I scrambled excitingly onto the boat, like a little eight-year-old boy. I was so enthusiastic about boarding my first boat. I had planned this event for ages now. I knew exactly where I wanted to travel.
As I got on the boat, I felt tremors up my spine, like something was wrong, or out of place. But I discarded those thoughts and focused on my boat. It was truly splendid. The forty-foot, unsinkable, black sun seeker stared at me. Rays of light gleamed passionately into my eyes, portraying pure beauty. The wind blew gently onto my pale face. I was lost for words. The
inside of the boat was magnificent. The chestnut brown leather seats were my favourite part.
I departed on my journey, trying to leave all my negative thoughts behind. I could only feel enjoyment. I set of from the east coast of America, heading for the Bahamas, I knew I would have to cross the Bermuda triangle, which thrilled me, as I wanted to see what it was like there.
I was traveling alone. My family wanted to stay behind for religious reasons. My wife believes in the Bermuda triangle theories, but I told her that it was nonsense, and that I would prove to her that she was crazy.
I was one hundred miles out, feeling confident. My boat was steadily cruising along smoothly, gliding and cutting the water like it was nothing. My twin-engine two hundred and fifty horsepower was going wild. The tremors that came out of it were marvellous. I felt like I could take on anything.
I approached the Bermuda triangle with confidence, feeling good about my journey. But as I got increasingly closer, the tremors in my spine came back. I started feeling hesitant about entering the triangle. I could see a storm raging nearby. I tried to avoid it, but realised that it was rapidly coming very close. Soon, it had engulfed me. I’d realised that there was no way
out. I was trapped. I struggled to stay calm and not burst into an outrage of panic. I started to accept my fate when I saw the waves grow progressively immense. Then, the boat stopped in the middle of nowhere. I sat there, head in hands. Tears trickled down the side of my icy face. Minutes felt like hours. Seconds felt like minutes. Time moved slowly, yet my mind was thinking rapidly about everything I would lose. I thought of my family, especially my beautiful wife. She was my only hope. I grabbed the hope and pulled myself together. I embraced the situation and went headfirst into it. I felt out of control, being pushed around by the enormous waves, but tried desperately to fix the engines. I didn’t have long until the centre of the storm would hit, so I had to be quick. I was coming to feel that I had no
chance, but the engines started, and I finally was relieved of the thought of death.
The storm started to fade away. I felt safe. A reassurance swiftly hit me. I made it. I carried on my journey successfully. I arrived at Nassau, the capital of the Bahamas, and instantly purchased a plane ticket back to Miami. I called my wife, and told her the story. She didn’t believe me at first, but came to the realisation that I almost died, and erupted into tears.
I sat in the airport, shaking. It had only just hit me, the fact that I had almost died. I went into a breakdown. My face started tingling, my fingers quivering uncontrollably. My mouth started frothing, and everything went black. I woke up, three hours later, to the sound of beeping. The doctors told me that I was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, and that I had a heart attack. They said that I had to fly over to America to get the best medical attention possible, because I was in critical condition. A helicopter came to pick me up. The mere sound of the blades spinning gave me a flash back of the roaring engines on my boat, I felt numb and sick. The pilots
started panicking and gave me morphine to numb the pain. I fell asleep.
The pilots woke me up, and all I could see was water. The same water I almost perished in. But in the distance, I saw land, and instantly I realised I was almost home. So, close. A feeling of happiness overtook me. I was finally home. We were thirty minutes away, when a huge thump came from the helicopter. My heart raced, sirens came from the cockpit. The
pilots desperately tried to regain control. But this time, my fate was inevitable. The helicopter was promptly descending. The seconds before I hit the water, timed stopped. The only thing in my mind, was the sheer thought of nothing. Just blankness.
