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Dinghy Despair

Elliot Key, December 2014

It’s hot. Why is always hot? We have been chased by an angry horde of lifeforms who are out for blood, and are succeeding, one painful drop at a time. The scale of suffering is borderline 11 and we have minutes, nay, seconds left before we cross over into the next life. I have never successfully started the dinghy motor before. It’s always gotten the best of me. But now my life depends on my ability to start the engine; my whole life, all the past suffering and pain, all my future joy and gladness, all leads to this one critical moment. This in my moment to shine! My passengers' eyes are trained on me. The furry one's eyes are filled with despair and resignation to his sad fate. The slightly less furry one's faith is slipping.

A dinghy helmed by a 5-year-old saunters by. I won’t let that Suzuki bastard win. Pull. nothing. Pull, stress getting higher, 3 attempts will flood the engine and abandon us to our certain death on a tropical isle. Oh the irony. Pull. Nothing. Nothing but failure. Disappointment. Disillusionment. Dismay. Do I ring the bell of defeat? Keep up these futile attempts while the sun sets? Someone Else takes over. Someone Else starts it right away. Despair. “See the happy moron?” If I’m a moron, why aren’t I more happy?

A 2.5 hp engine has won, for the moment.

Elliot Key, December 2015

It’s sad, really, that it had to be such a naughty engine. It’s been replaced by a Yamaha 2 stroke 15 hp that starts every time. In the end, the bastard didn't win. 


This is the story of Matt, Lucy and Hastings, the crew of the sailing vessel Dulcinea, a 1985 Cabo Rico 38.

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