SAILING by GILLYLEE RATED FRPT

A new addition to the Tracy family.

As usual I'm in somebody's debt for streamlining this story.

I never liked sailing, but my Ed did. He was fond of sailing and so I went with him every time he went.

I didn't know the first thing about sailing, so no one ever let me do anything. I simply sat on the deck and became bored. And if the weather was hot and the sun shone, I became bored and sick with the heat. If I went below deck, I became bored and nauseated, because of the lack of fresh air. If the weather was bad, I became bored and seasick.

No, I didn't like sailing, but my Ed did. And I think it's important to follow your man wherever he goes. Follow your man, always, forever, until the end of time.

So, that's the reason I was aboard the 'Golden Mermaid' on that fateful day in October. Good sailing weather, my Ed said. For me it meant the sun was burning and the blustery wind made me squeamish. And bored, did I mention bored? Nothing to do than to stare at the sky and the sea and the waves.

This time there was something else that made me unhappy. I couldn't lay a finger on it, but there was something in the air that made the hair on my neck stand on end.

But we sailed, or rather my Ed sailed and I sat. The wind got stronger and some storm clouds began to form.

"We'd better head back to the harbour," my Ed said. I didn't reply. There was no need to do so. He was the expert.

The sun had disappeared now and the wind was getting stronger. I felt my breakfast churn inside my stomach.

The weather worsened quickly now, a full-fledged storm had overtaken us. My Ed came over to where I was sitting.

"Better safe than sorry, honey," he said and helped me into my life jacket. "I'll attach you with this safety line to the boat, that way I don't have to worry about you being washed overboard."

I rested my head on his hand for a moment. If my Ed said it was OK, then it was OK. But it wasn't OK.

An enormous wave rose in front of the boat and before we could do anything it crashed down on top of us. And suddenly that safety line wasn't so safe any more. For tons of water were pushing the boat... and me...deeper and deeper under the waves.

I struggled, I fought, but the weight of the water was still pushing me under. The pressure began hurting my chest and my ears. And I needed air. My lungs were filling with water. I was drowning. But now the boat was dragging me down, till finally the safety line snapped and slowly I rose to the surface.

When my head broke the water, the first things I did was cough and breathe. Wonderful oxygen. And then I looked around. No sign of the boat, no sign of my Ed. Only a piece of board floating on the waves a couple of feet away.

I swam to it and crawled on top of it. There I sat and I never saw my Ed or any other thing from the boat again.

Isn't the urge to live strong? It would have been so easy. Just to let myself slip into the sea and watch the board float out of reach.

I was far from the shipping lanes, far from inhabited land. No food, but after a few days I wasn't so hungry any more. No water, that was worse. Certainly in the daytime as the sun burned down. Not that the nights were any better. Never knew that tropical nights at sea could be so cold. Shivering, I lay on top of that board and always that thirst... the thirst was driving me insane. Yes, it would have been so easy, but I didn't do it.

So, why did I stay on that board? How long did I float around? I don't know. Everything all blurred together after a while. And then...something changed. I suddenly realized that I was no longer afloat. I was on solid ground! I don't know how long it had been since I'd run up on to this beach.

At last I summoned up the strength to make a couple of paces, and collapsed on the sand. The sun was burning.

I heard footsteps, footsteps that began to run. And then a velvety voice...

"My God, what happened to you?"

On opening my eyes, I saw a handsome man bending over me. Mid-thirties, dark-haired and his eyes... cobalt blue eyes stared into mine... and I forgot everything that had happened. The man kneeled down and stroked my head.

"Were you in that storm?" He asked. "Were you washed overboard? My God, that was almost a week ago!"

He slipped his arms around me and picked me up.

I turned my head so I could stare at those eyes. And so I could hear the steady thumping of his heart. Bliss, sheer bliss.

Sighing, I closed my eyes again. I knew I was safe.

'Cobalt eyes' was in peak condition. He'd run from that beach, bolted up a long staircase and still wasn't out of breath when he burst in to a room where a grey-haired man, startled, dropped the newspaper he had been reading.

"What the..."

"I found her on the beach," said 'cobalt eyes'. "I think she was in that storm."

The grey-haired man slammed his hand down on his desk. "Brains," he barked, "Sickbay. On the double." And 'grey-hair' followed us.

Sickbay was a room where a young man with glasses helped 'cobalt eyes' laying me down on a stretcher. Stuttering, he fired several questions to 'cobalt eyes', my... my 'cobalt eyes'.

The stuttering man with the glasses ran his hands along my body.

"N-n-othing br-br-broken, S-scott," he said, "no int-t-ternal bl-bleeding. Dehydrated. I'll g-g-give her s-some fl-fl-fluid."

The sting of a needle made me whimper. The man with the cobalt blue eyes, my man with the cobalt blue eyes, my... my Scott stroked my head.

"Shh, it's going to be OK," he said.

The older grey-haired man disappeared behind a door and soon after, I heard the noise of running water.

"D-don't make t-that water t-t-too cold, Mr Tracy," called the man with the glasses.

"Body temperature." Came the muffled answer.

"A b-bit lower than that, I-I t-think," answered 'glasses man'.

"FAB."

My Scott put his arms around me and carried me through the door 'grey-hair' had disappeared through. It was a bathroom.

'Grey-hair' knelt near the bath. He had rolled up a shirtsleeve and stuck an elbow in the water.

"T-that's a c-c-rude method-dology to t-test temp-perature, Mr Tracy," said 'glasses man'.

"Wait till you're in a hurry to bath a bunch of kids, Brains," 'grey-hair' said gruffly, "It works fine.

They lowered me into the water, which was cool and soothing to my skin. But as the water level rose I had trouble keeping my head above water. I panicked. I was back in the sea. I couldn't breathe. I struggled. The pressure of the water was crushing my chest. My lungs were filling with water. I was drowning.

My Scott stepped fully clothed into the bath, sat down and rested my head on his knees, "Shh, calm down, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. So, this is better, isn't? Hush now, I'm here."

'Grey-hair' knelt down and looked over the rim of the bath. "She swallowing, try to see if she can drink something, Scott."

Gratefully I swallowed a little water. Wonderful water. I closed my eyes and slept.

The next morning my Scott took me for a walk. And as we returned to the villa, I saw a friendly looking brown-eyed man standing on the terrace sipping coffee. He looked at me.

"That's some dog you got there, Scott," he called out.

My Scott and I walked up to him.

The friendly looking brown-eyed man went down on his haunches and let me sniff his hand, before he ran his hands over my body.

"There's a lot of German Shepherd in her," he said.

"I think I'll call her Michelle, Virg," said my Scott, putting his arm around me.

The friendly looking brown-eyed man scratched my ears.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he said.

"What?" asked my Scott.

"Da-had? Lo-ook what followed me hooooooooome? Can I keep her? Pu-le-ease?" The friendly looking brown-eyed man drawled in a high-pitched voice.

"Oh no, Virgil," said my Scott, "I'm not going to ask, I'm telling. Michelle is here to stay."

I wagged my tail. It was good to have a man again.