4. The Nightmare
The Skipper stood on the violently rocking deck of the Minnow. So fierce was the fury of the relentless wind that the impact of every goliath raindrop felt like a bullet against his face. It took every ounce of his strength to hold the wheel steady as the tiny ship was tossed by the gigantic waves. Lightning sliced blindingly across the sinister sky creating a constant roar of thunder. That mingled with the pelting rain, the howling wind, and the raging sea created a terrifying symphony.
Had the circumstances been different he may have reveled in this challenge to test his sailing skills against such a powerful opponent. But as it was he cursed the stormy seas for threatening the innocent lives that were depending on his seamanship for their continued existence.
The flash of another lightning bolt made him aware of another threat. Large, dark, triangular shapes were slicing through the waters around the boat. It wasn't the gray fins that made his heart turn cold. It was what he knew lurked beneath; Endless rows of deadly teeth ready to dismember any helpless victim within their merciless grasp.
"Skipper!" Came a barely audible shout from behind.
"Gilligan!" He turned to see his first mate struggling to climb the steps. As the ship bucked violently he slipped several times on the drenched stairs. The Skipper regretted he couldn't give his Little Buddy a hand but dared not take either of them off the wheel. Only by hauling himself up on the handrail did Gilligan finally ascend the stairs and make it to his captain's side. "I told you to stay below!"
"I know, Sir." Gilligan's eyes squinted against the pelting rain as he shouted at the top of his lungs to be heard. "But the Howell's are coming up to tell you they want their money back."
As if on cue Mr. and Mrs. Howell appeared on the deck below. "I say, Captain!" He shouted up at the Skipper, fighting to keep his balance. "This is the most dreadful three hour tour I've ever had the misfortune to experience. You're the worst sea captain I've come across. I want a refund!"
"After all," His wife added. "We didn't pay for a storm."
"Get below deck!" The Skipper shouted, ignoring their demand. "That's an ORDER!"
"How dare you!" Said Mr. Howell in defiance just as a giant wave crashed over the deck. The Skipper and Gilligan watched in horror as the two millionaires were swept into the stormy sea.
"Oh, Skipper!" Was Gilligan's inaudible exclamation. Then he turned suddenly to his captain. "We've got to help!" He shouted, as if he was about to dive overboard after them.
"There's nothing we can do, Little Buddy." As he watched his friend's eyes tear with realization he longed to put a comforting hand on his shoulder to relieve some of both their pain.
But before either of them could really react to their grief they heard another voice from the deck below. "This is the most fantastic typhoon I have ever come across!"
They looked down to see Professor Hinkly standing where the Howells had been only seconds earlier. He was obviously awed into insanity by the power he was beholding.
"Professor!" The Skipper shouted. "I thought you were the smart one! Get below deck!"
"Please!!" Gilligan pleaded.
"Look!" The Professor pointed to the sky, disregarding the dire warning. "Look at the sheet lightning. It's marvelous! I wish I had my meteorological instruments." As he was still speaking another giant wave thundered over the deck. When it had receded the Professor was gone.
"Professor! Oh, Skipper, do something. Do something!" Gilligan pleaded, shaking his arm. But there was nothing he could do. Nothing but fight the wheel, trying to keep the whole ship from capsizing and dumping them all into the violent ocean.
Soon another figure appeared on deck. Her fiery red hair blowing in the wind Ginger somehow made it to the bow of the boat.
Both the Skipper and Gilligan were shouting at her to return to the safety of the hold. But either she couldn't hear their warnings or was ignoring them all together.
"I was in a movie once were there was a violent typhoon at sea." She said as she struck a pose, leaning against the rail. "I had been kidnapped by pirates and…" The boat bucked suddenly and violently, throwing the actress into the turbulent waves.
"Oh, that poor girl!" The Skipper said shaking his head, devastated. Gilligan just stared, open mouthed. He was now shaking all over. The captain couldn't tell if it was from the cold, fear or despair.
The Skipper opened his mouth to say something but Gilligan interrupted. "Oh, no. Not Mary Ann. Mary Ann, go back! Go back!"
The young farm girl looked up at them. She shivered as she clung to the railing with everything she was worth. "I'm scared. I don't want to be down there by myself."
"Don't be scared Mary Ann." Gilligan shouted. "I'll come down and get you."
"Be careful, Gilligan." The Skipper ordered.
"I will." He said, right before he slipped and tumbled down the stairs. After a moment of flailing he finally gained his footing and held onto the handrail for balance. Slowly he guided himself along. The Skipper watched his Little Buddy intently, willing him safely forward. He couldn't help but cheer as Gilligan finally reached Mary Ann.
"Are you okay?" Gilligan asked. The Skipper didn't know how he could possibly hear the conversation on the deck below over the storm, but somehow he did.
Mary Ann nodded. "I'm scared!"
The two just stood there and stared at each other for a moment. They were both gripping the banister for dear life and were terrified to let go.
Gilligan was the first to make a move. Cautiously he released his hold and stretched one hand toward Mary Ann, while still keeping a firm grip with the other. "Take my hand! I won't let go, I promise!"
At first she just stared hesitantly at his hand. But after a moment she built up the courage to release her hold. Just as she let go of the banister and reached for Gilligan's hand there was a loud crash and the vessel lurch violently beneath them as it slammed into some underwater obstacle. Mary Ann screamed as she slipped off the deck and fell toward the churning waves. Gilligan made a wild grab and caught her wrist, suspending her just above the angry waters.
"Don't let go! Oh, Gilligan, don't let go!"
"I won't." He looked down at her. His face strained as he tried to keep his grip on her and the handrail, the only thing that kept them both from plunging into the watery abyss.
"Hold on Little Buddy!" The Skipper shouted down at them. "Hold on!"
"I'm slipping!" Gilligan shouted franticly. "Skipper, help!
He wanted more than anything to release the wheel and assist his friends. But he was frozen in place. His feet seemed to be glued to the deck and his hands to the wheel.
There was another crash and the ship jerked fiercely. The Skipper watched helplessly as Gilligan's fingers slipped from the rail and sent the first mate and the sweet, young farm girl plunging into the stormy sea.
"Gilligaaaaaaan! Noo! No, no, no! Oh, Gilligan." He cried, his devastated voice rising above the raging storm.
Another great wave dashed the vessel once again against the submerged rocks. The sideboards groaned in protest against the destructive force. The stress was just too much for the little boat. Being repeatedly slammed against the hard stone it began to fall apart. The Skipper stood helpless at the wheel as the floor boards beneath his feet parted from one another as if the nails holding them together had simply vanished and they were now free to go their separate ways. The lumber crumpled out from under him and the Skipper was suddenly engulfed the freezing blackness of the sea.
And from that darkness came something even darker, more sinister. He tried franticly to escape the approaching shadow. But no matter how hard he swam the dark form still drew slowly nearer. It was as if it knew he could not escape and would vanquish him at its leisure.
His arms and legs pumped continually, desperately, propelling him all to slowly through the thick, murky blackness. His lungs felt like they would explode and he had to fight the overwhelming urge to take a breath. At that point he realized he could not distinguish which way was up. He was not sure if he was swimming toward the surface or the ocean floor.
Then the creature was upon him. There was a flash of white teeth as the deadly jaws latched onto his arm. It shook him violently, turning the sea red. But somehow there was no pain. He tried to fight, to pull away, but the grip was like a vice.
"Skipper." Somehow a voice reached his ears through that thick inky gloom. It was Gilligan's voice and it seemed to be coming from the shark! My poor Little Buddy! He thought as realization dawned on him. That shark ate him whole and he's still alive in there!
"Skipper. Skipper, wake up. Skipper!" The shaking continued as the dark sea around him dissolved and Gilligan's concerned face faded into view.
"Wha?" Had his Little Buddy somehow escaped the sharks and drug him to land?
"Are you awake?" Gilligan stopped shaking him and released his arm.
"Awake?" The Skipper shook his head, trying to clear it. He was drenched from head to toe. It took a moment to realize it was only his own sweat and not from the savage waters of the ocean. He glanced around, his chest still heaving. He was safe in his hammock, the moon shone brightly through the window, unhindered by clouds. It illuminated the inside of the hut enough that he could tell that everything was in its place. Relief swept over him like the cool night breeze. It was all a dream!
"Are you alright?" Gilligan asked. "You were dreamin' and boy you were sure yelli'n at me."
"I was?" The Skipper wasn't really listening. All of a sudden his stomach felt queasy and the room seemed to be spinning.
"Yeah, you were. You were yelling 'Gilligan, no! No! No!' Boy, I must'a done something really dumb for you to yell at me like that."
"I gotta…I think I should…I need some fresh air."
He pushed himself to his feet and the room began to spin sickeningly. He tried to take a step for the door and nearly lost his balance. He steadied himself for a moment on the pole that held their hammocks. He was panting heavily and could barely see straight.
"Are you alright, Skipper? You don't look so good." A look of concern crossed Gilligan's boyish face.
"I'm fine!" He said, a bit louder then he had intended. "I'm sorry Little Buddy. I didn't mean to yell at you. I am a little dizzy. But I just stood up to fast, that's all. I'm going to go for a little walk. I'll be fine. You just go back to bed." He was trying to convince himself as well as Gilligan that it was nothing. But he knew better. He didn't think he had ever felt so awful in his whole life. His head was spinning, his vision was blurry, his stomach was churning and he was aching all over.
"Well, if you're sure you're alright." Gilligan sounded doubtful.
"I'm sure." And with that he staggered drunkenly from the hut and into the jungle. As soon as he was past the first line of brush and out of view of the huts he fell to his knees and threw up.