The a.m. Train

Summer on the water was my preferred state of being, apparently I got it from my Grandfather who was a seasoned sailor. I loved the way the wind and water worked in harmony to push and pull us along our journey. ‘It is one of the gods greatest gifts, the wind’ my grandfather would say. He and my grandmother were originally from Greece but spent half the year in San Francisco to be closer to me, mom and dad. They believed that the gods were the wind that brought rain to our gardens, that carried warm air across our summer skin and that filled our sails when we were on the water. When my grandmother passed away at the beginning of my 8th grade year, we spread her ashes in the ocean so the gods could continue to work through her and bring more love to the world. My grandfather channeled his grief into spending more time on the boat where he felt closest to her and I decided to join him. 

Year later, I learned to sail the summer before I started high school. I hated how in traditional school it would be months before I was tested on a subject that we covered, in sailing school I would learn something in the morning and practice it everyday afterwards. Grandpa encouraged me to learn something I’d be proud of before I started school to boost my confidence. I was a solid C student, I was strong in Latin and Science but struggled in Math and Geography. Similar to the Latin configuration of words, every piece of the sailboat had a purpose and function. 

I was the only girl in my sailing fleet but I had one friend, Mason, who made each day brighter. Mason was from Berkeley and enrolled in the sailing course to learn how to sail around the globe. In San Francisco, the summer is cold and windy. Between being pelted in the face with salty water from the waves and listening to our classmates corny jokes, by the last week of class Mason and I were over it! As soon as I was finished with my lesson, my grandfather and I planned to celebrate with a trip outside the bridge. On our last day, Mason and I traded compasses, 

“This way we will always remember.. where we started” they said with a somber tone as if we were saying goodbye forever. 

“Never forget me! I’ll call you when I’m back!” I said with a sarcastic smirk. 

The morning of our trip to the Farollones the masts were singing with the wind as we approached the marina, an exciting start to the day for water sports. “I’ll go and check the tide log, can you set up the boat?” My grandfather asked with a stern smile. He knew I loved setting up the boat. It was a meditation for me, just like how some people like to organize things. I liked how everything on a boat had a place, flashlight, right here on the wall, life vests– under the bench. Everything on the boat has a place and if it’s not there it’s also a sign that something is wrong. This was the longest trip on the sailboat I had ever taken, I could just imagine what it looked like from off the coast of Point Reyes, or during sunrise in the morning when the light creeps over the mountains and through the crevices of the valley. The last part of the checklist was to confirm my route with Grandpa, we had discussed it the night before but I remembered a question regarding our route that I forgot to ask last night. Reading the tide logs was not my forte but if I wanted to be a seasoned sailor I needed to learn.

The day was beautiful. It was windy enough to give us speed but sunny enough to enjoy the journey. Grandpa had let me take the boat out of the marina– AKA the shoot– was world renowned for its difficulty due to the shallow bay and rocky shores on each side. I heard Mason’s voice, “don’t mess it up here, that would be so embarrassing to not even survive the shoot”. We had practiced it every day of our training and I had it down. The wind was strong but luckily I had trained in the wind, I was prepared. ‘Shore on starbird’ I called out, ‘shore on port’ Tak-ing– the wind filled our sail and we were clear, I had made it out of the shoot and the wind had filled the sails quickly taking us in the direction of Angel Island. The day was glorious, it took us almost 4 hours to get out of the bay but when we made it under the bridge we made a wish and we were living the dream. All of a sudden it was 8:15 pm and I realized I forgot to ask Grandpa about his calculation in the tide log. He was sitting in his room with a book in hand, as he usually does in the evenings– he was a big reader. Before I entered I stopped abruptly, he was crying. I had only seen him cry when my grandmother passed but even then it was a happy cry. We had thrown a celebration of life ceremony because she believed that while people’s physical form has an expiration date, their spirit lives on in many forms around us. I didn’t know how or whether to approach him but I just figured he could use a hug so I knocked and let myself in. 

“Gianna is that you?”

“No grandpa it’s me, are you okay? I jus–“

“Get out! GET OUT NOW!”

I ran down the hall to my room confused at what had just happened, tears running down my face. He had never spoken to me that way. I was confused. Why was he crying? What book was he reading? Is he mad at me?

The next morning I avoided him, trying to find other activities that needed to be done, checking the sails, monitoring our progress and the radar. 

“There you are, good morning sweetheart! How did you sleep?”

What did he mean? How did I sleep? Where did I want to start, um I had slept terribly, you yelled at me, made me feel like crap and now I’m avoiding you.. But instead all I said was,

“Okay, I guess..”.

“It looks like the gods will bring us some showers this afternoon. Nothing we haven’t seen before but we should prep the deck”

The tide log! I remembered why I even came into his room in the first place. However, now that things seem to be back to normal I didn’t really want to stir the pot…

But this was only a weekend trip, I thought. I continued drinking my morning tea when I saw loose papers under my mug. Grandpa never keeps papers out on the deck, it’s a slipping hazard. I picked them up and began reading what seemed to be trip plans or a route of some sort. Were these ours? The calculations didn’t seem like what we reviewed before we set off. The route seemed completely foreign to me as if it were from, 

“Bermuda Reef?!” the title read.

Were these the plans that were packed instead of the ones we created before leaving? This is definitely weird. Done hiding, I decided it was time to talk, we were supposed to be doing this together and having fun. This is a celebratory trip after all.

I found him on the front deck basking in the sun, he looked so peaceful looking out at the ocean. This nauseous feeling was building inside me, I hated confrontation, I thought– who am I to question such a veteran sailor on something as basic as our rote? He turned to greet me and before I could let him the word vomit came out,

“Are we off course? I found this on the deck. It looks like a route or something but not ours. I thought we were scheduled to arrive early this morning..I tried to tell you this last night when you yelled at me and acted like it never happened.. you’re supposed to be teaching me and hanging out with me and it’s all confusing, where are we?!”

It was out, it boiled up and over the top. Regret and also relief washed over me and a big inhale brought life back into my lungs.

“Honey, I’m at a loss of words. First of all I am so sorry, that must have been scary for you.”

“It was! I didn’t sleep at all last night, why don’t you remember?”

“I don’t know what to say, I have no recollection of this event..which is strange…” He started to look around as if checking for clues to where we are. “What I do know is that we only have a few hours until dark and we do need to figure out where we are and plan a new course of action.” He looked at me with his kind blue eyes, “You were right about being off track, thank you for coming to me. I am unable to find the plans we made before leaving, I suggest we call the coast guard now and let them in on what’s going on. We need to act quickly honey if what you say is true, this is consistent with a syndrome called sundown, it’s an early sign of dementia where you become a bit confused and your behavior changes in the later hours of the day. Without your grandma around I really don’t talk to many people in the evenings and I haven’t had anyone tell me this before. Can you work on targeting our location while I will radio the coast guard?”

“Of course, Grandpa,” I replied, terrified. Dementia? I never thought this could happen to such an active person.

“SOS we’ve gone off course and need assistance. There’s two of us, one experiencing possible signs of dementia and the other a 13 year old female”

I scurry down into the room once I’ve heard he’s made contact.

“Dispatch copy, what are your coordinates?”

“Here grandpa, here we are, what do you think?”

“Wonderful job honey. I am..”

his voice choked up.

“I am proud of you” Grandpa was always the one to take care of others. He was a doctor with his own private practice, everyone always counted on him for his sound reasoning and problem solving skills. 

“We are at 142 lat 150 long headed NW at 8 in the late afternoon to early evening”

“Take this book” Grandpa handed me the book he was reading last night, ‘Anemoi’.

“It has everything you need for when I am away. Grandma gave it to me for if I was ever shipwrecked during one of my adventures on the water, the gods would guide me back.”

“Grandpa, how will this help on this trip? Why were you reading this last night–”

“No, I often read this when I miss your grandma. Being out at sea I missed her and this reminded me that I always have a way back to her– home– and you do too Bella, we will get through this.”

“Follow the directions given by the coast guar–” 

BOOM

A loud crash shook the entire boat, throwing me forcefully to the starboard side. My head hurt but I heard the radio faintly in the distance. I tried to get up and check it only to find our cabin filling with water. 

BOOM

Another crash and set of creeks sounded as the boat started to tip into total darkness. 

I awake the next morning to a number of doctors and my parents scurrying, “she’s waking up she’s waking up!” 

“Bella, can you hear us?” my mom cried, it was a question but a pleading cry, please hear us please be waking up.

“Come back to us honey”

“Where’s grandpa?” I replied

“You two were in a terrible crash while sailing. The coast guard found you on the shore of the Farallon Islands, they had not found grandpa. You had a flotation device attached to your hand, that saved you.”

It was the book Grandpa gave me. On the back it read, ‘Created by your wind from within’. Outside my hospital window the overcast sky was being pushed out of the way to reveal the moon and the stars. There they were, never far.