THE CHALKSTORM SEA
The sea was brilliant blue and freshened by a strong west wind.
It kicked spray, as white as linen sheets, above the freeboard.
Like wings, they were. Like the breath of angels. The sail buffeted
under the strain. Buffeted and popped. Then it would catch the wind
a bit cleaner and lean the sloop into the oncoming whitecaps. The
sun sparkled a thousand times on the crest of each wave. There were
few clouds and what there were looked like disintegrated cotton
puffs. The breeze was too brisk for them to hold together. The
mouth of the legendary Oronoco lay astern and the island of Aruba
lay twenty miles off the starboard beam. And there, with a thousand
miles of open sea ahead, there in that boundary between two worlds,
there in that paradise that all sailors seek, a time when sun and
spray and breeze peaks the senses and gives joy to existence, I saw
a sight not often seen. A waterspout materialized before my prow,
corkscrewing it’s way toward a sparkling heaven. In any other time,
in any other place, I would have turned and ran and done my best to
avoid it’s wrath. But this day, this perfect day, I raced on all
the more, bearing down on the whirlwind, trying to catch it before
this pillar of God disappeared. I laughed! I shouted for joy! I
raced on to what would be certain doom to those who cared. But as
gently as it came, so it disappeared. Yet I laughed! Yet I shouted
for joy! But now I raced only the wind, the spray, and cotton puff
clouds. I had ridden the wings of angels, and seen existence
delighting as a waterspout.
~EraSeek