Gold Coast Australia

Halloween Competition Story

HELLCOAST HALLOWEEN

The darkest day for Green Watch

Waking up to the cry of ‘all hands on deck!’ fills many sailors with an element of fear. Drunk from a lack of sleep you’re expected to race up the companionway only to be met by the vengeful side of Mother Nature. Who needs a Hallowe’en story when the forces of the sea fill us all with fear.

In these conditions one’s bunk quickly becomes a haven where you’re able to rely upon the other watches to maintain the steady and safe progress of your vessel towards Geraldton on the West Australian coast.

Warm and cocooned in a sleeping bag, one ear filled with the music of Beethoven’s 6th it is difficult to determine if that really was an 'all hands on deck' or just the normal screaming and other noises from above decks. Waiting just a moment, peeling the music from one’s ear and hearing nothing, the 'ghetto' as we call it or crew sleeping quarters is dark and totally silent. There is no moon out to illuminate this late October evening in the Southern Ocean, looking around you hear and see nothing.

There is no sign of movement from the other six yachtsmen from your watch who are occupying the total of fourteen bunks in this mid ships section of Gold Coast Australia in the Clipper Round the World Yacht Race.

The night before had been dramatic for the crew, the wrapping of a spinnaker and the breaking of a pole had tested the crew to the limits. Being so physically exhausted when Green Watch was finally relieved of duties falling asleep was only a problem because the adrenaline was still flowing from the extreme sailing conditions. The element of danger in sailing fills most with fear and the far unknown depths of the sea hide a mysterious and unknown world of creatures still yet to be understood and discovered.

The sounds of the boat can work in two ways, the rhythm of the water and slow rocking nurses some to sleep while the shouting of crew and flapping of the sails keeps others wake. However tonight at this point of time nothing could be heard but the woosh of passing water. The boat was quiet, dark and it was impossible that such calm could exist if the faint 'all hands on deck cry' had been for real. Laying back down and zipping himself back into the protective warmth of his sleeping bag, Tim retreated away from thoughts of sailing... once again blocking his ears with the soothing symphony of sounds from his iPod.

''Tim, get up,'' said Babs, ''I can't get the door open''. ''Oh go away Babs, let me sleep'' as he was unwilling to surrender to the cold air awaiting him. Tim knew Babs would be persistent and raised his head out of the corner of the sleeping bag to see her standing there doing the strange style of dance which he came to know on the boat as the ‘waiting for the heads’ dance. ''I need to go and can't open the door''. Having sailed together now for a number of months he knew she would not be asking if there was not a genuine need so begrudgingly getting up, and with his accustomed look of condescension, rolled his eyes making his way towards the door. ''You have to put some effort into these things Babs''. Belittling her efforts to open the door before himself soon realising that it was not so easy.

Trying for a second and third time the door would not give. They for some reason were locked into the sleeping quarters of the boat. ''What’s going on do you think? Why would they have locked the door.'' Frustrated and desperate at her situation Babs knocks at the six-inch thick steel door.
''Let us out guys!''With no reply forthcoming the pair looked at each other with puzzled faces.

''There has to be a logical reason why we can't get out... the boat must have hit something or I don't know... I am sure the skipper will let us out soon'', said Tim hoping to just return to sleep. ''I am going up the hatch then to get them to open the door'' said Babs, getting more and more in need of the heads. Turning the four locks which hold down the hatch and using all her might to try to raise it she once again turned to Tim, defeated by a heavy object atop the hatch. ''Great, this is so typical of the other watches. What are they playing at?'' She wondered where the rest of our crew were. They could both still hear the swoosh of the passing water along the sides of the vessel and feel the gentle swaying of the boat but missing was the normal banter of voices. From the outside there were no calls for trim or general conversation which was unusual for the boat carrying 17 crew.

''This just won't open also'' cried Babs feebly throwing her weight upwards in an attempt to open the only alternative exit to the ghetto.
''We really have been locked in Tim.''

“Look I don't know what they are doing but they would not be keeping us down here without a valid reason. Just try to hold on or something, Sorry but I am going to sleep.” Selfishly content to leave the strange situation for Babs to deal with alone.

Once again retiring to his escapist world of classical music, trying in vain to sleep however not even Beethoven was able to un-puzzle Tim's mind to provide a logical reason as to why the skipper of Gold Coast Australia, Richard Hewson, would have locked an entire watch in the ghetto.
Clearly something was amiss on decks or Richard had finally lost it, he pondered. Sleep just was not going to happen. Looking towards the ghetto door he now saw Tas, a sweet English girl whom Babs had awoken out of her still growing need. Both were having no luck with the door or hatch.

''Try going out through the rope locker'' suggested Erich who was sleeping in the bunk directly next to the door and had been kept awake by the unfolding drama. Rushing to the newly-realised chance of escape Babs made haste for the rope locker at the bow of the yacht. Happy to find the door between the two compartments was easy to open and not locked or hampered like the other seemed to be. ''Hello, what’s going on... help guys!'' she calls out, finding that the option of exiting via the hatch leading from the rope locker is also blocked. This time waking up all who were sleeping in the ghetto. Dan and Tigger were reluctant to get involved and out of bed just to entertain the growing plight of Babs and the general confusion growing out of the situation.

Dan was the watch leader and, like Babs, Tim, Tas and Erich had before him, tried in vain to open the main door out of the accommodation area and the two hatches leading up to the deck. Still nothing would seem to open the exit points. Tigger, so named for the characteristic he shares with A A Milne’s ever keen and enthusiastic tiger from Winnie the Pooh jumped up from his bed, skidding around the corner and trying for himself, only to come to the same conclusion as all the others... they were trapped.

Taking the lead Dan tried to calm the nerves of Tas who was newer to the boat and growing more concerned as to exactly what was going on. With the six voices of Green Watch all growing louder, trying to broadcast their view to explain why their skipper and 12 fellow crew would have locked them in the accommodation section, it was starting to get out of control. As the frustration grew and theories more strange, few took issue as Babs quietly returned from the rope locker... no longer in such an urgent need to escape the other members of Green Watch took sympathy on her predicament and correctly guessed that they would also be needing to take the same action for relief sometime soon if the doors remained sealed.

''Look'' Said Dan, ''I have no idea what’s going on... Let’s try to sleep a little more and see if they open the door soon and tell us what’s going on''. The worry on all their faces was evident. Sleep was just a band aid approach to something clearly being wrong on decks with the other two watches and skipper of Gold Coast Australia. Taking the logic offered to them from Dan, both Tigger and Erich retreated to their bunks. Tim once again trying to lose himself into the world of music as he watched Tas and Babs slowly talk themselves into hysterics. Hours had passed and a small stream of light was now emitting from one corner of the main hatch. Tas, with eyes glued to it searching for a clue as to why they were being held like cargo in the ghetto, was determined to get to the bottom of this puzzle.

“What’s happening up there?” Asked Dan as they all heard the normal sounds associated with tacking the yacht, only this time there were no commands of ''ready to tack'' or ''lee-ho''. In almost silence the six members of Green listened to the transferring of sails from one side of the vessel to the other. Gaining their balance on the new tack as the tilt of the ghetto reversed they all looked to Tas who was the only one able to see outside. Answering the need for information apologetically and confessed she had nothing to offer them.
''I can't see anyone'' she explained as the normally restrained and introverted Erich banged at the hatch trying to be noticed by someone... anyone.

''Look guys clearly they have a no intention in letting us out, the boat is still sailing somewhere and I am sure our Skipper will have a perfectly sound reason as why we need to stay down here,” offered the more practical thinking Dan. ''We might be down here for a while so let’s work out how much food we have and get the emergency jerry cans of water.” Both Babs and Tas's emotions could not be eased by the setting forth of a survival plan. In need of constant distraction, Tigger set out looking in the bags of the crew members not present for stashes of snacks and other useful items. Tim quickly joined him more out of curiosity as to what was in the luggage of his fellow crew. Starting first with that of Red Watch’s Steve Knuckey, Tim knew there was a seemly endless supply of chocolates and other treats which could help sustain the six of them throughout this ordeal. As Tim and Tigger started to stockpile the different items they had found on the various free bunks Tas shouted, “They’re moving a sail!”

Pushing his way to the vantage point on the hatch Dan, believed his eyes had betrayed him as he witnessed a full sail bag almost floating past the hatch towards the bow. They could all hear the sounds of a sail change, the clew hitting the deck... the ruffling of the sail as it was hanked on and the flapping of both the drop of the old and hoist of the new sail. All the usual sounds they had come accustomed to hearing, minus the voices of their fellow crew.

“'I don't like this anymore,”' cried Tas. As one of the most recent leggers to join the crew she burst into tears. ''Why are they doing this to us?” Answering Babs, Tim had no news that could console her. All they could tell was that the crew of Gold Coast Australia, for whatever reason, were keeping them down there. The why's and what if spiralled into all sorts of explanations.

“Maybe we were taken over by pirates, or we are quarantined,” offered Tigger.

“The skipper has probably lost it and is taking us all hostage” was Erich's guess. Tim, who had seen his normally chatty watch leader Dan recoil into the corner of the ghetto, approach to gain his view of the situation. ''Any ideas mate?” Tim asked. Quietly Dan leaned forward, his face pale and drawn in a soft voice to prevent the others being too alarmed. Dan began to explain what he had seen through hatch to Tim.

“There was no one carrying the sail during that sail change, all I could see was this shadow,”' offered Dan. “'It is just the angle you were on mate, yeah'”... Tim again trying to make reason from all the hysteria growing around him. ''No Tim,” Dan, sounding more paternal than before, looked Tim in the eye and explained. “'The shadows were not on the deck Tim, they were upright... carrying the sail bag.” “Shut up Dan... What are you guys playing at? This joke is upsetting the girls and making me angry,” said Tigger, as it was impossible to keep a conversation private in such small quarters.

“They were vertical, dark like shadows lined up along the sail bag as it passed the hatch just now, I am not playing a trick and have no idea what is going on but if you look out that hatch you will see it for yourself,” voiced Dan, infuriated at his sceptical crew members. With little option Tim resigned himself to staring through the hatch. Around him over the whispering and cries from some of his watch members could be heard the sounds of a vessel being sailed by a painfully silent crew. Tigger had passed the time organising every item he found in the luggage of others into piles around the room. He sourced a large variety of food including cans of tomatoes stored in the bilges, mobile phones sadly without range and items which could be used as a means of self-defence, as he still decided that the yacht must have been taken by hostile pirates.

Being one to constantly keep an eye on his watch, Tim knew it had been two hours of staring out of the hatch before they heard an unclicking sound.

''They are lifting the pole,” announced Dan. Determined to keep his prime position for viewing the outside world, Tim held on to the rungs of the ladder leading to the hatch, watching for any sign of movement when his face dropped... his face white and losing his footing he fell from the ladder to the ground, too shaken to feel any physical pain. “'What are they Dan?” he cried. Unable to keep what he had witnessed from the others, Tim explained how a shadow, a transparent dark grey cloud, stood vertically alongside the spinnaker pole as it moved over the hatch before lodging the spinnaker pole into its housing on the mast.

Tigger, not wanting for fall for some awful practical joke, jumped up onto the ladder rungs which offered the best view, to see the bag of Gold Coast Australia's medium weight spinnaker being carried past by exactly what Tim had described. “Crikey!”' was all he needed to say to send the entire room into panic mode. “What are they? Where are Richard and the crew? Why are we locked in here?” were the questions no one could answer. A deeply rooted fear had set in amongst the entire watch.

Determined to find a way out of the forced imprisonment, Erich studied the door. ''If we remove the hinges we could open this door from inside.”.
“Don't let those things in!'' yelled Tigger, with Tim quick to agree. By now both Tas and Babs were inconsolable. “I want to get out of here!” screamed Tas as she headed for the door to assist Erich in removing the hinges of the door.

In his vain attempt to maintain leadership of the situation Dan tried to stop them, explaining we know little about what is going on up there and the intentions of whatever those shadowy creatures sailing our ship are or what has happened to our skipper, Richard, and the other two watches. “So, what? We wait until we are out of food? or drown? Or until goodness knows what happens to us?” voiced Babs as the watch grew divided with Erich and the girls working at opening the door and the three remaining guys content on maintaining the status quo, hoping somehow the problem would quickly conclude.

Unable to beat a determined woman at any time the three stood back powerless as Erich, Tas and Babs unscrewed the hinges to the door separating them from the shadowy figures sailing the vessel. ''Quick!” cried Tas, believing that the entire situation was some practical joke and all would be revealed on opening the doorway. As the last screw holding the hinges fell to the floor the entire six of them drew a deep breath, not knowing if it was to be one of their last.

“Are you ready?” said Erich looking around, both Tas and Babs pushing him to the side in a rush to stop this awful game. Clunk. As the door opened Tim dived into his bunk, still using it as haven away from the outside world. Determined that the shadowy creatures would have no good intentions upon meeting with them. As the heavy door fell and the remaining five looked into the saloon, seeing nothing they steadily made their way through, apprehensively, each step filling the group with more nervous energy than they had ever felt previously.

Krank... the sound of the primary winch being let off made them all jump out of their skins. ''Someone is up there, guys.'' Dan set forward, armed with a dinghy oar and an open sailing knife. Following close behind was the normally fearless Tigger, who this time was not showing such a brave face but moved forward none the less. Reaching the companionway they came once again face to face with what they had both seen from below. Only this time they were not shielded by the hatch... Standing directly in front of them was a large, looming, shadowy mass.

“What is it, Dan?” asked Tigger, trying to get an answer and prevent his brain scaring itself to death. “'I don't know buddy, but there is another behind the helm...”

Looking around the pair could see that there were numerous dark shadows around the different parts of the deck. Some were located on the bow, some in the yacht’s snake pit and even a smaller one could be spotted half way up the mast. The shadows, undaunted by Dan and Tigger’s presence on decks, continued to seemingly sail the boat. Watching the wheel of the helm turn from port to starboard before quickly returning to port could be explained by the movement of the water pushing the rudder from side to side.

However when Dan and Tigger turned towards the middle of the yacht they watched as one of these mysterious dark grey sails removed the safety turn on the primary Yankee winch. That was when the coffee grinder sprang into action, freaking out both the guys on deck and Erich and the girls who had not yet been brave enough to walk out of the saloon onto the boats deck. The noises of the coffee grinder had Babs and Tas on decks in no time, equally stunned by the sight around them.

''Are they ghosts? Can they see us? What’s going on Dan?” screamed Babs. At this point Tim also joined them on decks, afraid of being left in the ghetto on his own. The sight was too much for the six of them to speak... words were meaningless as they all were unable to surmise exactly what was going on. ''There are 12 of them,'' declared Erich. ''We had 12 others on our crew” stated Tas, not knowing where to sit or retreat as these shadowy figures moved freely about the vessel, continuing to drive the boat forward. Winches would just be taken in by nothing but a dark grey and mysterious shadow. The main sheet likewise would come in and out in perfect time with the winds and ever changing sea state.

“Where are Richard and the crew?” questioned Babs, still not realising what she was witnessing. ''I think these things are our crew, or were our crew... either we are dead or they are,” declared Dan. Tigger hit him to see if instead it were all a dream and the force of this hit could wake one or all of them up.
“'Look you idiot, stop that... We're not dead... they are... all of them,'' said Dan. Looking around they knew he was correct. Yet still the vessel continued to drive forward, the waves still swooshing past the sides of the boat. All seemed perfectly normal apart from the fact that the entire crew of Gold Coast Australia had vapourised into smoky shadows, destined to forever sail the boat towards Geraldton. Taking a moment after realising that something terrible had happened to their sailing comrades, silence once again returned to the boat, however instead of an eerie silence, this time it was more mournful and reflective.

''How did all this happen?'' said Tas, unable to fully comprehend, like any of them really, that in the short space that they had been sleeping in their off watch something very strange had occurred, going back below where it seemed the dark shadows did not follow...The shadows’ eternal purpose to continue the race above decks.

Halloween Competition Photo