The Unforgiving Sea
My very first memory ever, was of the sea. At the time, it was all I ever knew. Nearly my entire childhood and most of my adolescence was spent on my grandfather's sailboat, just sailing around the world with him. He taught me everything he knew, and everything I know. A boat enthusiast, a former Navy Seal, a retired U.S. Navy RDML (Rear admiral lower half}, and he even did a stint as a captain of a Bearing Sea fishing boat, he was obsessed with boats and just about any seagoing vessel.
After my mom and dad passed away in a car accident a couple of years after I was born my grandmother soon followed with a grieving heart at the loss of her only son. It was just me and my grandpa left. With a heavy heart he sold his possessions and bought a single masted sailboat, and we've been sailing all over ever since.
He taught me everything I know about seafaring which honestly, at the time, seemed like a chore, but I learned regardless. In fact, according to the old man, I learned it all pretty quickly even though it all seemed somewhat boring. But I guess when there is nothing else to do except keeping the boat clean from all the bird shit and algae, learning how to navigate by constellations, how to tie knots and rig sails, was the lesser evil.
I still had to clean the bird shit and algae after.
It wasn't until I was seven years old when I figured out a way to at least eliminate the bird shit problem… by eliminating the birds themselves.
My grandpa gave me a Glock 43 and I fell in love immediately. From knowledge gained through his extensive and exemplary military career he taught me weapon safety and how to aim and especially how to clean and maintain it.
Some may argue, why in the world would anybody give a child a gun? Not to mention how to use one. Well, the simple answer is that anything can happen at sea. Sure, the local governments have laws depending on where exactly in the world we might find ourselves, but laws can only be enforced if the law enforcERs are present, and just in case anyone didn't get the memo, the world's ocean is vast and covers about 70 percent of the Earth's surface. With that being said, it is extremely difficult, impossible even, for law enforcement to have a presence everywhere. The best they can do is have satellite coverage, but even with that, if something bad were to actually happen, the law enforcers will not make it in time.
Like what happened to me and gramps while sailing through the red sea… but that's a story for another time.
None of that has anything to do with my love for firearms though. It wasn't until an entire year after receiving the pistol and countless and weapon safety lessons and snapping-in drills or firearm usage drills that I was finally given live ammo.
And became the scourge of all things' aviary. I really hate seabirds, and so did the old man.
It's strange how fast people can learn things once they become interested in it. If someone is not interested in something, it could take forever for them to learn it and they still probably won't ever learn it, but if they are interested, they will master it in the blink of an eye. In summary… shooting at flying moving objects while on a rocking, moving platform is the most difficult thing I had done at that time in my life, but because it was the most interesting thing in the world to me, I mastered it no time.
In fact, I got so good at it that Gramps called me Crack-shot Kai.
At the same time, I started weapon safety practice, he also started training me in close quarters combat or CQC as was taught to him while he was in the Seals team. We obviously didn't have room for any exorcise equipment, so gramps had to improvise. He would have me doing push-ups and sit-ups out on the forward main deck and pull-ups on the boom of the mast no matter the weather. If it was blazing hot or freezing cold didn't matter, I still had to do them, but I didn't mind. Only the cardio workout was weather-dependent. With no room for running laps or a treadmill the only real option was swimming for distance and/or speed or freediving.
I always prayed for good weather because swimming came very easy to me. Bad weather meant jumping rope and running in place for an hour at least or repeatedly climbing up to the top of the mast which wasn't too bad… after it was over and I had some time to reflect, but during the exorcises, I hated it. It was very… monotonous to say the least.
But swimming and freediving along with watching anime and reading web novels during my free time were my favorite pastimes. Even with all of my studies, as long as we had the right wind, there was plenty of free time... so I did plenty of these activities.
That and avenging every person who has ever been pooped on by those thrice be damned seagulls.
Navigating with constellations and with advanced technology, sail rigging, sonar, and actually driving the boat itself were also learned and then later on mastered during these mostly wonderful days sailing the vast blue ocean.
But like all good things, it eventually came to an end.
…
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Kyle keeps calling himself. It's my own fault for getting into this terrible situation.
At 17 years old, Kyle had lost the only family he ever knew. He was devasted for obvious reasons. And in his grief blindly headed a course for the nearest American seaport which would be somewhere in Texas. Everything was going fine until this freak storm quite literally came out of the blue. It was sunny with clear skies at first before the wind started to pick up and thick dark clouds started forming.
With a tremble in his voice, Kai called out to his grandfather, as if expecting a response that would never come. The cabin door slammed shut in the gale, echoing through the corridors like a mournful ghost. Rain lashed the deck, stinging his skin like a thousand tiny needles. The waves grew taller, the boat rising and falling with a nauseating rhythm that seemed to sync with his racing pulse. He had to act quickly.
Kai rushed to lower the mainsail, the fabric flapping wildly like the wings of a caged bird. His eyes darted to the instruments, the needles dancing in the red as the wind picked up. The storm was growing stronger, the horizon swallowed by the dark maw of the tempest. The rain grew colder, the drops feeling like ice against his cheeks. His grandfather had taught him well, but could the lessons of a lifetime be enough to conquer the fury that now surrounded him?
The boat lurched violently, a rogue wave crashing over the bow. The saltwater stung Kai's eyes, mixing with the tears that threatened to fall. He braced himself, each muscle taut with determination. As he worked to secure the lines and prepare the boat for the worst, he felt a strange calmness wash over him. It was as if his grandfather's spirit was there, guiding him through the tumult. He took a deep breath, tasting the brine, and whispered a silent promise to the man below. "I'll get us through this, Grandpa. I'll make it to port." The storm raged on, but Kai stood firm, a solitary sentinel at the helm, his courage bolstered by the legacy that now surged through his veins.
The wind grew to a shriek, the sails snapping taut as the storm tightened its grip. The boat heeled sharply to the side, sending Kai stumbling. He grabbed the lifeline, his eyes never leaving the horizon. The waves grew monstrous, towering over the boat like a mountain range of liquid fury. Each peak they crested brought a new rush of adrenaline, a visceral reminder that nature's power was not to be underestimated. The rain pummeled him, soaking his clothes to his skin, but he remained steadfast, his focus unwavering.
In the chaos, something strange began to happen. The wind started to speak to him, whispering secrets of the sea that only a mariner's soul could understand. Kai's heart pounded in his chest as he leaned into the gale, listening, learning. He adjusted the sails, turning the boat into the storm's fury. The "Sea Serenity" responded like a well-trained steed, slicing through the waves with a newfound grace that seemed almost supernatural. He felt his grandfather's presence more strongly than ever before, a guiding hand that steadied his own.
The storm's intensity grew, lightning forked across the sky, briefly illuminating the terrifying beauty of the tempest. The thunder that followed was a deafening roar that seemed to shake the very core of the earth. Kai's eyes searched the horizon, desperate for any sign of land. The instruments had gone haywire, the lights flickering erratically. He was flying blind, his trust in his instincts and the whispers of the wind his only navigation. The storm was a living creature, one that seemed to sense his fear and feed upon it, growing stronger with every passing moment. But Kai would not give in.
The young man's teeth were clenched, his eyes narrowed as the boat was tossed about. His heart was a drum in his chest, setting a tempo that matched the frenetic dance of the sea. The saltwater stung his eyes, but he blinked it away, focusing on the task at hand. The storm was a test, a final exam from the sea itself, and he was determined to pass. The rain pelted him, each droplet a challenge that he met with grit. He knew that somewhere beyond the wall of water, beyond the fury of the tempest, lay the safety of the port, a beacon of hope that grew brighter in his mind with every passing second. He whispered to the sea, to his grandfather, and to himself, "I'm almost there."
Giant swells are threatening to capsize Old Betsy, and it looks to be a certainty that they will as he miles away from ANY port. The pouring rain and howling wind is causing him to have nearly zero visibility. Not to mention the massive shifting mountains of water blocking his view. He believes he is still heading due north towards the nearest port but isn't 100 percent positive as the compass is just spinning in circles and the GPS navigation system is also out of sorts for some reason.
To add insult to injury, sailboat pilots mainly rely on its sails for mobility, and generally don't carry very strong engines
Just a little bit more Kyle thinks trying to encourage himself.
Sadly, though he never makes it. Just as soon as he finished this thought another wave follows after coming from the aft direction of his vessel. Thousands upon thousands, possibly millions of gallons of water come crashing down on the top of his sea vessel leaving only debris in its wake while Kyle Storms, the last of his line perishes in the unforgiving sea.