Few words describe helpless terror. Our ship sways violently from side to side, with everyone holding on for dear life. The wind whips up mighty waves, which crash onto the deck.
I hold onto Emelia, shouting, “Captain, knows what he’s doing.”
Terrified eyes look back and nod; however, anxiety is not for her safety, but everything dear to us. Our three children bury their faces in our clothes, hiding from this horrendous storm. I wrap Duke’s lead around my hand as the ship rolls, port to starboard, bow to stern.
Fork lightning tears the night sky. Our speed slows, every wave felt, and the brutal might of the Atlantic storm takes out fury on our ship. The Mull of Kintyre Lighthouse, our beacon of hope, lights our path to the mainland; however, I know this signals danger.
Our world is filled with a tearing, screeching sound of iron against rock and shudders to a halt. The Osprey’s stationary position is short-lived as a colossal wave lifts the ship back into the sea.
The engineer runs past us on his way to the Captain, and we witness his frantic update. The experienced Captain looks up into the sky, cursing the mighty storm for its brutal treatment of his vessel and turns to all of us, “Abandon ship. Everyone to the lifeboats.”