Storm

Storm The waves in the storm raged Pacific Ocean waves became deep ravines and tall mountains; in the binoculars, I saw an American hangar ship, its massive deck was glistering iron swept of all human activities, this was not a day for wars The bulk vessel was returning from Japan, where a cargo of scrap iron had been unloaded, so she was not so heavy in the water; a good thing when she ploughed deep down a watery valley, and the sea high above the ship, came crashing down, but up she came quivering like a wet dog As she climbed the tall blue mountain; at the crescent I saw the horizon before she dived into another ravine. The captain sat strapped in a high chair, keeping an eye on the gigantic waves, the ship had to face the cyclone straight on and not were starboard or portside, it that happened, it would spell disaster, a broadside wave would tip her over and there, no one would alive to tell a story in a bar, I made a thermos of coffee and meat sandwiches for him Walking up three flights of stairs was not easy, like falling and falling down at the time and not having anything to focus on, made me nauseous and nervous. The captain sat in his chair, smoking cigarettes and looking at the sea; is it not overwhelming, he said. Yes, it was nature in its fury that made us feel humble. Walking down backwards, couldn't risk falling and diving into a wall.