Location: The Atlantic Ocean
There was something sinister about the sea that morning. The salt air rushed into her nostrils. She stood before them with might and grandeur. The halo of sunlight illuminated her silhouette and the sleek black sunglasses made her look like something between Darth Vader and Popeye the sailor man. The water ebbed from the deck, flooding out through the fair leads, flushing a the fresh faces of the land-lubbing crew. They were in for it. As the previous wave subsided, a new one whipped over the caprail, crashing down on deck and drenching a pair of young men as it came. The fury of the sea filled every heart with fear, but the scared sailors had to stand tall. With a stentorian bellow, she deftly dealt out each person’s duties. A feeble scurry to the nearest pinrail sufficed for most, though others were not as lucky. As they stood watch before the barreling basin of blue, something was spotted just before the bow. One man called out in horror, “A boy! There’s a boy in the water!”. Every young man’s stomach clenched as panic took hold of him. How could this happen? They looked about frantically as they sought to identify the sorry sailor who had been swallowed by the sea. Soon, the davits were ready to deploy the dinghy, the dread of a drowned friend stirring in the back of each hooded head. As the lookout turned to face the ten team mates who trusted his tragic tellings, he realized his wrongdoing and rushed to right it. As he hobbled over the heaving deck, he hollered, “No, a BUOY! A BUOY! Not a BOY!”
Thank you British pronunciation.
Fortunately, parents and readers of the Argo blog, nobody has gone overboard (except in setting up for bad jokes hehe). Have no fear, the only real hard ship we face is the one beneath our feet (only when we’re looking down though). The story above may seem to have come out of the blue, but in reality it’s just been smooth sailing.