Rude Awakening

For the four of us, the experience we are about to describe has set this passage apart from all others. The event that took place was one that had been joked about for two and a half years. When it actually happened, we could not stop talking about it. We relived it many times through story-telling in just the day after. Since we all had a different experience of the event, we each wrote our versions. I'll go first.

Porter: I was dreaming that I was chatting with someone. I remember my conversation being interrupted by something whacking my chest and a funny noise. I looked down and realized I was looking down at my feet in bed and something was moving in the dim light of early morning. Mama, keeping her cool under attack, was yelling,"Aaauugh, Gaaauuugh" on the bunk beneath me. I joined right in. Something was alive in my bed. Something had invaded my sanctuary; the place where nothing went wrong. Still groggy from having my sleep interrupted, I struggled to catch, or drive away whatever it was.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's just a fish," said Daddy, coming into the cabin.

"I don't care," I yelped, whatever did it matter what it was? It was jumping around under my covers! I struggled to disentangle myself from them underneath a low ceiling. The flying fish was not helping. Finally I got in a position to do something, and still yelping, pushed the covers over the fish and held it down.

"I can't see it, where is it?" I heard from the door of the cabin. The rapidly disappearing sleep haze must have messed with my judgment, because I lifted up the covers to let Daddy at the fish. It went berserk again. The tail nicked my nose, sending me careening backwards, walloping my head on the ceiling. Out of pure chance, my leg happened to hold the fish down against the lee cloth.

"Let me out, let me out," I said, or rather screeched, desperately wanting to be on the other side of the globe from the fish.

"Just give me a second," said Daddy who then seized the fish, whisking it away and overboard. I collapsed. I let my heart rate settle to about double its usual pace before moving an inch. Mama motivated to get up and vacuum up the scales which the fish had left behind. I just lay there. Eventually, I got out my kindle and read the one thing that would keep my attention completely away from fish landing in my bed: Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew. Eventually, I was cracking up. It was too ridiculous not to find it funny. For days, one of us has randomly started laughing at the thought of waking up to a flying fish in bed.

Molly: Nestled into the lower bunk, I think I was sleeping soundly when I awoke to the distinct thudding sound of a flying fish landing in the cockpit. A moment later, I realized that the flopping fish was actually in our cabin. Aaaaaaaaccccckkkkkk! Although it seemed to be on Porter's bed, the upper bunk, I was certain it would flip down onto me. In my sleepy haze, I shrieked with the intention of attracting Christopher to the cabin to solve the problem. I will let Christopher take over from there.

Christopher: [When telling this story out loud, Daddy would usually dissolve into laughter at the beginning of the last paragraph.] The screaming started immediately after the wet thump of the flying fish bouncing from the cockpit onward through the starboard cabin portal. Porter's angelic slumber was pitted against the frantic thrashing of a flying fish striving to fly through his dreams to the waters beyond. Maternal instinct brought online a second voice from the lower bunk to harmonize in the horror of a fishy wake up in the pre-dawn hours.

"Porter, it is just a flying fish."

"Ah...ah..."

"Porter... it is just a flying fish."

"Ah.. Ah...ah..."

"Porter, it is just a flying fish."

"Ah.." And then looking straight at me, Porter said "I DON'T CARE!" as shorthand to say that a frenetic slimy flying fish in his bed to start the day was not okay and not something he wanted to calm down about. Fair enough I thought, not really the best way to start one's day.

JackRabbit: Me? I slept through the whole thing.

Ed. Note: Flying Fish notwithstanding, we continue to enjoy this passage. As of 1pm (GMT-3) on Tuesday, we are 860 miles from St. Croix. Our current position is 19°44'N 49°36'W. All is well.