FOG

A true story

The weather report from Nantucket promised ‘early morning patches of fog.’  My husband and I weighed anchor from Nantucket harbor and motored our sailboat in rough seas with no wind. By three in the afternoon we we were still in the ‘patch of fog’ navigating by dead reckoning. Electronic navigation equipment was just starting to come on the market, but we did not even have a ship-to-shore radio aboard.

Eight hours of motoring in an area of rocks and shoals in fog thick enough to barely see the bow, made us feel like we were the only people left in the world. In the distance we heard the tingling of a bell. Following the sound we finally located a buoy. I could almost touch it before I could read the number. A quick search of the chart pinpointed our location. We were near Block Island, but on the wrong side.

Another hour of cautious groping and we found the jetty that channeled us into the Great Salt Pond of Block Island. It was a relief to be able to drop the hook and settle down. A glass of wine helped set the anchor.

Ellynore Seybold

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Prompt; smoke, fog or haze

Traveling the dusty back roads of the Olympic mountain range in Washington, I saw a “vee” formation of Canadian geese flying southward. This was unseasonal for a hot summer day. I drove over a ridge and saw a plume of black smoke emanating from the wooded valley below. With the high winds today, I could understand why the birds were racing away from the plume. I stopped my car in order to get a better look. It worried me that the direction of my single-lane road would take me directly towards trouble. Suddenly, I saw orange flames erupt and leap skywards. I best get the heck out of here! I turned my car around and raced for safety. The blare of a siren screamed from around the curve ahead, and a fire truck sped towards me, almost running me off the road. Once passed, I felt relief and was heartened to know that the firemen were on their way to save this bucolic preserve of natural beauty.

Tom Rutherford