Mayday. Mayday

Researching the purported sightings of the real ghost ship I am fictionalizing in my novel “After the Cataclysm,” I came across an official website that warns mariners of hazards at sea. The dangers that lurk on an apparently empty ocean are as diverse as they seem to be numerous.

Hence, whether you are a sailor or an aviator—or even a radio amateur monitoring those frequencies--these distress signals must instill fear and empathy in your heart especially if the indication is that there is danger of loss of life. You immediately realize that someone, somewhere is in peril. Unless, of course, you are the one sending an SOS out into the ether. Then your fear becomes eclipsed by pure terror.

Most dispatches are banal, devoid of urgency and only those familiar with the way of the sea know what is behind them.

Somebody out there is in trouble, and an “assist if possible” and a “sharp lookout” – they always add that - may not be sufficient to save someone's life.

My heart goes out to those in peril. The sea can be a merciless mistress to those who love her. I may have turned into an armchair sailor, but I still hear the ocean’s siren song. I must follow it; but these days, I do it through my writing.

Bygone Carefree Days