Lifesaving Lessons Read Online Free PDF

“I’ll wait for the tide to come in and see if she floats.”
    â€œIt went ashore on a nine-point-six tide, and this afternoon is just a nine-footer,” Howard said softly, almost apologetically, as if he were embarrassed to have to tell me what the tide was doing. “Friday morning, eight-thirty. We’ll have eleven feet. The moon, well, you know.” He diverted his eyes to the toes of his boots as his voice trailed off. The fact that he had a graying, kinked ponytail protruding from beneath his wool watch cap bothered me. I don’t know why.
    â€œI hope it doesn’t take until Friday. I’m worried sick that this rickety, old float will break apart and leave the Dices with a lawn ornament,” I said, nearly praying and not mentioning my financial investment that would be a total loss if the raft collapsed or was beaten to pieces in the surf should a storm come along. I also had in mind the monumental sweat equity of the other 75 percent of Omega Four when I decided to remain on the beach and keep a fretful watch while the three men who had been here to help left to do other things, promising to return at high tide. Simon and Todd’s presence, and help, made me feel even gloomier as it amplified the fact that I had no such relationship of my own, and that I had been in this seemingly go-nowhere romance forever, and now felt that I was using Simon. I had, I reasoned, agreed to feed the men all weekend. But somehow “Will work for food” not being on the doctors’ agendas made me feel a little sleazy. As already stated, my disposition was unusually down, allowing me to wallow in selfish thoughts of how desperate my situation was both personally and professionally in the immediate predicament in spite of the fact that if I had examined my life at all, I would have noticed that I had little to complain about. So I would focus on how the float teetering on the brink of disaster might be a microcosm for my life in general. When friends had voiced similar complaints, I hadn’t had much patience and always advised that they change something. “You are solely responsible for your own happiness” was something I needn’t hear now in echo.
    Two trucks started on the hill behind me—Simon and Todd in one, and Howard in the other. I never turned to wave good-bye or to thank them, but instead stood staring at the incoming tide as it teasingly lapped the lower corner of the stranded float. As soon as the noise of the trucks had dissipated to a distance that I knew would prohibit the men from seeing me, I made my way to a perfect and natural seat in the ledges and sat sheltered from the nipping breeze. Soon the sun poked through the clouds still spitting light snow and lent enough warmth to penetrate the layers of oilskins, sweater, and wool shirt I had carefully chosen this morning knowing that I had a long day ahead of me. Waiting for the tide to rise or fall, which is something islanders spend a lot of time doing, is much like watching the proverbial pot that never boils. But today I didn’t mind this seemingly do-nothing time as I managed to convince myself that I was actually engaged in the activity of figuring things out. Not that I expected any real revelations in the next two hours. But the truth was, I hadn’t taken much time to just sit and think lately—about the stuck float and about a lot of other things in my life that seemed to be stuck, too.
    My first thoughts were about the actual situation at hand. What if Howard was right, and the tide wouldn’t rise to a height that would float my gear off these ledges until Friday? This was only Sunday. What were the chances of the float’s holding together through five more days and nights of rising and falling and surging up and down, on and off this unforgiving, rocky shore? The ledges in this particular area were steep and jagged. The float had landed on a sharp, peaked ledge that was now