|
Sand Dollar: Archives Index
|
Subscribe
|
|
| << March11, 2004 - Sand Dollar: The Bus Ride |
March17, 2004 - Sand Dollar: A Cup of Coffee in His Name >> |
|
Good Morning, Doves Monday, March 19, 2004 Note from Bob: At long last, and HTML version of Sand Dollar is available. If you would like to try the new HTML version, just drop me a note at this address: Bob@Ripplemaker.com. You can always switch back. I hope you give this new format a try A Battery of Angels By Ginger Boda I dialed the number for the tenth time, feeling the fear take hold of my body. Each time I called, I was transferred to my husband's voice mail. Frustrated, I tried my brother's phone, but got no response. By this time, my sister-in-law, Sandy, and I were extremely worried. Mark and Tom assured us that they'd call as soon as they passed Catalina. Dean, the boat's owner, and Tony, had accompanied them on the trip. Since all four had cell phones, surely one of them would've phoned, I thought. I appreciated their excitement about catching lobster on this overnight adventure, but now things were beginning to look fishy to us. We could only pray. Trapping lobster was best done between midnight and dawn. The crew dropped their nets as they trawled for hours, taking turns catching catnaps in- between hauling up the heavy mesh. They were working and laughing when, suddenly, all the boat lights went out. The brand new battery failed. Eerily, every cell phone on board went dead simultaneously. Dean checked the boat's back up battery, but surprisingly, found it lifeless, as well. " What happened?" Tony asked. Dean shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment. It didn't make any sense. Each participated in troubleshooting the problem, but to no avail. The bait began to spoil in the built-in live bait tank, as they sat anchored in the middle of the dark ocean. Unable to call for help, they could only hope that a passing vessel might see them and offer assistance. Our fisherman had been gone for over twenty-four hours, and we hadn't heard a word from them. I could've kicked myself for assuming they'd call us. I should've written down Dean's phone number, I thought, but then remembered someone who might be able to help. By late afternoon I was a nervous wreck, but some relief came as Jeff rattled off Dean's home number. When Dean's wife answered the phone, I held my breath after inquiring about our wandering wayfarers. "Oh, yeah, they just got back," she casually responded. My eyes widened as I gave Sandy a "thumbs up." We both seemed to exhale simultaneously. "That's great, Kathy, may I speak to Mark?" My tired husband no sooner held the phone to his ear, than I began a tirade of scolding for his negligence. "We were so worried, Mark! How could you forget to phone home?" I chided. He explained that all of the phones went dead, as did the boat batteries. Apparently, his bag had also fallen into some water on board, completely saturating his cell phone. As I was digesting this information, Mark rambled on about "Jake this and Jake that." "Who the heck is Jake?" I questioned. "Oh, Jake's our 5 pound anniversary dinner, honey," Mark proudly announced. "Well, get him and his buddies home, will ya? We've been so anxious," I responded. Our weary husbands walked through the door to welcoming hugs, and their story unfolded once again. It seemed obvious that something strange had happened out on that ocean. Fortunately, a ship had come to their rescue, after seeing the feeble flicker of their flashlights. Triple A was contacted to jump the boat's dead battery. Once the engine was started, the stranded crew headed home. We all contemplated the weirdness of our fishermen's tale, concluding that the boys must have been victims of a " Catalina Triangle." What else could it have been? While we enjoyed "Jake" as our supper guest that night, we continued to mull over the day's events. While watching TV the following evening, we were startled by a loud "POP," that shook the house. Thinking it came from outside, Mark went to investigate. I noticed smoke coming from the kitchen, as a putrid odor filled the air. Fearing that we had a fire, I yelled for Mark to come inside. When we opened the oven door, a look of guilt covered my husband' s face. There on the walls of my oven were the remains of his cell phone battery! "Oh, I forgot I put it in there," Mark sheepishly explained. " Really? WHY did you put your battery in my oven?!" I retorted, fuming now myself. Apparently, he'd heard that a short warming in the oven might bring a damaged battery back to life. However, Mark clicked broil instead of bake, then FORGOT all about it. I had never heard of such a thing in my life, and I would have thought this was another fisherman's tale if I hadn't been there myself. Assuming that the baked battery was the end of the saga, I was stunned when I heard what happened the following week. While Dean's boat was parked in the driveway of his home, he decided to troubleshoot the battery problem again. He flipped the switch from the old to the new, just as he had done at sea. Immediately, the gas tank caught on fire and the back of the boat exploded! Firefighters responded quickly and after assessing the situation, declared that Dean was fortunate that the fuel tank was nearly full. Evidently, he and half his neighborhood would have been obliterated had more fumes been present. After Dean relayed the information to Mark, there was silence between them as they both thought back to the night of the fishing trip. Not only were they smoking cigarettes, utilizing a camp stove and flicking the battery switches back and forth; but also the fuel tank was 2/3 empty! Fumes were abundant. By all reasoning, that vessel should have blown up completely, fishermen and all, that night. The sparks alone, from jumping the dead battery, should have ignited the copious vapors. Needless to say, we were awestruck over the obvious fact that angels boarded Dean's boat that night. God's mercy was with them, and the prayers for our husbands' safety had been answered. Consequently, my husband, who seldom embraces such thinking - sighed in agreement. Bottom line - we marry for better or worse, and surely don't intend to jump ship over fish tales or cell phones. After all, Mark did get my oven working, replaced his phone battery, and we enjoyed an amazing lobster dinner. However, the greatest outcome was Mark's fresh awareness of God's presence, and that a battery of Angels, or at least one, not only walks beside him, but clearly doesn't mind fishing. Ginger Boda ?© 2004- Rhymerbabe@aol.com http://www.daily-blessings.com/bless392.htm/What Counts Ginger is an award winning author for Starfish, and contributor to various online publications, such as Heartwarmers, Moments_Of_Reflection, Write2theheart, Insight of the day, 2theheart, Storytime_Tapestry, HeartTouchers and Emerging Courageous. One of her stories is featured in Chicken Soup For The Bride's Soul, which was released in January 2004. Ginger weaves faith, tradition and humor into her stories and poetry, as she strives to lift the spirit and cheer the heart. She has penned her thoughts since childhood, writing mostly for her loved ones, until last year when she began to share her works with the public. She is eternally grateful for all the encouragement and friendship she has encountered on her journey. Ginger resides in Southern California with her husband, Mark and three grown children, Jason 25, Danny 22, and Alisha 20. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ May God Bless You Today Bob Johnston Editor / Publsher Sand Dollar Bob@Ripplemaker.com www.ripplemaker.com ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** If you like Sand Dollar, please recommend it to your friends and help us grow. ~~~~~Important Information~~~~~ To subscribe to Sand Dollar, visit our web site at www.ripplemaker.com, click on "Sand Dollar" and then click on "Subscribe" **** **** **** To cancel your subscription, send a message to: Bob@ripplemaker.com with "Cancel Sand Dollar" in the subject **** **** **** To contribute a story for Sand Dollar, send it to: Bob@Ripplemaker.com **** **** **** If you encounter a problem, please send e-mail to me at Bob@Ripplemaker.com |
|
| << March11, 2004 - Sand Dollar: The Bus Ride |
March17, 2004 - Sand Dollar: A Cup of Coffee in His Name >> |
|
Sand Dollar: Archives Index
|
Subscribe
|
|
|
Archives powered by Zinester's Mailing List Service
Details on Sand Dollar: |
Browse for more newsletters at Zinester's Ezine Directory
Managed by Zinester's Mailing List Management |