Caught in a hurricane

We heard that our ferry was going to be kind of rough going over to Spanish Sahara from Las Palmas in the Canary Islands. I had already forgotten about how bad of an idea it is to get drunk and then go out on the ocean. I should have learned my lesson on the English Channel. I must be a slow learner. We figured that the ferry ride would be six to eight hours and that we could stay drunk enough that we would make it to shore before we had a hangover so we hit the bars and pounded down the cheap Spanish rum and wine and beer for a few hours before we left. We all got really sloppy drunk. Then we boarded the wooden ship that looked like it was left over from one of the voyages of Christopher Columbus.

We were still in party mode as we pulled out of the harbor just after sundown. We watched the lights of Las Palmas recede and we headed out to the open ocean. It was already blowing pretty hard. The waves were building as we headed south west to the coast of Africa. Within a couple of hours we were in thirty foot seas and building. The old wooden boat was creaking like it was four hundred years old and had arthritis or something like that. We were getting thrown and tossed all over the boat. We all started getting very seasick. Even the crew was hanging over the rails puking. Then it got even windier and the crew decided that it was too dangerous for us to be on deck so they locked us in the main cabin. There was only a single marine head in the room and there were thirty sick puking drunks getting seasick all over the floors and everywhere. The putrid odors of all the puke and seawater swirling around on the floors just made us all that much sicker and it was a vicious circle getting worse by the minute. Our only salvation was that we would land in a couple of hours.

Then the first bad news hit. We could not land because the waves were too big at around forty plus feet for the small wooden craft to unload us when we got to the other side. We anchored offshore and waited out the hurricane. The anchor could not hold us in position and the crew had to work round the clock trying to keep us from rolling over and getting crushed by one of the mountains of water around us.

The first day we were sick and hungover. None of us could eat or drink much of anything without it coming right back up. We were bruised, battered and most of us were bleeding from the thrashing we were taking from the huge waves tossing the little boat around. When we looked out the portholes all we saw were mountains of water towering over the top of the boat. We were scared shitless by now. We thought for sure we were going to go down in the storm. A lot of us wanted to go down in the storm to end our misery. I can not possibly describe how bad it got. Then on the second day out there getting pounded the crew told us they were out of food and water so we had nothing to eat or drink and no idea how long it might be before we could land. The storm did not seem to be letting up at all.

On the third morning with us locked in the cabin with no food or water we got together and decided to complain to the captain of the ship and demand that we get some water at the least. The captain came into the room and everybody started yelling at him. We had to yell to be heard over the howling wind and creaking boat noises but we also wanted to yell at him and demanded some relief or at least some water to drink. The captain started to get nervous with us rebelling and all of a sudden he arrested me and had a couple of crew members handcuff me and took me to his quarters. There he told me I was under arrest for mutiny on the high seas which is a capital case and he tried to scare me into backing down.

I got angry at that point. If I wasn't cuffed to the chair I would have attacked him for sure. I told him that I was happy to be arrested because my father was an international maritime attorney and the boat was in violation of our human rights. The captain didn't like hearing that. The fact that it was pure bullshit went right past him. At that point we started to negotiate a solution to the problem. The wind was slowly just starting to ease down a bit but the waves were still way too large for us to land and we did not have enough fuel to go back to the Canary Islands with such a strong headwind. The Captain and crew were in just as much trouble as us passengers were. This was a real life and death situation and we shouldn't be sitting here bantering about trivialities like mutiny and international human rights. I just wanted to survive this experience. I asked him if he had sent out a mayday and he told us he had not. I suggested that he do it immediately before this wooden box turned into our shared coffin. He calmed down and agreed to release me and send out a distress signal. He also agreed to give us some limited water but the food really was gone. I was led back to the cabin and we all talked about our dire situation as we decided how to ration our water.

To our surprise the captain came into the cabin a short time later and told us that the Spanish navy had responded to the distress signal but that it would take them over 24 hours to get to us. We rejoiced to finally hear some good news. Some of us were sick now from dehydration. We all had severe headaches from too much alcohol combined with not enough water and no food at all. A few could no longer stand up and we were all still vomiting up what little was in our bellies. The smell was so bad and the slushy slurry of human wastes and vomit was still swirling around our feet splash all over us. We banded together and tried to help each other out as much as we could. We kind of split up into those needing comfort and those offering comfort. We also tried to clean up some of the mess and tried to organize a way to prevent more mess in the future.

The next afternoon we were released from the cabin for the first fresh air in three days. The wind was still strong and the waves were down to around 25 feet now. A fleet of ships was approaching us and we cheered them on. Two Amphibious ducks approached our boat to rescue us while the larger navy ships stayed back. The crew threw a cargo net over the side of the ship and we had to crawl over the rail and hang off the cargo net while we timed a jump to land in the ducks. If you timed it wrong the fall was going to break legs and things like that. We each took turns throwing our possessions into the ducks and then climbing over and jumping onto the hard steel floor of the ducks. We all made it without any broken bones. We just got even more bruises on our already deeply bruised bodies. We had a few bloody lips and noses but we were lucky nothing worse happened. The navy passed some provisions over to the crew so that they could survive as they waited out the storm. Then we headed toward the sandy shore of Africa.

The ducks surfed us into the beach with waves crashing over the back of the boats soaking us but also washing off some of the stink from our cramped boat experience. I though of the landings at Normandy and D day as we came into the beach. The ducks rolled right up to the beach and as the big waves pushed us the tracks caught a hold and we drove up on the beach. The front of the duck opened up and we all got out and kissed the sandy beach and profusely thanked the Spanish Navy for rescuing us. Then we were all taken to jail.

We were put into a holding cell and given water and then later some food. The Military had to process us one by one by checking our passports and all that good stuff. It took them all day to process our small group of about 25 people. We did not mind. Most of us took naps while we waited our turns.

When we were all finished with the officials we needed to find a way to get up to Morocco or in my case down to Senegal but first we needed to eat and sleep. Some Moroccans killed a camel and made us some camel stew for dinner. They taught us how to eat in the desert by chewing without bringing your teeth all the way together. If you just crunched down to chew the sand in the food would quickly bust your teeth up and that would be it for your teeth. We were famished and ate the tasty meal with gusto. I am not sure I chewed at all, I think I just inhaled it. Then to our surprise they pulled out pipes and we smoked some hash and Kif.

I had a surfboard with me and I was tired of lugging it around so after eating I broke off the skaggs and surfed down the dunes until the bottom of the board was totally shredded. We had a blast playing around. We were a bit over exuberant with our celebrations because we were just happy to be alive again.

The Moroccans built a big bonfire as the sun was going down and we all gathered around it and smoked and drank. Yes we were drinking alcohol again already. Humans have such short memories don't we. We slept under the stars and one of our group gave us a tour of where all the constellations were. Out in the dry air of the desert the stars are so numerous and bright we had no problems seeing. It was a great night. We cuddled up for warmth as it gets cold at night out in the desert because there is no moisture in the air to hold the heat in.

In the morning our Moroccans had more food ready for us and coffee too. We were sitting around eating and waking when somebody pointed up toward the sky and said what the hell is that. We all looked up and there was a huge cloud coming in our direction. It was flashing pink and then black, pink, black...What the hell. We were pretty stoned since we were wake and baking with the Moroccans again. It finally came close enough for us to identify it. It was a huge flock of flamingos migrating. They were flapping their wings in unison and it made the flock blink pink and black. We tripped on it as it passed over us and they did a circle over our heads checking us out as close as we were checking them out.

The Moroccans were truck drivers and they offered our group a ride up to Marrakesh and the group took them up on it. I found a truck heading South in the direction of Senegal and I took that choice. We all said good bye and left in separate directions.