“The Huff and Retort of Her Ladyship Shoal” by Rick Midler
He wandered the jagged rocks, salty dinge licking his sodden socks, recalling the birth and death of a dream. The conception of Her Ladyship, a vessel so sturdy and sleek it could pierce the sea like a needle - and, the Merciless Storms that arrived with a crack of thunder upon the impact of Christening Bottle against Hull. The gale swept Her Ladyship into the cold, black sea, his sweat-earned masterpiece slowly becoming a ghost. The following 20 years were spent laid up in a fog so thick it dulled his hands and threatened his skill.
He heard that thunder crack again, this time perfectly synchronized with a twin diesel motor yacht colliding with the coast. A flustered fisherman shouted over the roars and slaps, “What are you doing on the rocks? I almost killed you, you old seal!” The Shipbuilder huffed, insulted, then accepted the offer to fix the fishing vessel in exchange for a mackerel dinner. Yet, the fisherman sailed off before his debt was fulfilled. Alone again, the Shipbuilder sensed another boat emerging from the mist, settling gently on the shore. Her Ladyship. Safe. Sound. He set sail, heading for the deadbeat’s wake. Perhaps he had been real. Perhaps not.
Now, travelers who sail near that mystic shoal speak of a thunderclap—sharp as glass on mahogany—and the sea’s unexplainable return of what they once loved and lost.
