Lost @ Sea

‘Do you want to come deep sea fishing this weekend, Carlos?’

When I heard my uncle ask that question, I couldn’t believe my ears. Of course, I wanted to go! I had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

‘I thought you’d never ask, Tío Eri, count me in!’ I replied, and as soon I got an ‘OK, you can go’ from my parents, I started to gather my gear. I packed my swimming trunks, my water shoes, my favorite cap with the Miami Marlins logo, and my lucky charm, a tooth my uncle gave me from a shark he caught on one of his fishing expeditions. My uncle goes out fishing with his friends almost every weekend. He used to go scuba diving too, but since he lost his left leg in an accident, he goes snorkeling instead. When I see his prosthesis, he looks like a true pirate of the Caribbean, with the fake leg and all!

My uncle has been my hero since I was very young. You see, I was born with a mild form of Cerebral Palsy, which means the left side of my body and my left arm are not very strong. But my uncle has shown me how I can do pretty much what I want, even with my CP, just as he does with one of his legs gone. For as long as I can remember, I would spend hours listening to my uncle’s exciting boating adventures. Little did I know, I was about to take part in the greatest fishing story I would ever hear him tell.

The morning of the trip I woke up at 5:00 am. I usually like to sleep in on weekends, but I was so excited that I was up and ready before sunrise. The tropical trade winds made the palm trees sway. When my uncle and his friends came for me, I almost forgot to say goodbye to my parents, but my mother made me come back in to hug me, give me her blessing (‘Dios te bendiga’) and tuck the sunscreen bottle in my duffle bag.

On the way to the marina, I felt like one of the guys. My uncle Tío Eri and his friends, Joel and Sebastián, talked about the tide and wind conditions and about how many marlins, barracudas, and sharks they would catch, for they were feeling lucky that day.

We arrived in the marina and walked to my uncle’s slip, carrying the fishing gear and a heavy cooler filled with sandwiches and drinks. The boat, ‘Popeye,’ looked cool with its blue stripes and its two black outboard engines.

Soon we left the coast behind and headed toward the deep waters of the Atlantic Ocean, where the big fish are. Indeed, just a few miles off the coast of San Juan is the Puerto Rican trench, one of the deepest points on the face of the Earth. We decided to go fishing there, so we pushed the engines and held on as the boat sliced through the navy blue water, creating a V-shaped wake behind us.

Once we reached the target zone, we reduced the speed to a trolling pace, and arranged the fishing rigs. By then the sun was shining bright and hot over our heads, so we set up the Bimini tops, put on some sunscreen, and drank cold lemonade. I went in the cabin to use the head (that’s seaman’s lingo for toilet), and felt seasick, so I quickly came back out. My uncle reminded me to breathe deeply, take in some pure saltwater air, and focus on the horizon, and I felt better right away.

It felt relaxing and quiet, the only sounds being those of the engines and a few seagulls flying by. That’s until a frenzied reeling sound signaled the first catch of the day! Joel’s fishing rod was the lucky one, and he started speaking excitedly as he struggled to reel in the catch.

‘It must be huge!’ said Sebastián, and he tried to help Joel put on the fishing belt.

‘Just hold on and tire it, I’ll circle around,’ yelled my uncle, who started to steer the boat in large circles around the fighting fish. We then positioned the boat close to the fish and turned off the engines.

For some reason the waves seemed higher around us once we stopped. The boat rocked so strongly I had to sit down. That’s when I noticed about ten inches of water on the floor of the boat cabin.

‘Tío Eri, is there supposed to be water in the cabin?’ I asked.

By this face I could tell something was wrong, very wrong. He ran over to the controls and yelled, ‘Cut the line, we’ve got to move, we’re making water!’

But before Joel and Sebastián could cut the fishing line, and before we could call on the radio for help, a huge wave capsized the boat and sent us overboard.

The water felt cold. I looked around and saw one, two, three heads pop up. Thank heavens we were all swimmers!

‘Everybody, put on a life jacket and stay by the boat,’ I heard my uncle say, and he threw a life vest in my direction. I grabbed it, strapped it on, and held on tightly with my right hand to the railing on the bow of the sinking boat. Joel and Sebastián did the same.

‘Carlos, it will be alright. If we stay with the boat, the Coast Guard will find us more easily. I’ll grab that life vest for myself.’ 

That’s the last I heard from my uncle. He swam toward the floating vest, but it seemed to be moving farther away. Then another large wave swept over us, and Tío Eri was nowhere to be seen.

‘This can’t be happening. Is this a nightmare?’ I thought. I saw our stuff floating away: the fishing rods, the first aid kit, my Marlins cap. We looked for the emergency flares but couldn’t find them. And the radio was under water.

How could anyone find us in the middle of the ocean? And what about my uncle? We hadn’t seen him in a while. I was praying that he reached the life vest, when I saw something floating in the distance. Tío Eri’s artificial leg. I thought the worst. After all, these waters are infested with sharks.

‘Hang in there,’ said Sebastián.

‘It’s not over ‘til it’s over,’ added Joel.

Hours must have passed, for the sun was going down, the water was getting colder, and I started feeling hunger pangs. My fingers and wrist hurt from holding on to the railing. Then I thought I heard something.

‘Do you hear what I hear?’ I asked.

‘Yes!’ they said in unison upon sighting the silhouette of an approaching vessel. We started yelling and waving until they saw us. It was a small boat, carrying a whole family. There was only room for one more person. They motioned for me to get on board, but I refused.

‘I’m fine, just look for my uncle. He’s by himself. Call the Coast Guard to find him! And don’t give up until he’s found!’ I told them.

‘Yes, go, we’ll take care of the kid,’ said Joel.

I heard the people in the boat make a ‘May Day’ emergency call on the radio. And they went off looking for my uncle.

Thoughts were racing in my head. What if Tío Eri was gone? I never told him how I admired him. And what if it had been my fault? I was the only one who used the head. Maybe I didn’t flush properly and left a valve open. The best day of my life had turned into the worst day ever. Yet I kept hoping, and praying, and hanging in there.

‘They’re here, the Coast Guard!’ said Joel. I saw what seemed like a pirate ship. Was I hallucinating?

‘We can wait longer. Tell them to keep searching for Tío Eri,’ I stuttered, as I was trembling from the cold.

‘Carlos, get in here, young man!’ It was my uncle’s voice! There he was, standing on one leg, on the bow of the Coast Guard boat, reaching down for me.

‘Tío Eri!’ I heard myself say. They took me aboard. I passed out.

I came back to the strong smell of alcohol on a cotton ball that my uncle was holding up to my nose.

‘Tío Eri, I’m so glad you are all right. You are my hero, you know? I’m sorry about your boat, about all this. It’s my fault, if it weren’t for my using the head…’ My uncle interrupted me.

‘Carlos, it was nobody’s fault. But you are right about something. If it weren’t for you… If it weren’t for your determination and courage, they might not have found me. You are MY hero!’

(An earlier version of this story has been published in children’s magazines.)