Ship wrecked

I woke up on the beach coughing. I was scrambling to collect my thoughts.

Where was I?

I couldn't remember anything but Carol and Thomas boarding the boat the night before.

I was laying in the entertainment room on the sofa watching the news on the largest screened television on the boat. I couldn't see them, but I heard them board, laughing and joking with my husband Greyson and the ship's hand Jean-Pierre.

I went up and greeted them and asked the usual trivial questions about their children and the general state of their business.

They owned a locally sourced bottled water company and were excited about acquiring a new natural spring and filtration system that they anticipated would triple their business. My head was hurting, probably from the five hours I'd spent earlier in the day reading a book through an online application on my tablet.

After greeting everyone, I'd excused myself and gone to lay in our master suite below deck. I put on some soundscapes, sort of nature's musical and I was fast asleep.

The sun was now blaring in my eyes. As I slowly opened them, I could feel a sharp and stabbing pain along my left side.

Placing both my hands there I could feel that beside a being soaked, I was bleeding.

Suddenly I was wide awake. I looked around and could see pieces of our beloved boat scattered along the shore. With one half of it seemingly somewhat still in tact pierced by a giant rock that was shaped like a spear.

I took off my shirt to examine my wound. Washing it rather aggressive while wincing from the pain, I tied it around me to close the cut and started screaming.

"HELLO! Greyson? CAN YOU HEAR ME HONEY? Carol? Tom? Jean?" I began to whimper, realizing I may have bigger problems than my trivial injury.

"GREYSON?" I could hear someone further down the beach. I ran.

There was more debris including our livingroom furniture and some fixtures from the boats interior and our refrigerator.

The sound seemed to be coming from there. I rushed to open it.

"Greyson" It flew open.

It was Carol. I embraced her, pulling her up and out of the small space she'd created for herself by removing the produce drawers.

We cried openly.

"Where is Tom and Greyson?"

"I'm not sure yet." I replied, trying to remain calm.

We walked the length of the beaches wreckage twice.

"Let's make an s.o.s. out of rocks". She agreed.

Just as we completed our elaborate rescue request that could be seen from the heavens, we saw a ship's sail on the horizon, approaching us like mirage. It was there and it was approaching quickly.

Without thought or words to eachother, we both started running towards the shore waving our arms wildly.

As they got closer we could see a very husky dark haired man steering and our guys next to him. Greyson, Thomas and Little Jean-Pierre.

They got into the life raft after anchoring and got us onto the fishing boat where the kind uncle like figure gave us hot tea and dry clothes.

It turned out, we had been capsized by a beautiful white whale and the three of them had been tied together for hours by the gaudy curtains from our boats patio.

The adventure was overwhelming by through it we became a family.