The Bahamas, May 13, 1987
In the dream I am in a kayak. Suddenly, the winds pick up. A strong surge hits the boat, broadside, and it flips. My legs, encased within the bulkhead and the skirt secured to the cockpit rim, trap me. Frantically, I struggle to free myself, to grasp at the loop that will release the skirt as I press my elbows on each side of the pod to lever myself free. The swell pounds against the craft. The force of the waves tosses the boat like a cork, but I haven't the strength to escape and to flip it upright. I take in mouthfuls of salt water, choke and scream: "Damn!"
I waken to darkness.