Personal Narrative: Beach Water

The scent of saltwater lingered in the air, and the turquoise waters with the sun sparkling on the surface caught my eye. Beyond the sandy-pink beach small sailboats cut effortlessly through the waves as the gusty wind carried them. Our car gently coasted down the left side of the road through the rolling hills. Every once in awhile I would attain another peak at the precious blue Atlantic Ocean. My legs were relieved we had stopped, so they could stretch after the many hours of sitting.

We came to a stop at a pier, and on both sides boats of all kinds rocked back and forth. I could not help but stare up at the tall sails. I stood gaping as my family scaled the ladder to a monstrous sailboat. I was quick to follow behind. My cousin, Roy,

There was not a cloud in sight as far as I could see, and the hot sun beamed down, so the occasional mist of sea water was refreshing. My two cousins, my sister, and I sat at the front of the boat, and we would wander back and forth. We were catching up on the years we missed with the great distance being the only obstacle. A few hours went by, and dark clouds crept ominously over the horizon towards us. The gloomy clouds did not phase me, and we kept to our childish games. In an instant the wind picked up causing larger waves to form. We were far from the Bermuda shore already, but instead Roy kept sailing farther out into the angry sea. The wind picked up from the west and drove the boat faster and faster. We rocked back and forth, and we tried to enjoy our precious moments together, for this trip would not last as long as we hoped. The weather was deteriorating by the minute, and I could see the concern in my parents’ eyes. This sudden change of weather certainly did not phase Roy as he crashed through each wave

My mind jumped to pirates. This was the perfect setup for something of that sorts to happen. We were in the Bermuda Triangle after all. Maybe that was how the boats and ships went missing. I looked around, but I did not find any monsters or pirates. The fear in my eyes must have been noticeable because my mom was coming towards me with open arms, but before she could reach me, the sail violently swung past to the other side of the boat. It missed us by a few inches. We finally saw that my cousins had climbed to the other side of the sail. My mom and I quickly scurried to the other side as Roy screams at us, "tack, tack, tack!" In our confusion we tried to follow in the actions of my cousins, but it was too late, so when the next wave hit we both slipped and almost slid off the sailboat. Roy seemed to have no regard for our impending jeopardy, and he continued to yell at us. Our lack of knowledge was only hindering us. Once back on our feet, we took cover in the bunkroom because the storm had become too severe. Through the porthole the murky green water bashed against the side of the boat, and the grey sky swirled in every direction. The storm persisted, and the boat continued crashing through the waves like a freight train through snowdrifts. Lightning struck all around us with each bolts’ reflection sparkling on the churning sea, and the sharp clap of thunder