Quake
Copyright© 2025 by Gordon Johnson
Chapter 2
We hurried, or more correctly I shambled behind him to the lifebuoy and I lifted it off its mounting. This gained us access to a coiled throwing rope mounted in its centre. I noted that the throwing rope was attached to the life-ring, so that you held back the rope end when you tossed out the ring to the possibly drowning person.
In this instance, we had the reverse objective, and I told James, “We will put the big red ring over the bollard, and you can hold it steady while I run the rope round my body and ease myself down the rungs to the boat. It is scary for me, so you must hold the ring tight on the bollard, James. I need your help for this; you are important to my safety.”
He nodded somberly and concurred soulfully, “I think I can do that for you, Mister Paul. If it would help.”
I looked him in the eye and instructed, “Just Paul, James. Drop the mister. You and I are together on this, so we will use our first names to each other, as new friends. Agreed?”
“Agreed, Paul. It is good plan.”
He smiled at me in appreciation of being seen as a real partner and not simply as a small boy.
After a few minutes of anxious preparation, I carefully inched my way, rope-wrapped, down the face of the harbour wall and stepped delicately into the shifting boat, while hanging on to a rung until I was sure I was standing stable in the boat, feet wide apart. Feeling more secure, I now sat down to review what we had. I looked over the boat’s engine to see how it operated, and was shocked to find it needed a key to switch it on; probably an anti-theft measure. There was no key that I could find near the engine or anywhere, but I found that there was a short oar fixed on the inside of each side of the hull, just not obvious from above, which was why James had not noticed these oars.
This meant that I could work it as a rowing boat, provided I could find rowlocks for the oars to fit into. These proved to be also clipped to the inside of the hull at a higher level, and I shortly found I had a functioning rowing boat to use.
I removed the reassuring rope from my body and shouted to James to pull it up and keep it aside for use when I got back. Once he had done that, I was able to push off and start tentatively rowing the boat towards the half-sunken yacht where the women were waiting impatiently, whoever they were. I hoped they wouldn’t complain too much about the delay.
Rowing means you have your back to where you are going, so keeping the direction right was not an easy matter. I paused at intervals to have a quick look round and check my direction, but soon the women were calling to me to offer additional guidance on direction to reach them; simple instructions such as move left or move right. These improved my steering ability.
The prow of the dinghy at last bumped against their slowly moving vessel, and I shipped my oars and switched to grabbing hold of the swamped yacht’s deck edge. That rim was quite low in the water, only a couple of inches above the water surface. A pair of hands joined me in clutching the two boats together, and a delightful youngish female voice declared excitedly, “My God! Am I glad to see you! Thanks for coming to our aid.”
At least it didn’t sound like a complaint. I replied happily, “Glad to help. We were the only ones around able to do anything. Sorry it took so long; complications.”
“We? Who was that with you on shore?”
“That is James, a boy of about five or six who has just lost his mother in the earthquake. I explained that she had gone to heaven and she would want him to do what he could to help people. That way, he is focussed on helping others and not on grieving for his mother.”
“Oh, my God! The poor child! You are doing the right thing, mister ... uh, what is your name? I am Pat, short for Patricia.”
From the angle where I was sitting, I could not see her, but we could discuss maters quite effectively.
“Hi, Pat. I am Paul, not short for anything. Do you want to climb in, or do you have a suitcase or anything to collect?”
“Everything is below deck, lost under the water that swamped the yacht. Water is everywhere, so we can’t go down inside. We only have what we stand up in.”
“Oh, yes. Who is the other person on board?”
“Sylvia. She is my younger sister, but we look after each other. I have sent her to see if she can salvage anything above the water surface before we join you in that dinghy. Are you sure it is safe? It looks so tiny.”
“It was the only boat available to get to you, Pat, so it is that or swim: your choice! Thanks for guiding me for that last stretch to your damaged yacht.”
“Oh, it is not our yacht. It belongs to friends of our parents that are away looking after an elderly relative who is in hospital abroad, and the yacht was sitting here unused so they said we could make a short holiday on it and get the use of its facilities. It makes a great sunbathing place; well, up to now it was. Everything ashore looks flattened, and everything out here is drowned.”
“That is about right. Me and James are the only ones who seem to be alive, or at least alive and able to get out of the wreckage by ourselves. Only rescuers with heavy lifting gear will be able to do anything about the rest, and these rescuers are not going to be here for some time. You looked like you could be helped now, so that is why I am here.”
“Hi! Is this our hero?” said another pleasant voice, and an attractive face appeared in my line of sight above me, topping a pair of prominent breasts. I was impressed by the sight, but reverted to good manners despite my inner thoughts.
“Hi, Sylvia. I am Paul. I borrowed this high-class transport to get you girls to shore. Are you ready to go? Anything we have to take with us?”
“Nothing that I could get to except the sun cream, so just as we are.” She gestured to the small sun tan bottle that she had stuck in the elastic of her bikini bottoms. She stopped to take a longer look at me, appraisingly. “Oh, you lovely man, but injured. How brave of you to charge out to rescue us! Oh my goodness! Where do you find them, Pat? But you poor man; you have scrapes and bruises everywhere, how terrible; your hair is covered in dust or something, and your clothes look ruined.”
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