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A ghost on Ghost
We are tied to a state parks dock on Matia Island in the san Juans.
The rain had been threatening all day and finally the tapping on the
deck was evidence enough that the clouds had opened. The darkened
clouds had filtered the evening sun to a premature twilight. The breeze
chilled the air but did little to move the stillness. The water moved
into the little bay with a swirl. The tide, as always, was moving in a
never ending battle of push and pull.
We were cleaning up the dishes from a dinner of fresh caught fish.
The kids were playing quietly on the floor of the salon.
From above there came a noise. It was the unmistakable sound of
footsteps trodding on a wet teak deck. A moment later the hatch
would slide open and our remaining crew would have returned from
there wet inter island hike. Minutes pass but still the only sound was
the pitter patter of large raindrops on the deck. I step up into the
salon and peer out the windows to see why they would choose to stay
out in the rain unprotected? I am greeted with a darkening sky and
vacant decks. Investigating a little more, I find no-one on the dock or
near the shore. Confused I return to the warmth and dryness of below
decks. “It must have been the ships cat Ashes”, I think.
Sliding the hatch closed, I spy Ashes sleeping soundly on a pillow.
She is as dry and warm as can be. She could NOT have been outside.
I return to the galley to finish drying the dishes still puzzled by our
mysterious visitor.
Moments later another familiar sound breaks the rhythm of the rain.
The mid-cabin door latch moves slightly and the heavy teak door opens.
This is something that I have seen almost every morning for three
years. Usually one of the kids wake up sleepy in the morning and opens
the door slowly. So many “blankies”, “mouses”, or “ducks” in sleepy
arms cause everyday chores like opening a door to become slow and
methodical. Tonight, however, as the door swings into the galley, there
is no-one. There isn’t a young child standing in the opening trying to
sneak into the room unnoticed. I turn slowly and close the door. It
clicks, tightly closed. I test the latch and it too secures normally. A
familiar twinge brushes against the back of my neck. All souls aboard
are in view and accounted for. “Who could have opened the door “, I
wonder?
Cautiously I again start at the dishes. It may be a slight bit of fear
that causes me to turn up the galley oil lamp a bit .I am now alert and
listening to any sound that feels out of place. We have had a visitor
tonight. I am not sure who, but I am sure that who ever it was came
aboard and strolled around “Ghost”, possibly to get dry, or to warm
there soul. The remainder of the night I patiently wait for another
unexplained moment but nothing interrupts the rain or the night.