering gave her away and he splashed through the water to the bed, quickly pulling her into his arms.

It was, he realised, utterly insane that his conflicted thoughts about his wife be resolved in THIS way and he supposed that all the issues would return when her life was no longer in danger, but right now his heart felt only relief that she was nestled into his chest.

"We HAVE to get out of here, Liz. Fast. Grab the case, it's still packed, isn't it?"

Karen

Her muscles ached and pulled at her body, her mind becoming almost numb to the strenuous pain that she was experiencing as she swam closer to the waving light. With each small advancement towards it, another bit of encouragement would slowly seep into her soul. Karen paused often in her swim towards the safety net, for that is what she saw it to be. She would tread water until the woman would catch up with her. "We're almost there," she whispered low into the woman's ear, hearing the new sense of energy course through her. Looking into the woman's eyes, Karen thought she saw a spark of relief and joy and so when she began to tread water again, to wait for the woman, she was shocked, and devastated to not see her anywhere behind her.

Closing her eyes over the senseless loss of a life, one that though Karen had not had an opportunity to meet on board the ship, something deep down had told her that this person was special. She looked towards her goal and decided then and there to pause and remember this person, this somebody, that had just impacted her life. Though the stranger would not be known to her, Karen knew that she would always remember the look of relief that the woman had when Karen had reached her, helped her and pointed out the light that she know believes led the woman home.

Shaking off her emotions and accepting that in the end it is always the plan of a higher being to let one live or die, Karen pushes onward. Swimming towards the light she soon realizes that not only is it her savior, but a raft and another human being awaits her. Sending her thanks up into the heavens she gives the last few strokes her body can pull from her, and reaches the raft. Clinging to the sides she holds onto to it, not wanting to let it go, but to keep it a part of her. Soon she feels strong arms pull her up, dragging her into the boat. Opening her eyes, she sees the Captain of the ship, snorting over the loss of the woman, she is reminded of the phrase...The Captain always goes down with the ship. Keeping that thought to herself, she feels her mind close off, shutting her in a void of darkness, where only the sound of the strange woman's drowning gurgles are heard. Though she had not heard them, her mind projects the sound, clouding her senses, as darkness overtakes her.

Reg

After unceremoniously putting his foot through the bulkhead at the top of the stairs, Reg let fly with one of his customary exhultations when dealing with stressful situations...

"JESUS CREEPING SHIT, what sort of bllloody pleasure cruise is this, you great ponces!?" Reg snarled, giving colorful voice to his consternation.

"This voyage was undertaken with the expressed desire to FULLY relax and possibly drink myself to death, blast it all, not this sort of demented folderol!"

"Hey, Captain Ahab, I realize your a little disappointed, but what are we going to do now that we're up here, I mean aside from screeching into the storm like a loon?" The woman Reg had found below decks spoke up in the hopes of shaking him from his psychotic litany. Messalina could see their salvation but knew she could use the help of a man who could kick a storm proof door off it's hinges without stopping to think.

Reg's head snapped around and his almost black brown eyes lased into her with seething malice before softening. She was right of course, bellowing into the lashing rain accomplished less than nothing, depleting the stores of adrenal energy that he would mostly certainly need in the next few minutes.

"Right you are dear lady, please excuse an old campaigners' brief retreat from professionalism," Reg shouted over the storm in a more civilized manner. "With respect to your perfectly logical question, I have good news and bad news...the good news, as I'm sure you have noticed, is that the fucking beach is right over there...the bad news are these 6 to 8 foot swells and the accompanying rip that probably undercuts them, considering our proximity to the shore."

A touch of fear clouded Messalina's intent gaze and Reggie knew that she understood their predicament.

"The inflatable is being thrashed and is nearly full anyway, considering the circumstances so I say we use that pack of your to stay together, fling ourselves into the wash and hope for the best."

Again, Messlinas' silence and the crease between her eyes showed him she knew the stakes and was ready to risk it. She stood and unslung the pack on her back.

"When we get in the water, you begin stroking hard, I'll keep us going in the right direction and do NOT let go of that strap," Reggie cautioned as they moved to the rail and stepped over, preparing to make their leap.

"Ooo, good idea, Mark Spitz, yes I think I'll hang on," Messalina sneered at the brit as she locked her elbow around the heavy strap.

This time Reggie smiled, the girl was indeed game, her bravado in the face true peril was impressive. More must be ascertained about this pulchritudinous lass. In the meatime, Reg hoped there was real intestinal fortitude behind the bluster.

Water and waves, the pull of the rip tide, the howl of the storm. They screamed and fought together for what seemed like an epoch of human time. The blackness disorienting, they followed the glow of a flashlight and gloaming of the trees beyond the shore.

Reg started awake and gagged at the mouthful of sand he'd eaten as they'd dragged themselves a few feet away from the thundering surf. The soggy weight of the backpack reminded him of his charming companion and he jerked himself upright from the waist, twisting back to the sea, desperate to find his courageous Messalina. Nothing, nowhere could he see her bobbing. On his feet again he lept back toward the surf and nearly doused himself again, stumbling to a stop only when he heard the coughing behind him. Whirling wildly he saw her...on hands and knees, spewing the sea water she'd swallowed. He rushed to her and losing his footing, crashed to the sand next to her. Recovering quickly, he put his arm gently around her torso as her heaving subsided. She rolled heavily toward him and he scooped her up with the last of his adrenaline reserves, making for the scant shelter of the bending palms. They collaped together, a tangled pile of limbs and torso, fading almost immediately into the soothing blackness of the sleep of exhaustion.

After watching the water slowly rise in her cabin Liz was just about certain that this would be the say she would die. She was not a confident swimmer, never had been. Not for the first time that day she cursed her employer for making her take this cruise and then doubly cursed her husband for not showing up when she needed him.

She huddled into the bed and closed her eyes, shivering loudly and trying hard not to give into the tears that threatended to overwhelm her. Then Alan came bursting into the room and it felt like a reprieve. She silently took back all the bad names she'd called him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tightly.

He hadn't forgotten her, their problems were'nt so bad that he'd leave her on a drowning boat. She thought she'd heard him speak. Looking up into his eyes she had to shake her head to clear her thoughts then nodded. "Its still packed, I was mad at you.." Liz didn't finish the rest. "Whats happened? I'm scared. I can't swim. Help me Alan."

She thought she sounded so weak but she was scared as they moved to the suitcase. She grabbed it and held it as he held her and they tried to make their way up and out of the boat. The boat continued to creak, making loud tearing noises that just didn't sound good. They were thrown this way and that, the storm really making things hard on them. Was this really going to be their last moments together? On a stupid boat in a storm in the middle of the ocean?

Jake

The form appeared in his light's sweep, a brief bob from under the water. Even as he fought to put the light back, the shape had disappeared. Jake briefly considered that he was simply seeing things, but his thought process was broken by a pair of hands suddenly grabbing at the raft's side. Even as he dropped the whistle, the hands began slipping away. He grabbed for them, trying to catch whoever it was before they could disappear back into the water.

Balance was the key. One wrong shift could send both of them back into the water, but he was cautious and experienced. He managed to pull her aboard, getting her out of the water, and turned so any water she might have tried to breath in might have a better chance to run out.

He didn't recognize her immediately, not surprising with it being dark and them both soaked. A few moments of talking to her and shaking her resulted in a slight reaction. Good, she was still alive. Only slightly responsive, which was a problem. If she had lost too much body heat, or if she'd swallowed too much sea water, it would be a rough fight to get her back.

"Come on! You can't sleep now. Stay with me, eyes open. Talk to me!"

As they made their way, lurching and reeling, through the dying boat Alan concentrated on herding Liz in the right direction. A part of him marvelled at the way she looked so vulnerable and needy right now - not that he had ever wanted a clingy woman, but marrying Liz had been like marrying a cat, one got the impression that if you dropped dead tomorrow she'd be quite alright, thank you.

He was right on the edge of freaking out, but for some reason the fear and nervousness in her voice and body language helped him push all that to one side for now. He had a plan.

Just forrad of the "Fantail" was a float, large enough for two or three people to comfortable relax on. There was no way that it would go in the right direction, but he could get Liz and their luggage onto it, and launch it from the fantail. Then he would hold onto it and use his legs to push the damn thing to shore. It was going to be hard - but Liz was NOT going to make it in these waters, even though the shore was close enough to be visible.

Throughout their preparations he encouraged and drove her with smiles, hugs and squeezes of her hand. He wasn't sure which of them needed the encouragment more - helping her made him forget how damn scared he was himself.

When they were finally in the water, him kicking the float towards shore and her lying flat on it, over the suitcase, holding onto his forearms and encouraging him, Alan kept his head down and kicked, hoping they were heading for the right part of the shore, gauging their progress by the way the waves swelled as they got closer, and by the sound of them breaking.

Karen

Feeling two great clasping hands around each one of her arms, Karen begins to awaken from the dark void that had earlier seemed so welcoming. Opening her eyes slowly she looked into the eyes of the Captain of the now torn and tattered boat.

"Jesus Christ!" Karen yelled, "I'm awake!" She pulled her arms away from the man, his look of shock and astonishment at her outraged reaction was more then he had expected. Karen ran her hands up and down her arms, the sting and throbbing pain from his fingers refused to lesson with her strokes. She knew that her flesh would be bruised. "Oh well, just more bruises to go with the rest," she thought to herself.

Looking at the man, who had wrecked them and stranded them out in the middle of no where, she felt her body begin to shake with anger. Her mind ran thoughts across it as she remembered the beating she had taken inside her cabin as the boat leaned one way then the other. Her memories rushed over the sounds of the breaking wave crashing into the window and her own body slamming over the boat and hitting the salty sea below. Now, she sat staring at the man that not only she, but others had intrusted their lives to and her anger boiled.

Throwing herself at him, she began to beat at his chest, screaming and yelling at him for allowing them to be in the situation they now faced. Her fists pounded as hard as her weak muscles would let her, she shouted her words of frustration over the senseless life of a woman and the irresponible actions of their Captain. Karen was beyond reach as she continued to beat and pummel the man, not caring what she said or did.

Finally, she felt his arms tighten around her, and her body began to shake. Her tears flowed hot and heavy as the real pain set in and the real fear of what was to come settled over her. Taking a deep breath, she eased out of the man's arms and scooted to the far side of the raft. "I'm sorry," she said in a voice full of sorrow and shame.

As Liz and Alan struggled to make their way topside of the boat she was grateful he was with her and hadn't left her as she had first suspected. He held her close and helped her make her way through the water, she wished she could be as cool, calm and collected as she usually was in a bad situation but the thought of drowning terrified her.

Finally they made their way to something called a float and she was lying on it with their suitcase under her body. Alan was in the water, pushing them towards shore. He kicked and pushed the float as she lay there feeling weak and helpless. She made a a silent vow that as soon as they reached the shore she would find him dry clothes and somewhere to rest. She would help him as he had helped her.

In the meantime she encouraged him onward, sensing his exhaustion and his need to feel dry land. She looked around and tried to see if she could see others from the boat, seeing nothing at the moment she hoped they were'nt the only ones to survive.

The island was coming closer still and Liz enocouraged Alan further, telling him how short the distance was. When she could see the water was shallower she slid into the water and helped Alan walk the float in. Finally they were on the beach, lying exhausted on the float. Liz reacherd for Alan, clinging to his body as she whispered long forgotten words of love and admiration to him.

It hurt...

Alan lay just up the beach from the breaking surf, shivering with cold, and clinging on to Liz who lay beside him. She'd been marvelous - constantly encouraging him, giving him the strength to continue when he might have given up.

Now they were out of the immediate danger and he could give in to the exhaustion - feeling the pulled muscles and the bruises from the punishing surf. He felt his breathing slowing as he pulled himself together and could feel the uncomfortableness of their current situation. The sand was soaked through and Liz had begun shivering too - they needed to move.

Farther up the beach he could see that wreckage from the storm was arriving on the shoreline - perhaps some of it could be salvaged, and maybe there were more survivors out there? Alan turned his head to ask his wife whether they should get up and move out, only to find her face inches from his. Forgetting the initial question he leaned in against her and softly kissed the lips he knew so well, pouring apology, regard and love into it. Drawing back he saw her eyes were wide and vulnerable, and he almost kissed her again - but then a cold wave swamped his feet - the tide was coming in. He levered himself upright and began shaking his arms out to get the blood flowing again.

Liz was surprised but also very pleased with Alan's sudden display of affection. She could feel all the unspoken words that were usually barriers between them pour out of his lips and into her own. Her armour of bitterness and resentment fell away. Perhaps this storm was a blessing after all.

She watched as Alan stood and began to move his arms, trying to get warm. A voice somewhere in her head said she should do the same, reminding her of her promise to care for him upon their arrival on shore.

Standing she moved their suitcase up under one of the large trees and opened it. The rain had now stopped and she was glad, at least now they'd have more of a chance to dry off and warm up. She moved things around and came out with a dry pair of shorts and a tshirt for Alan. She found some for herslef and the small flask of brandy she'd hidden away.

Looking over at the wreckage that had floated to shore, seeing thats where you husbands gaze now rested she shuddered a little. Liz hoped they weren't the only survivors and dreaded the thought that they might find bodies rather than people. "Alan. You need to get changed. Then we should find somewhere dry, a cave? In case the rain starts all over again." She stood and took off her tshirt and skirt, drying herself with a towel she'd pack (just in case). Looking at Alan she waited for him to join her.

Jake

He was pleased to see her respond, even if it was a display of anger. He wanted to admonish her for wasting energy, especially if she'd been in the water, but he decided to allow her the outburst. His emotions might be a bit more mixed when it came to getting her to come back to reality. He was happy to tighten the embrace, and to hold on to her, but how much was need for human contact, and how much the old primal lizard brain responding to a wet female?

No time for it now. She finally brought herself back to consciousn thought level, and broke away, suddenly meek and embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." His own voice sounded like a stranger's throat was pushing the words out. "We need to worry about any others, as well as ourselves. Can you give me a hand here, or do you need to get your blood circulating?"

Karen

""Don't worry about it. We need to worry about any others, as well as ourselves. Can you give me a hand here, or do you need to get your blood circulating?"

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms and legs, she did as the Captain had suggested and slowly felt her body begin to warm and her circulation return. Her shivering decreased as had her anger. Looking over at the man who had been in charge of their lives she felt her shame at her outburst and fought back the urge to apologize again. He was right they needed to focus on others not on anything else.

She scanned the area, noting the debrie as she searched for any sign of life, secretly hoping that the woman she had been with earlier had actually been able to survive. Deep down she knew that the woman was gone and with that acceptance she used her energy and focused on searching the waters. Noticing movement off to the right of the raft, she let her eyes bore into the shapes that were moving in the water. Soon she realized that the people were staggering and falling onto a beach. Her eyes made out the shoreline and continued to pick up a few more bodies moving. "Surviors!" she shouted.

Scooting herself closer to the center of the raft, she touched the Captain's arm and pointed out the figures on the beach. A new burst of energy began to bubble up in her as if a spring had been undamed. She could feel a sense of calm envelope her, realizing that they were not alone and perhaps with the will of a higher power, the young woman had survived after all.

Her adrenaline was rushing as she waited for the Captain to move the raft to shore or continue to search out survivors.

Alan was pulled from his morbid consideration of the shapes moving in the surf by Liz's voice - offering a change of clothes and a towel. Elysium!

Abandoning his vigil at the shoreline he trotted up the beach to her, the rain gone, but the spray keeping him wet until he had retreated. Strange that so violent a storm had broken up and dispersed so fast. Liz was right, if the weather here was so changable they'd need to find shelter fast.

He realised she had dried herself off and so, scrupulously, avoided touching her until he'd stripped off the wet clothes and towelled himself roughly down. Finding himself wrinkled from his immersion in salt water for so long he pulled a face and then chuckled at the ridiculousness of so petty a thought. Taking the shorts from Liz's hand he pulled them up quickly and then donned the T-shirt, standing barefoot on the short grass, poking through the sandy soil here.

Stepping farther under the tree he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her in tight - right now he relished contact with another warm, live, human being. Liz had always been an attractive armful, but right now he found it difficult to move from her side. Shivering, still chilled despite the change of clothes, he pressed more closely against her, but his eyes were drawn back to the tumbling surf. People could be there, in trouble. He sighed. He knew he should go back and look - but he couldn't face it until he'd warmed up a bit. Perhaps the brandy would help?