The Tide of the Bay by Harcourt Tendhall
10 May 2022 { Action/Adventure }
The moon may control it, but it seems to have a life of its own, flowing and ebbing twice a day. We only see the moon once every 24 hours, so without going into the science of it, that can seem confusing. The time of day for full tide varies as well, just to add to the confusion. I have wondered how the tide of a sea would change on a world with two or more moons, but I guess I’ll never find out.
Having lived on the shore of this bay for so long, I think I know the tide fairly well, but that’s a dangerous mistake to make. It can fool you and catch out the unwary. It isn’t so simple as ebb and flow. The strength of the tide varies with the season and the weather. There are also currents in the bay that can fool you into thinking the opposite is happening. If you watch those who use boats in this bay, rarely do you see them crossing in a straight line. You can see joyriders on jet ski’s and such ignoring them, but those who sail or row; they know the currents and use them to make their journey easier, rather than fight them.
We often row out to the hidden cove on the island in the middle of this bay. It’s only a small, craggy island, just an inhospitable lump of rock and sparse vegetation as viewed from the shore, but on the seaward side is a hidden cove with a small beach. It’s our secret place. In all the time we’ve been visiting it, nobody has ever intruded on us. However, at least once a year, we’ve been disturbed when we’ve had to call the coastguard to rescue someone who has fallen foul of the tide. They usually get caught in an outflowing current that carries them past the island, far from shore, when the tide turns. Then they just can’t make it back, fighting the outgoing tide and other cross-currents. It is their good fortune that we spot them and make the call, often before they even realise the difficulty they’re in.
I served on the inshore lifeboat that patrols this bay for ten years. I retired a few years back, when a skiing accident left me out of action for some time. When I applied to return to duty, I found the physical just too much. You need to be on top of your game if you are going to put yourself on the line out there. Nowadays, I still keep in good condition, but exercise for pleasure, part of which is rowing out to this cove.
It was here one afternoon that got me back into action again. We were enjoying our lunch on the beach in the cove on the island. As it faces seaward, it was unusual when I heard a child yell, ‘Daddy, Daddy,’ quickly followed by, ‘Stay calm, Harry, I’m catching you.’
I looked out to see a child on a Lilo, floating past our island, heading out to sea, pursued by his father, who already appeared to be tiring.
I pulled on my tee shirt and said to Cathy, ‘Ring the Coastguard, let them know what’s happening and ask them to get the inshore lifeboat out here. I’ll row out to them.’
I set off as she scrambled round to the other side of the island, where we knew we could get a signal. By the time I got to the boat, they were already a good hundred metres further on. Even if the father caught his son, there was no way he was going to get them back.
It took me about ten minutes to reach him.
‘Leave me, get my son!’ he shouted.
‘Don’t be a bloody fool. You’re exhausted, get on board.’
At first, he fought me, but I dragged him onto the boat. It was getting quite choppy out there, and we almost capsized, but once on board, he collapsed in a heap, all fight gone. I continued rowing. Because of the delay, his son had drifted further away from us. The wind was much stronger offshore, making it a lot cooler out here. As I rowed, he started shivering. Fortunately, we always stow a few items on the boat. I threw him a towel. He dried himself and wrapped himself in it.
Checking behind me, I could see his son trying to paddle towards me with his hands. Good; he was still active. That would keep him warmer in the short-term. I reached him about five minutes later.
As I came alongside his Lilo, I said, ‘Harry, keep still and your dad will lift you on board.’
Father, who hadn’t reacted until now, sparked back into life. He grabbed his son and hauled him on board. I passed him another towel so he could dry his son.
I relaxed. Everyone was safe for the moment, but I knew there was no way I could row back to shore.
The father reached out his hand. ‘Thank you so much. You saved both our lives.’
I shook his hand. ‘No problem. What’s your name?’
‘Harold.’
‘Mine’s Jack. Well, Harold, you were lucky I heard your son call out to you. I was relaxing with my wife on that island you swam past, so rowed out to you. However, we’re not out of it yet. The currents out here are too strong to row against with this ebbing tide. Look over your shoulder and you’ll see how far we’ve drifted.’
By now, we were at least half a mile out from the island and still drifting, albeit now as much parallel to as away from the shore.
He looked round and turned back with a worried frown on his face. ‘What do we do now?’
I smiled reassuringly. ‘My wife has phoned the Coastguard. The inshore lifeboat should already be launching. It’ll take them about fifteen minutes to get here. Fortunately, we’re drifting in roughly their direction. Now, put these life jackets on, but keep those towels around you for warmth.’
I passed each of them a life jacket and donned one myself. Now I had stopped rowing, I was cooling down myself, so I began rowing towards the shore. I knew it was futile, but it would keep me warm and maybe stabilise our position. Father and son huddled together for warmth as we waited for rescue.
It was about ten minutes later when I spotted an orange speck in the distance and used my final ace: a flare. I lit it and held it aloft. It did the trick and the inshore lifeboat turned directly towards us. A few minutes later, they were alongside.
The Coxswain hailed, ‘Hello, Jack, aren’t you a little out of your depth here?’
‘You could say that, Geoff. How about a tow back to the island before dropping these two off in the bay?’
‘I guess we can do that. Let’s get you all aboard first.’
Assisted by the crew, Harold and Harry climbed onto the Rib as I stowed the oars and secured a line to my boat before I joined them. When we reached the island, Cathy was waiting, waving to us.
Harold and Harry shook my hand again. I thanked Geoff and the crew and jumped back into my boat. Harold threw the towels and life jackets to me. I cast off the line, and the Rib reversed out of the cove. After waving them off, I rowed the boat the last five yards and jumped back onto the beach.
Cathy hugged me and said, ‘I was so worried about you. When I got back round the island from phoning the Coastguard, you were just a speck in the distance.’
‘Yes, I can imagine. Good job you got through quickly. It was getting chilly out there. Now, is there any tea left in that flask?’
* * *
It was about a week later that the parcel arrived, addressed to me. I opened it to find a great thank-you letter from Harold, together with a bottle of 12-year-old Malt Whiskey, my favourite brand. He had asked Geoff about my taste. We exchanged a couple of old-fashioned letters, before resorting to email, and met them again the following year, when they revisited the village round the bay.
It’s become an annual tradition for them now, and they have become firm friends. Harry is growing into a fine young lad. At his dad’s suggestion, he joined the Sea Cadets last year. He should gain a good understanding of tides from that.
Comments
We would be delighted to know if you enjoyed this story or not. Our authors crave feedback and will hang on your every word. Your comments will only be visible to them.