Stranded Surprise. A short story...
Please note, that unlike my full length novels, these short stories have not been polished with the help of my editor.
|
A LOUD crack of thunder failed to dampen my excitement as I juggled my fishing
rod, suitcase and tackle box and raced down the pontoon to the house boat at the end of the jetty. “Open the gate,” I called to my father who was examining a rope as thick as his forearm. The gate flipped open and I stepped over the whitewashed deck and onto the houseboat that would be our home for the next five days. Quickly scanning the lounge room and kitchen, I noted the small TV on the wall, then scooted down the hallway in search of the bedrooms. |
As I thought, my brother and I would be sleeping in bunks and as the oldest I declared the top bunk as mine. After dropping my fishing rod, I hoisted my suitcase onto the top bunk. I climbed the short ladder and then tipped the stuff out all over my bed. Satisfied that I’d secured my position, I retraced my steps back to the car for the next load.
A fat raindrop fell on my cheek and I looked up at the swirling black clouds. The threat of a storm had the marina in a whirlwind of activity. People raced in and out of boats, securing anything that could move, tightening ropes and closing windows.
“Hurry up, boys,” my mother yelled from the boot of the car. “It’s going to pour down.”
My brother raced past me lugging heavy grocery bags but his eyes glowed with excitement. Dad fussed about with the items on the roof racks as mum loaded me up with more bags. I spun on my heels and raced back down the planked jetty. The air suddenly came alive with rain bullets and fierce wind that pushed me along.
The surrounding house boats rose up and smashed into rubber sidings. Sounds of breaking glass and splintering boards echoed about the marina as I concentrated on the end of the jetty. Hunching over to get out of the piercing rain I dashed for our gate and into the safety of our houseboat. I dumped the groceries onto the kitchen floor and raced to the window to watch the action.
Rain fell from the sky in great sheets of pressurized water, blocking out the view of the opposite houseboat that was a mere five metres away. Our boat suddenly lurched to the left and I stumbled sideways, lost my balance and crashed head first into the leather lounge. A thunderous sound above made me wonder if the roof was going to lift off.
My mother dashed into the room, soaking wet and hugging a pillow to her chest, her wet face glowed with excitement.
“Where did that come from?” she said as she ran her hands through her dripping hair.
“It was sunny when we drove in.” A deafening noise above had us all staring at the ceiling.
“What’s that?”
Before I could answer Andy and Dad burst in from the rain.
“Quick, shut the windows.” Dad flung his wet bags onto the carpet.
I ran down the hall, into a bedroom and dived commando-style onto the double bed to reach the window. As my hand plunged into the pillow, cold water squished between my fingers and I realised we should've shut the window a while ago. I rolled off the wet blankets and made for the bathroom to shut its window too. The rumbling above interrupted the excitement and my dad flashed past the bathroom door.
I followed him into the driving rain and onto the small back deck in time to see a chair fly off our houseboat roof and splash into the water. Dad’s quick action surprised me as he snatched a paddle from our kayak and fished out the chair before it disappeared below the surface. I grabbed it off him and struggled to drag the sodden weight onto our boat.
The storm was in full swing with thunder rolling above us like a thousand head of cattle. Glass smashed somewhere in the distance and shouts had us looking across the marina. One of the houseboats had broken its moorings and the staff raced to launch a rubber speed boat to chase after it.
As they zoomed away, the storm abruptly stopped and the birds struck up a united screech as stillness settled over the marina. Gradually people emerged from their boats to assess the damage and the marina once again became a hive of activity.
A fat raindrop fell on my cheek and I looked up at the swirling black clouds. The threat of a storm had the marina in a whirlwind of activity. People raced in and out of boats, securing anything that could move, tightening ropes and closing windows.
“Hurry up, boys,” my mother yelled from the boot of the car. “It’s going to pour down.”
My brother raced past me lugging heavy grocery bags but his eyes glowed with excitement. Dad fussed about with the items on the roof racks as mum loaded me up with more bags. I spun on my heels and raced back down the planked jetty. The air suddenly came alive with rain bullets and fierce wind that pushed me along.
The surrounding house boats rose up and smashed into rubber sidings. Sounds of breaking glass and splintering boards echoed about the marina as I concentrated on the end of the jetty. Hunching over to get out of the piercing rain I dashed for our gate and into the safety of our houseboat. I dumped the groceries onto the kitchen floor and raced to the window to watch the action.
Rain fell from the sky in great sheets of pressurized water, blocking out the view of the opposite houseboat that was a mere five metres away. Our boat suddenly lurched to the left and I stumbled sideways, lost my balance and crashed head first into the leather lounge. A thunderous sound above made me wonder if the roof was going to lift off.
My mother dashed into the room, soaking wet and hugging a pillow to her chest, her wet face glowed with excitement.
“Where did that come from?” she said as she ran her hands through her dripping hair.
“It was sunny when we drove in.” A deafening noise above had us all staring at the ceiling.
“What’s that?”
Before I could answer Andy and Dad burst in from the rain.
“Quick, shut the windows.” Dad flung his wet bags onto the carpet.
I ran down the hall, into a bedroom and dived commando-style onto the double bed to reach the window. As my hand plunged into the pillow, cold water squished between my fingers and I realised we should've shut the window a while ago. I rolled off the wet blankets and made for the bathroom to shut its window too. The rumbling above interrupted the excitement and my dad flashed past the bathroom door.
I followed him into the driving rain and onto the small back deck in time to see a chair fly off our houseboat roof and splash into the water. Dad’s quick action surprised me as he snatched a paddle from our kayak and fished out the chair before it disappeared below the surface. I grabbed it off him and struggled to drag the sodden weight onto our boat.
The storm was in full swing with thunder rolling above us like a thousand head of cattle. Glass smashed somewhere in the distance and shouts had us looking across the marina. One of the houseboats had broken its moorings and the staff raced to launch a rubber speed boat to chase after it.
As they zoomed away, the storm abruptly stopped and the birds struck up a united screech as stillness settled over the marina. Gradually people emerged from their boats to assess the damage and the marina once again became a hive of activity.
|
One hour later, the sun was shining again, our gear was fully loaded, our safety talk was completed and we were cruising out of the marina and past the expensive houses and plush gardens of the Gold Coast seaway.
Andy and I stood on the top deck, leaning into the breeze as we spotted storm debris for our dad. There was nothing really to worry about, just the occasional log, a variety of plastic bottles and a soccer ball that I begged dad to get, but he wouldn’t. As we settled into our rhythm, Andy and I explored every inch of the boat. We found board games stored in one of the cupboards, rummaged through the hundred or so DVDs and unpacked our suitcases, or in my case, moved my clothes from the top bunk to my side of the cupboard. I sidled up beside Dad. “Can I steer?” He stepped aside and I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal wheel. I noted how slowly the boat reacted and hoped nothing got in my way. The throttle was half way towards full speed and the engines were a steady vibration beneath my feet. |
|
We
rounded the bend in the river and a vast lake stretched before me, dotted with
boats of all shapes and sizes. Houseboats were aplenty. Small speed boats
scooted about, some towing screaming kids on rubber tubes. Giant pelicans
cruised in to land on surrounding sandbanks.
After several hours my dad pulled the boat up to a horseshoe-shaped beach and dropped the anchor. The chain thundered into place and he cut the engine. I jumped off the front of the boat, splashing waist deep into the water and then climbed out and onto
the sandy beach. A wall of sand towered above me and I dug my toes in as I climbed up it.
By the time I reached the top I was panting heavily. I sat on a log and waited for Andy as I surveyed the scene below. Mum was reading a magazine in a deck chair atop our boat. A sailing boat carved through the water with its sails leaning at a dramatic angle as a speed boat created waves ahead of it. Andy finally joined me and we sat until our breathing returned to normal.
I stood, knees bent, looking down the steep incline. “Race you to the bottom.”
Andy, who never shied away from a challenge, got to his feet.
“Go,” I yelled.
As gravity dragged me downwards I leant backward to stop myself from face-planting in the sand. I was laughing hysterically as my arms and legs pumped like crazy and my feet plunged deep into the soft sand. Andy tripped and fell, but twisted his body, rolled onto his back and then returned to his feet in one swift movement. This had me laughing even more and my arms and legs lost rhythm and
spun in crazy momentum. Even if I wanted to stop I couldn’t and I was both exhausted and exhilarated when I splashed into the cool water at the bottom.
We climbed up and raced down the sand mountain a couple more times and I was relieved when Dad finally announced that our barbeque lunch was ready. After lunch Mum and I took the kayaks out for a paddle and we explored several small estuaries. We ducked under low lying branches and wove our kayaks amongst the mangroves’ roots. I spotted fish, crabs and a couple of stingrays that popped up from the sand as I cruised above them.
Afterwards, I helped Mum bake muffins and then we ate them while the chocolate chips were still hot and gooey. Later that afternoon dad pulled up the anchor and once again we motored up the river searching for an ideal spot to spend the night. Dad checked the map, looking for somewhere out of the main boat channel and sheltered from the breeze.
He pointed to a spot on the map. “Green Island.” Decision made.
It was obvious other house boat captains had the same idea as several boats of all shapes and sizes were tucked into the beaches along Green Island. Dad slowed the engine and after careful consideration chose a spot further away from everyone else. He nudged the boat in so tight to the beach that we could almost jump from the boat onto the sand. Once again the anchor thundered into place and we settled in for our first night aboard the Sunset Princess.
I sat on the top deck, fishing and drinking an icy cold soft drink as the sun set in a brilliant display of orange and pink.
It wasn’t until Dad fired up the barbeque that he noticed something was wrong. Cooking oil he tipped onto the hotplate oozed to one side.
After several hours my dad pulled the boat up to a horseshoe-shaped beach and dropped the anchor. The chain thundered into place and he cut the engine. I jumped off the front of the boat, splashing waist deep into the water and then climbed out and onto
the sandy beach. A wall of sand towered above me and I dug my toes in as I climbed up it.
By the time I reached the top I was panting heavily. I sat on a log and waited for Andy as I surveyed the scene below. Mum was reading a magazine in a deck chair atop our boat. A sailing boat carved through the water with its sails leaning at a dramatic angle as a speed boat created waves ahead of it. Andy finally joined me and we sat until our breathing returned to normal.
I stood, knees bent, looking down the steep incline. “Race you to the bottom.”
Andy, who never shied away from a challenge, got to his feet.
“Go,” I yelled.
As gravity dragged me downwards I leant backward to stop myself from face-planting in the sand. I was laughing hysterically as my arms and legs pumped like crazy and my feet plunged deep into the soft sand. Andy tripped and fell, but twisted his body, rolled onto his back and then returned to his feet in one swift movement. This had me laughing even more and my arms and legs lost rhythm and
spun in crazy momentum. Even if I wanted to stop I couldn’t and I was both exhausted and exhilarated when I splashed into the cool water at the bottom.
We climbed up and raced down the sand mountain a couple more times and I was relieved when Dad finally announced that our barbeque lunch was ready. After lunch Mum and I took the kayaks out for a paddle and we explored several small estuaries. We ducked under low lying branches and wove our kayaks amongst the mangroves’ roots. I spotted fish, crabs and a couple of stingrays that popped up from the sand as I cruised above them.
Afterwards, I helped Mum bake muffins and then we ate them while the chocolate chips were still hot and gooey. Later that afternoon dad pulled up the anchor and once again we motored up the river searching for an ideal spot to spend the night. Dad checked the map, looking for somewhere out of the main boat channel and sheltered from the breeze.
He pointed to a spot on the map. “Green Island.” Decision made.
It was obvious other house boat captains had the same idea as several boats of all shapes and sizes were tucked into the beaches along Green Island. Dad slowed the engine and after careful consideration chose a spot further away from everyone else. He nudged the boat in so tight to the beach that we could almost jump from the boat onto the sand. Once again the anchor thundered into place and we settled in for our first night aboard the Sunset Princess.
I sat on the top deck, fishing and drinking an icy cold soft drink as the sun set in a brilliant display of orange and pink.
It wasn’t until Dad fired up the barbeque that he noticed something was wrong. Cooking oil he tipped onto the hotplate oozed to one side.
|
The boat had begun to tilt.
I followed Dad to the railing. “Oh bugger.” The front of the boat was now sitting on dry sand. Mum joined us and started laughing, and with relief I laughed too. I’d thought we might be in trouble but Mum’s laughter reassured me we were okay. “Good one, Gary.” She thumped Dad in the shoulder. Dad raced downstairs, threw the anchor engine into reverse and the heavy chain chugged onto the boat. With the anchor back on board Dad started the engine and put the motor into reverse. |
But nothing happened.
He increased the power, pushing it to maximum. The boat bucked under the powerful engine but still didn’t move.
We were stuck.
With every passing minute the boat’s angle increased and it wasn’t long before the deck chairs began sliding across the top. Mum raced around securing as many things as possible as Dad pored over the boat charts analyzing where he went wrong.
Eventually he pushed his glasses up onto his head. “Tide doesn’t start to come in until 3 a.m. It looks like we’re stuck here.”
“Cool,” I said as I played my torch over the front deck. Thousands of blue soldier crabs scurried away from my light. “Can we jump down, Dad?”
“Sure. His shoulders sagged.
Andy joined me as I walked almost all the way around the boat. The back corner was the only part of the boat still in water. Blue soldier crabs scurried everywhere and we caught and played with several big ones before letting them go. I climbed back onboard and gathered our crab pot and bait.
I cut a large chunk off the frozen mullet that mum’d bought at the marina and pushed it in to the hole in the crab pot, securing it with string. Andy and I lugged the pot to the edge of the water and tossed it in. I tied it to the boat and then washed the stinky fish smell off my hands.
Mum called us in for dinner and we laughed at our situation as we devoured hot dogs followed by chocolate mud cake. The moon rose full and bright across the water and we played scrabble which my younger brother won as usual.
“So Einstein, what’s the plan?” Mum asked dad.
“Nothing now. I’ll set the alarm for 2.30 and we’ll move the boat then.”
“Make sure you wake me,” I said.
“Sure thing, mate.”
After we helped Mum clean the dishes I went to use the toilet, but the toilet water didn’t look right.
“Hey Dad, can you come here?”
Dad checked the toilet. “Darn! The pipe’s sucking up sand. We can’t use it until we’re back in the water again.”
“But I have to go,” Andy said.
“You’ll just have to go overboard.”
Andy leaned in a whispered. “But it’s a number two.”
“Oh.” Dad scratched his chin stubble. “Here, take a toilet roll and the spade and pretend like you’re camping. Jason’ll go with
you.”
“Great.” I rolled my eyes.
I rummaged through my gear until I found my head lamp, fitted it over my forehead and turned it on. The white light lit up everything ahead of me as we jumped overboard onto the sand.
We left the beach and pushed past wiry bushes and over gnarled paperback trees that bent in the same direction. Obviously they’d weathered many storms. The bushes around us were alive with movement and I imagined all sorts of creatures moving about.
Minutes later Andy declared that we’d gone far enough and played the torch over a sandy clearing. Blue crabs raced away and I heard sea gulls squawking somewhere in the distance.
“Hold the torch,” Andy said.
He began digging and as I turned by head, my headlight illuminated the white paper bark trees around the clearing. But beyond that there was nothing but blackness.
“Ok, that's deep enough. You can wait over there?”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. I walked to the tree line, found a log and sat down. I could hear waves crashing against the shore and I closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh salty air. When I opened my eyes my head light lit up something in the bush beside me and I gasped.
He increased the power, pushing it to maximum. The boat bucked under the powerful engine but still didn’t move.
We were stuck.
With every passing minute the boat’s angle increased and it wasn’t long before the deck chairs began sliding across the top. Mum raced around securing as many things as possible as Dad pored over the boat charts analyzing where he went wrong.
Eventually he pushed his glasses up onto his head. “Tide doesn’t start to come in until 3 a.m. It looks like we’re stuck here.”
“Cool,” I said as I played my torch over the front deck. Thousands of blue soldier crabs scurried away from my light. “Can we jump down, Dad?”
“Sure. His shoulders sagged.
Andy joined me as I walked almost all the way around the boat. The back corner was the only part of the boat still in water. Blue soldier crabs scurried everywhere and we caught and played with several big ones before letting them go. I climbed back onboard and gathered our crab pot and bait.
I cut a large chunk off the frozen mullet that mum’d bought at the marina and pushed it in to the hole in the crab pot, securing it with string. Andy and I lugged the pot to the edge of the water and tossed it in. I tied it to the boat and then washed the stinky fish smell off my hands.
Mum called us in for dinner and we laughed at our situation as we devoured hot dogs followed by chocolate mud cake. The moon rose full and bright across the water and we played scrabble which my younger brother won as usual.
“So Einstein, what’s the plan?” Mum asked dad.
“Nothing now. I’ll set the alarm for 2.30 and we’ll move the boat then.”
“Make sure you wake me,” I said.
“Sure thing, mate.”
After we helped Mum clean the dishes I went to use the toilet, but the toilet water didn’t look right.
“Hey Dad, can you come here?”
Dad checked the toilet. “Darn! The pipe’s sucking up sand. We can’t use it until we’re back in the water again.”
“But I have to go,” Andy said.
“You’ll just have to go overboard.”
Andy leaned in a whispered. “But it’s a number two.”
“Oh.” Dad scratched his chin stubble. “Here, take a toilet roll and the spade and pretend like you’re camping. Jason’ll go with
you.”
“Great.” I rolled my eyes.
I rummaged through my gear until I found my head lamp, fitted it over my forehead and turned it on. The white light lit up everything ahead of me as we jumped overboard onto the sand.
We left the beach and pushed past wiry bushes and over gnarled paperback trees that bent in the same direction. Obviously they’d weathered many storms. The bushes around us were alive with movement and I imagined all sorts of creatures moving about.
Minutes later Andy declared that we’d gone far enough and played the torch over a sandy clearing. Blue crabs raced away and I heard sea gulls squawking somewhere in the distance.
“Hold the torch,” Andy said.
He began digging and as I turned by head, my headlight illuminated the white paper bark trees around the clearing. But beyond that there was nothing but blackness.
“Ok, that's deep enough. You can wait over there?”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. I walked to the tree line, found a log and sat down. I could hear waves crashing against the shore and I closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh salty air. When I opened my eyes my head light lit up something in the bush beside me and I gasped.
|
A hundred dollar note lay on the sand right in front of me.
“Hey Andy. You won’t believe what I found.” "What?” “A hundred bucks.” Sand flicked off it as I snapped the note. “No way.” At the sound of shoveling I stood and moments later Andy was at my side. “Show me.” He held his hand out. “Holy cow, where was it?” I pointed at the insignificant spot and shrugged. “It was just there.” |
|
“You should give me half.”
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t have found it, if it wasn’t for me.”
“I wouldn’t have found it, if I didn’t sit here. So it had nothing to do with you.”
“Oh, come on. That’s not fair.”
I tucked the note into my pocket and strolled back to the boat. Andy whinged the whole way back.
Mum and Dad were just as surprised as we were about my lucky find and although Andy put up a tough argument, I was unrelenting. However I knew I’d buy him an ice-cream or two when we pulled into shore.
We settled in and watched a movie together and then Mum declared it was bed time.
“Don’t forget to wake me,” I reminded Dad.
I climbed into the top bunk, but the angle of the boat had me wedged up against the wall. I pulled the sheet up over my hips and with the soft sea breeze blowing across my bare chest I was soon fast asleep.
After what seemed like only twenty minutes Dad nudged me awake. “Hey, buddy.”
“What time is it?”
“Two thirty.”
I climbed down from my bunk and met Mum at the front of the boat. She played the torch below us, shining it through the water and highlighting small fish that swam about. A crab scurried across the sand and I suddenly remembered our crab pot.
“Wait, Dad.” I raced to the back of the boat, reached for the rope and pulled the pot in. Dad joined me and together we hoisted it onto the back deck.
“Hey! We got one.”
“It’s a big one too.”
The mud crab was about the size of a dinner plate and its front claws were as big as my hands. “There’s no way I’m sticking my hand in there.” I prayed he’d get the monster out for me.
“We’ll leave it there for now. Let’s move the boat first.”
Dad secured the pot on the deck and returned to the front. He raised the anchor and the noisy chain shattered the peaceful night. He then put the engine into reverse.
At first nothing happened. We were still stuck. He increased speed and the engines roared beneath us, the boat arced up and
suddenly we were moving again. We motored a short distance from the island before lowering the anchor again.
Safe at last we returned to our beds.
I crawled into my now level bunk and listened to the water lapping against the side of the boat. As I drifted off to sleep I wondered what excitement tomorrow would hold.
This story is inspired by a recent houseboat holiday on the Gold Coast seaway.
My husband managed to maroon the boat three nights in that week and I will always remember this trip as eventful yet relaxing. My oldest boy bought ice-creams for the whole family with the money he found.
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t have found it, if it wasn’t for me.”
“I wouldn’t have found it, if I didn’t sit here. So it had nothing to do with you.”
“Oh, come on. That’s not fair.”
I tucked the note into my pocket and strolled back to the boat. Andy whinged the whole way back.
Mum and Dad were just as surprised as we were about my lucky find and although Andy put up a tough argument, I was unrelenting. However I knew I’d buy him an ice-cream or two when we pulled into shore.
We settled in and watched a movie together and then Mum declared it was bed time.
“Don’t forget to wake me,” I reminded Dad.
I climbed into the top bunk, but the angle of the boat had me wedged up against the wall. I pulled the sheet up over my hips and with the soft sea breeze blowing across my bare chest I was soon fast asleep.
After what seemed like only twenty minutes Dad nudged me awake. “Hey, buddy.”
“What time is it?”
“Two thirty.”
I climbed down from my bunk and met Mum at the front of the boat. She played the torch below us, shining it through the water and highlighting small fish that swam about. A crab scurried across the sand and I suddenly remembered our crab pot.
“Wait, Dad.” I raced to the back of the boat, reached for the rope and pulled the pot in. Dad joined me and together we hoisted it onto the back deck.
“Hey! We got one.”
“It’s a big one too.”
The mud crab was about the size of a dinner plate and its front claws were as big as my hands. “There’s no way I’m sticking my hand in there.” I prayed he’d get the monster out for me.
“We’ll leave it there for now. Let’s move the boat first.”
Dad secured the pot on the deck and returned to the front. He raised the anchor and the noisy chain shattered the peaceful night. He then put the engine into reverse.
At first nothing happened. We were still stuck. He increased speed and the engines roared beneath us, the boat arced up and
suddenly we were moving again. We motored a short distance from the island before lowering the anchor again.
Safe at last we returned to our beds.
I crawled into my now level bunk and listened to the water lapping against the side of the boat. As I drifted off to sleep I wondered what excitement tomorrow would hold.
This story is inspired by a recent houseboat holiday on the Gold Coast seaway.
My husband managed to maroon the boat three nights in that week and I will always remember this trip as eventful yet relaxing. My oldest boy bought ice-creams for the whole family with the money he found.
I hope you enjoyed the 'Stranded Surprise'.
Want more FREE short stories? CLICK HERE.
My book - Lost in Kakadu is now available -
CLICK HERE for more information.