DISCLAIMER: I don't own the people written about - and I am not haunted by Phil Harris' ghost! I would never try to make money off these guys - they work hard enough for themselves!

In honor of Phil Harris' Birthday, December 19th…

I would never want this to really happen on the boat – no way, no how – but I needed something dramatic to show Cap'n Phil watching over our boys…

Ghost of a Chance

Waves crashed over the rail and drenched the crew in freezing salt water. Those who remained standing did so only by the grace of God… or Phil. The pot hung over the launcher, swinging to and fro. Jake, who stood by the block, tried to steady it, but the strength of the wind and waves was far greater than his own. It escaped his grip. Josh watched Jake step up on the side rails of the launcher and extend his arms to grab the errant pot. Josh knew that unless he intervened at that exact moment, his brother was a dead man.

Derrick watched from the wheelhouse, microphone in hand, finger on the button, ready to warn the deckhands that a wave was seconds away from annihilating them, but he didn't get the chance. The scene unfolded before him as if illuminated by a disco strobe light. As he pressed his finger on the intercom, the pot swayed like a pendulum in a Poe novel… out to sea and back towards Jake. "No!" Derrick shouted.

Rational thought left both brothers as they were driven by instinct alone. As Jake reached up to save the pot, Josh jumped between the swaying steel and his brother and pushed him off the side of the launcher and onto the deck. If he was lucky, Josh thought, he'd be able to duck out of the way himself before the force of the pendulum took the pot back out to sea. Luck, however, could not trump Mother Nature. He escaped the first swing, but he barely had time to breathe before another wave hit. The boat lurched, throwing the pot further portside before its weight carried it back towards the sea. The strain tugged at the lines holding the pot, causing a corner to loosen and drop towards the deck... and Josh found himself in the direct path of the pendulum. The pot hit him square in the chest, pushing him towards the rail. He grabbed the pot, hoping to hang on and ride it back onto the deck when it completed its arc, but the bridle snapped. Both he and the pot were hurled towards the rolling Bering Sea.

Josh closed his eyes. So this was how his life would end. He felt as if he was being sucked down an endless, dark corridor. Josh prayed that his father would be there to meet him. Phil did not let him down. He heard his dad's voice scream, "Let go of the fucking pot!" Josh uncurled his fingers from their iron grip on the net and the pot slid up his torso, tearing through his raingear and crushing him against the rail. He was about to tumble over the side when a tremendous energy pushed down on his shoulders and forced him back inside the boat. His head hit the rail, and his body slumped to the deck like a sack of herring.

"Josh!" Jake screamed after his brother had shoved him to the floor of the deck. He was livid and opened his mouth to berate him for interfering when he saw the bridle break. From his vantage point, he saw Josh being dragged backwards towards the angry sea. Jake turned away and squeezed his eyes shut. He could not bear to witness his brother being fed to the hungry waters, but when Jake opened his eyes, he saw Josh's body lying in a heap beside the launcher. The offending pot was hanging over the rail at a cockeyed angle, banging against the outside of the boat as if trying to force its way back to claim its prey. Jake watched as Freddie cut the pot lose and it tumbled into the sea, lost to the crew, but at least it hadn't taken its intended victim with it. His brother was still on board, and he prayed, still alive.

Jake crawled across the deck and covered Josh's inert body as another thirty foot wave crashed over the rail. Jake held onto the boat for both their lives. As the wave receded from the deck, Jake pressed his head against his brother's chest… a heart beat… slowing… fading… Then Jake heard a whoosh of air bellow into Josh's chest.

Josh's eyes flew open, and he gulped a mouthful of air and then water as another wave crashed over them. Ryan and Freddie rushed to them as the water drained from the deck. Josh coughed and tried to turn onto his side.

"Don't move!" Jake told him. "Your back might be broken."

"He's choking," Ryan said. Josh grabbed Jake's arm and he felt an invisible force push at his back to help him roll onto his side.

Water spewed from Josh's mouth. His body jerked as he coughed again and again, and he clutched his chest as he gulped air into his lungs. "I'm okay," he finally rasped.

The intercom came alive and Derrick shouted, "Hang on! Here comes another one!"

The men huddled together until the water receded from the deck. Steve had gone inside for a backboard and returned as the boat steadied itself. Ryan pulled Jake aside as Steve laid the board onto the deck, but Josh pushed it away. Despite the warnings of his crewmates, Josh tried to push himself up.

"Damn it, Josh!" Jake screamed as he watched his brother rise to his elbow and then to a seated position as Freddie supported him.

"I'm fine!" Josh yelled at his brother.

The intercom crackled again and Derrick commanded, "Get Josh in here before you all get swept overboard!"

Jake knelt before his brother and stared into his eyes. Did his dad's spirit enter his brother's body? Broken back… but still truckin'?

"You can breathe?" Ryan asked, incredulous. He was sure Josh had to have crushed ribs and a punctured lung.

Josh looked at them as if they were crazy. "Yeah, I told you; I'm okay," he said again. He looked down at his torn raingear. "Fuck! I just bought this."

"Damn it! Get in here!" Derrick shouted again from the wheelhouse. "We're shutting down fishing!"

Ryan stood and said, "Take it easy, Josh. We'll help you up."

"I don't need any help," Josh said, but he plopped back down after he tried to stand. Freddie stood, placed his arm under Josh's armpit, and Ryan took the other. They lifted him to a standing position, and he stumbled as they walked him inside. Jake remained frozen in his spot, shocked that his brother was able to walk, let alone breathe. He looked up at Steve, who extended his hand to help him up. Then Jake picked up the backboard, and he and Steve followed the trio into the ship.

Once inside, Josh slumped onto a seat. He pushed his hood back, leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "Fuck," he whispered

"What the fuck were you doing out there?" Jake asked him as he shrugged off his raingear.

"Huh?" Josh asked as he opened his eyes to look at his brother.

"I said what the hell do you think you were doing?"

"Savin' you," Josh replied. His hand went to the back of his head, and he groaned. He had a monster headache.

"Fuck, you could have been killed, Josh!"

"Ditto, Jake! Why the fuck do you think I knocked you off that launcher?"

Derrick shouted for Steve to relieve him in the wheelhouse. Moments later, he clattered down the steps and stopped in front of Josh. He thrust his hands onto his hips and asked, "How the hell were you able to walk off that deck?"

Josh shook his head. "Fuck if I know."

"Get the gear off. I want to check you out," Derrick said as he motioned for Freddie to help Josh remove his torn raingear. First the slicker came off; next Freddie pulled the sweat shirt and then the tee shirt over Josh's head. Derrick gently felt Josh's ribs and back. There was not a mark on him. "I'm still taking you to St. Paul."

"Not necessary," Josh declared in a steady voice. "I'm fine. Just a concussion."

Derrick crossed his arms and stared at Josh. "Taking after your father?" he asked him.

Josh smirked. "Not by a long shot," he responded. "If my back hurts, I'm not lettin' any of you walk on it."

Derrick chuckled and turned to the rest of his crew. "Check on him every hour, and let me know if I need to call the clinic. I gotta go back up. It's a miracle you're still in one piece."

"And still breathing," Ryan added.

"Yeah… I know," Josh replied. "I saw my life flash before my eyes when I was holding onto that pot." He closed his eyes and shook his head. Then he looked up at Jake and added, "And I heard Dad, Jake… He saved me savin' you."

Jake bit his lip and then asked, "What did he say?"

"He told me to let go of the pot."

"Not your dad, Josh, no cursin'," Ryan said.

Josh smiled, "'Let go of the fucking pot.'"

Freddie laughed. "That was Phil."

Steve entered the room and added, "Watching over you. Let me check your eyes." Steve bent down in front of Josh and moved his finger from left to right. Josh's eyes were glassy, but he passed the test. There wasn't much else they could do for him. "Want some ibuprophren?" he asked, but Josh shook his head. "Okay, I'm going to get some food started," Steve said.

"It's my cook night," Josh reminded the crew.

"Relax, Josh, I'll cook," Ryan offered. He slapped Josh on the shoulder and went to the galley with Steve.

Freddie still had his eyes fixed on Josh, expecting him to collapse at any moment. Jake sat down beside his brother and put an arm around his shoulder. "I thought we lost you, dude. I couldn't hear you breathing and your heart was fading…"

Josh brought his foot up and placed it on the edge of his seat. He propped his left elbow on his knee, grabbed a handful of his own hair and squeezed. His head was splitting. Still, he turned to his brother and said, "Fuck, me too." He closed his eyes. Had it really happened? He was hanging onto the pot, and the next thing he knew he was sliding back into the boat as if he was being pushed through the wringer of an old fashioned washing machine.

He had a vision of his dad leaning over him on the boat, but was it real? Or had he dreamed it? He opened his eyes and turned to his brother. "Dad breathed life back into me, Jake," he asserted. The brothers stared at each other.

Freddie placed his hands on each of the boys' shoulders, looked up at the ceiling, blew a couple of kisses and said, "Thank you, Phil!"

Steve came in with an ice pack and handed it to Josh. "What are you thanking Phil for?" he asked.

Josh pressed the ice against the lump on his skull. "He's thanking Dad for keeping me around. Do me a favor, Freddie, just don't put any blood on your face."

Freddie laughed. "No blood – good thing this time."

Todd Stanley had been filming the entire event. He had to ask…"Josh, how did you not get swept overboard? You were practically out of the boat."

Josh sighed. There was only one explanation. "It felt like hands were on my shoulders pushing me back in." He looked up at Todd, "It had to be Dad."

"It was me." Phil's voice echoed in their ears.

The men stared at each other as if the air had been sucked out of the room. "Dad?" Josh finally whispered.

"Yeah, I'm still here, Ding, and I should whip both your asses! Dong… what the fuck did you think you were doing standing on that launcher trying to grab that pot? If Freddie couldn't hang onto it, you couldn't!"

"But…" Jake stammered.

"Who asked you to talk! A fucking pot isn't worth your life, Jacob. You got that?"

Jake looked around, and then stared at his brother, "Um… yes, sir."

Josh smirked.

"And you, Ding, did you think you were superman riding that pot? Were you looking for a burial at sea?"

"I was gonna ride it back in!" he retorted.

" This is not a fucking TV show, Joshua. This is real life! You would have dropped like a fucking anchor as soon as the pot cleared the rail."

"I wouldn't have!"

"You boys are gonna drive me fucking nuts…"

Freddie laughed out loud. "Already have, Phil!"

"What am I gonna do with these guys, Freddie?"

"Don't worry, Phil. I watch over them."

"All I want is some peace and quiet, and you two boys pull this shit… scared the hell out of me."

Jake smirked. "More like scared you out of hell…"

Phil's hearty laughter filled the room. As always, the sound was heartwarming – but clear – not tinged with the smoke-laced edge he had when he was alive.

"We miss you, Dad," Josh said.

"How long can you stay?" Jake asked.

"I hope I can be here as long as you need me."

"Then you're gonna be around for a long, long time," Josh told him.

"I'm not so sure about that, Josh. I guess there's a ghost of a chance, but… you boys done good. I'm proud of you both."

A bright light seemed to grow between Josh and Jake. Freddie backed away and stood beside Todd as the light brightened and surrounded the brothers.

"Love you, Dad," Josh said, and Jake echoed it.

"Love you both…" The light glowed even brighter and then faded away.

Ryan came to the door as the light faded. "What the fuck was that?" he asked. "Phil's ghost?"

Josh and Jake had an arm around each others' shoulders, their heads leaning against each other's. Both felt exhausted, but at peace.

Freddie turned to him and nodded.

"Fuck!" Ryan exclaimed. "Did you get that on tape?" he asked Todd.

"I don't know," Todd replied.

"Do you think he'll be back?" Ryan asked.

"I guess there's a chance." Todd grinned and added, "A ghost of a chance."

"Depends on whether or not we do something stupid," Jake said.

"Then he'll be back," Josh told them. "No doubt about it."

"Many times," Jake added and chuckled. He stood and offered a hand-up to his brother. "Let's get some food."

"Sure… as long as it's not a sausage, egg and mayo sandwich…"

They left the room and gathered around the table in the galley. Freddie held up his coffee mug and exclaimed, "To Phil!"

The crew smiled, touched mugs and sipped their coffee, knowing that Phil was watching over them. Something told them this wasn't the last time they'd hear from him. As long as his boys were on his boat – he'd be there – whether they needed him or not.

Todd stood back and filmed as the men ate, joked and ribbed each other to no end – a happy group, Todd thought to himself. Then he pulled his eye away from the camera and murmured, "Phil, you done good, too."

We miss you, Phil...