“87 Degrees” – Waking for the second time

The second time he woke he felt different. Somehow he was more aware of his surroundings, more connected, more awake. He threw back the sleeping bag which was draped over him and swung his legs onto the deck. It seemed like the first time for everything. Everything was new, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He recognised that he was in the saloon of a small sailing yacht. The small space was lit by a hurricane lamp which was suspended above the chart table opposite. It had been tethered so that it could not bang into the bulkheads.

He stood up, stepped across the saloon and steadied himself on the chart table. Above the table the number “87” was written on a grubby whiteboard. On the table lay a chart where someone had laid out a course and seemed to have been tracking it left to right. The chart contained very few features, just a few scattered rocks and islets some distance from the plotted course. He did not recognise the area depicted on the chart.

In the corner of the saloon stood a pair of waterproof trousers, their ankles fastened around rubber seaboots. He pulled on them on, slipped the braces over his shoulders settled the top of the waterproofs around his chest. He paused for a moment and then opened the hatch.

It was a moonless night. Overhead he could see nothing but stars. The sea and sky blended into velvet blackness. There was nobody in the cockpit and nobody visible on deck. Someone had lashed the wheel so that the boat was sailing a fixed course in the steady wind. He stepped around the pedestal of the steering position and looked down at the compass card which bobbed gently. He read that the boat was heading eastward. He was completely alone in the darkness and silence.

 (17th December 2016 – 310 words)