The Creeper

We were becalmed miles off the coast of Northern California.
The still sea was smooth like polished granite.
The sails slapped back and forth, the sun pounding our heads.


Carl was at the wheel waiting for the wind. 
The rest of the crew was below sleeping, hungover.
Waiting for the wind so we could start racing again.


Then we under a wall of heavy, cold water.


Carl was wedged between the spokes of the steering wheel.
This kept him from being swept to Ukiah and death, which are similar.
This was one of Carl’s better days.


Creeper waves are small waves that grow over great distances.
Like sine waves whose amplitude increases they increase to become large waves.
They are not there and then they are there big.


Fortunately, the crew was experienced and leaped into action.


Mike had been a Ranger in Viet Nam and was now useless.
Carl had been a ground pounder in Viet Nam and was stuck in the steering wheel.
Both are fondly remembered for taking Pac Bell Hill and the phone booth at the Coyote Yacht Club.  
That was a difficult emotional evening for the woman making the call.


Ben had a lazy eye that got him into fights.
“Are you looking at my girl friend?”
He counted cars at intersections for the state of California.


Ben had escaped death being pitchpoled in the middle of the Pacific on the 70’ racing yacht Sorcery.
Because of his good fortune and practiced storytelling to strangers Ben drank at the bar free.
This promised more drinks.   If we sank.  He was working against us.


Anna was unmarried but hopeful and frantically started pumping the bilge.
She had hope and a reason to live.
We needed encouragement.


I listened to Anna because she was a woman and always had food nearby.
I helped her pump.     She was mentally not in a good place.
The prospects of not-living affect woman in different ways than men.


It took two hours to pump the 3 feet of water from inside the boat.
That is enough time to contemplate not having the boat to stand on in the middle of the deep ocean.
Time passes slowly when the boat-to-water ratio is incorrrect.


Where did the creeper wave originate?
Japan.    


A little bastard named Sugi on the beach threw a rock in the water.
“Die Yankee pigs and do not return to your loved ones…”


That was the beginning of the small initial wave that hustled across the Pacific to our boat.
It might have killed all of us if not for the quick action of a woman with a will to live.
Aren’t women marvelous?


That was 36 years ago.
Little Sugi grew up to be a 44 year old engineer working for Fujifilm.
Designing camera menus.
His anger has not diminished.  


His reach and hatred have expanded.
Sugi designs camera menus that no one can understand worldwide.
Like creeper waves.