Agathea's Oceanic Odyssey

The wind howled in the rigging, and it creaked as the mast bent under the heavy weight of the storm. The Captain looked at his crew, their hands white on the wheel, their faces dark with fear and resignation. He had no choice; they were going to have to take shelter in that island over there.

There was a sudden thump, and he was thrown across the deck against the bulwark. His head struck hard against it, and he saw stars. A few moments later, he felt a hand shaking him gently. It was one of the men from his crew.

"Captain," said Mr. Smith, "we're taking in water."

The Captain started to sit up, but the feeling of nausea from his knock on the head overwhelmed him and he lay back down again. "How bad?" he asked.

"Bad enough," said Mr. Smith with a grim smile. "We'd be better off taking our chances on that island."

The Captain nodded painfully, then sat up and tried to stand up--and fell back down again as his knees buckled beneath him. "Mr. Smith," he said, "I'm afraid I can't help you get us to shore."

"It's okay," said Mr. Smith reassuringly, "I'll open up the rowboat and take us over myself."

At that moment another wave hit them broadside and they rolled over like a toy boat. The Captain held onto the rail for dear life while Mr. Smith tumbled overboard into the roiling sea below them. Then suddenly all was still and an eerie silence fell over everything, broken only by the lapping of waves against the hull of their ship as it lay keel-up on top of some rocks on shore--the only remaining sign that there had ever been a ship there at all.