Chapter 21

Far enough out that the shore of either side was invisible and the sky was a multitude of tiny lights, the milky way like a broad band of glittering diamonds lit from within ... golden, red, green colors unseen even from the shore of our tiny little summer residential village. My old brain knew that the outliers of lights were galaxies and giants, gas clouds and dust, but my young brain said... 'that is so beautiful'.

No moon tonight.

The water from the forefoot burbled and bubbled through the slight surface foggy mist as we arrowed straight from two miles west of Pentwater. If I tiptoed I could see the compass rose, my course was 222 degrees or South West by south. It was my trick at the wheel, Ten PM to Two AM, four hours. The knot meter has read a constant seven knots under a steady nine knot wind.

Grace stepped up behind me and whispered in my ear, "Look behind you."

I had no idea ... not an inkling ... it simply never occurred to me in any life that the Lakes produced such a phenomenon. I understood it from the Caribbean, plankton disturbed by the wake ... but here? Fresh water?

Stretching out behind the stern was a double blue line. Phosphorescence in Lake Michigan? The two lines were straight as an arrow and bright enough to illuminate the low foggy mist. I slipped on the spoke cup and Grace, pulling my arms around her for what warmth I could give her, leaned against me as we watched that blue line until the radar beeper sounded the near vessel alarm. It brought me to my duty. I gave her a squeeze ... a comforting brotherly hug. I love my sister ... and maybe...

"Grace? Go below and wake Chief Olsen, please. We're going to have fog by morning."

It was nearing the end of my watch and I could have put it off on the next watch stander but I was the one who noticed and that made it my responsibility.

'Responsibility? I've become my dad?' I thought, 'I'll surely have to do something stupid to make up for the lack of teenhood.'

But it wasn't that ... it was two lives living in me, one almost sixty and the other barely twenty-five. Both of them were cut off well before they were done. Neither of us ... them ... had had children ... it wasn't from lack of trying but things ... there are always things ... just like there are always 'they.' 'They say' is the beginning of more trouble and argument in the world than any other two words I can think of ... except maybe, 'which God?' followed by 'yours or mine?'

"David?"

"Sorry to have to wake you, chief," I apologized, "There's going to be dense fog by sunrise. and it'll probably burn off by noon."

He turned and walked up to the bow, I could see the reflection of his face in the green bow light ... he sniffed, decided his course of action and walked back to the helm. He looked at the Radar and said, "We can't make Chicago before the fog comes and we're still quite aways out."

"Grace? Will you take the wheel? 222 is your bearing."

I started pointing things out on the chart on the board next to the binnacle. "Chief, it's 132 miles to Chicago. We're about 15 miles out and 48 miles south. Holland is sailing backwards but Grand Haven is very possible. That'll put the wind on our quarter and we can figure 10 knots. We can anchor in the bight and keep up the horn. We should be fine. We could go to Muskegon but do you really want to anchor in Dow Water?"

Dow was just beginning to be sued for 'accidental chemical wastewater spills.' When the spill has been on the schedule for a week it is NOT accidental.

"Our other course would be to drop sails and motor straight to Chicago ... and I do suggest it as an alternative. But only as a last resort ... there are too many boats out even now that have no radar reflectors or enough metal to get a return. I would hate to run over some poor guy out for a morning's fishing."