“Who is to say what we experience is real?” Bubba asked the Reader as they sat under a tree drinking sun-brewed iced tea with a little added whiskey. “Is that glass of tea in your hand actually there? Is that a real snake coiled at your feet? Is it daytime or nighttime? Are we really sitting here?”

Manny Hampton thought Florida Peninsula Yachts offered him a good deal on a 2024 Grady-White Freedom 415 with a red and blue striped fiberglass hull and four Yamaha 450-hp outboard motors. At forty-one feet in length, this would be his retirement package …  a luxury deep-sea fishing charter with him as captain at the helm.

Manny decided on a meandering shakedown cruise as he sailed from West Florida and eventually make port in the Carolinas. He talked to himself often about his new boat to pass the time of day. ”WOW! What a deal! This baby has twin 22-foot, carbon fiber outriggers, a pair of 12-inch Garmin GSD Sonar Modules, and two fighting chairs. There is seating in the bow and inside in the galley. Two automatic bilge pumps, a bow thruster, a gyroscopic stabilization system, a shallow water anchor, a deep water sea anchor, air conditioning, eight batteries, blue LED cockpit lights, and red LED cockpit lights at night. She has a 450-quart fish box and two 35-gallon live wells.”

Manny sailed his new toy down the coast of Florida to Key West, then pushed on to the Bahama Islands. He ignored the U.S. Coast Guard bulletins that warned of a possible low-pressure system that could grow into a tropical storm. He was in no hurry – just cruising between 10 to 25 knots. “I can outrun anything in this beauty!” he said smugly. 

“She has two 250-gallon fuel tanks and a 12kW diesel, 30-gallon generator. She has a deluxe AM/FM/Sat/Marine stereo system, Wi-Fi, Bluetooth connectivity, a 24-inch LED-LCD TV with an HDMI inlet, a fold-down table, a refrigerator, and a microwave. What more could a man ask for in a $1.5 million investment?”

That smugness dissolved as his third day dawned and he saw distant clouds on the horizon darkening, so he decided to be a bit less callous and somewhat more protective of his new investment. He checked his charts and decided he could make Golding Cay or Williams Island in the Bahamas. The more he studied his charts, the more he realized Golding Cay would not offer much protection in a storm. “Williams Island doesn’t look promising either. I’ll push on to Red Bays on Andros Island.”

Two hours later, the distant dark clouds were not as distant, and his stomach complained about being empty. He checked his dashboard gauges. “I’m still good on fuel in the second tank. I’ve got time to release the sea anchor and make me a sandwich.” He had no sooner returned to the helm than he saw a wall of water rapidly approaching from the northwest.

The rogue wave slammed into the boat and rolled it. Manny’s $1.5 million dream was upside down and she struggled to resist sinking. The Quad motor propellors whined since they were not in the water until they chugged, sputtered, and died. Manny was briefly trapped in an air pocket. He regained his orientation as he watched anything loose, including his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, float away. Slowly, the boat rolled and righted itself. “That rogue wave was a prelude to the storm that is coming,” Manny said to himself. “I gotta get this baby moving!” Nothing went right from that point.

The engines refused to start after they sputtered and chugged a few more times. The first 250-gallon fuel tank was empty, and the second tank had some remaining, but the tank was punctured. As fuel oozed out, seawater seeped in. The battery bay was filled with seawater. The two bilge pumps did not automatically engage. The water-proof radio system had no power. Things looked bleak.

Manny worked feverishly on a generator with one eye on the approaching storm and the other eye occasionally glancing at the falling barometer. Finally, he got one engine to kick over. He nursed it along as the boat limped toward shore. “I have no idea where I am, but there must be some safety on that coast.”

The clouds darkened more as the winds picked up. Manny glanced up long enough to see a huge waterspout to the northwest. Lightning showed him a break in the coastline that looked like the narrow mouth of a beast, then widened to reveal an opening to a protected bay. Thunder covered the sound of the bile pumps when they shut down. The only functioning engine continued to sputter, cough, and smoke as Manny nursed the boat into the bay. The sky was an angry black and gray color as he nudged his boat ahead. He had two large battery-powered lanterns lighting his way forward twenty to thirty yards at a time. A huge lightning flash illuminated the interior of the bay. Manny was surprised to see a town strung out on the shoreline. He checked his charts and decided he had an old chart or the wrong chart or he was not as skilled a navigator as he had once thought.

Manny was near exhaustion as his boat nudged against a time-worn dock just as the boat’s engine gave up. He used one of the lanterns to light up a mooring at the end of the dock and tie off the bow. He used several more ropes to secure his boat to face the incoming tide and winds. He turned to face the shed at the dock’s entrance – expecting to see the dockmaster. Instead, he saw no one.  He saw a diner or a bar, a marina service center, a church, a hotel, and several houses crowded together for protection from the sea. But no people. Well, he thought, who in their right mind would be out in weather like this … except the screwed-up owner of a screwed-up boat? Everything was dark except for the lights in the diner. He grabbed his foul weather slicker and headed ashore. He rattled the door of the dark marina office, but no one responded.

As he stopped at the diner’s door, he heard nothing – no conversations, no music, no laughter, no glasses being raised in a toast. The howling, swirling wind added to the eerie setting. He opened the door and stepped into an even deeper sense of silence. There were people inside at tables and they slowly turned to stare at the stranger. The bartender softly said, “There’s an empty table next to the busted piano in that corner. I assume you want a whiskey and a beer chaser.”

“You read my mind, friend. Thank you.”

The patrons in the bar returned to staring at each other across their tables. There was no conversation. The bartender delivered the whiskey and beer and said, “Ten bucks. Drink up and leave.”

“Do you mind if I dry off some?” Manny sarcastically asked.

“Yes, yes we do mind,” the bartender said flatly. “Drink up and get out.”

“Can you tell me where I am? My chart did not list this harbor.”

“This is the Dinghy Bar and Grill,” the bartender growled. “Now drink up and get out.”

Back out in the swirling winds, Manny felt more rain hitting his back. “I gotta get out of this weather.” He looked around for some shelter and noticed a sign proclaiming the Thunder Harbour Hotel was just up the road. The door to the hotel creaked as he opened it and walked into a foyer lit by a single kerosene hurricane lamp. Night clerk must be sleeping, he thought to himself as he searched the counter for a bell. “Hello?” he called. “Anyone here?” He found a solid brass Victorian-style service bell and tapped it several times. “Hello? A customer needs a room! Hello!” 

Silence.

He looked at his watch, then noticed his hand was covered with dust cobwebs from the bell. They are not too tidy around here. I guess they don’t get a lot of business during hurricane season.

He gave up on the night clerk, walked behind the counter, found the key to the first room, and walked down the hall to Room #2. The door did not open. He tried keys to the other nine hotel rooms on the first floor but to no avail. Manny started up the stairs to investigate the second floor, but the hair on the back of his head crackled and he changed his mind. He left the hotel – frustrated, wet, and cold.

Outside, he stopped in front of the old church. It was dark, shuttered, and foreboding. What is it with this town? Are they closed for the holidays? Then Manny had another idea. Maybe they shut down the town and evacuated before the storm arrived. Yeah, that’s gotta be it. The storm surge would probably wipe out everything. Only a few hardy souls are left and they are all in the bar.

The rain and the wind were getting more severe. Manny leaned against the wind to walk back to his boat. I’ll sleep onboard tonight. Clear skies and a clear mind tomorrow will make better decisions. He stopped when he saw a lone figure standing beside the door of the service center on the dock. “Ahoy!” he called out. The shadowy figure did not move, but his lantern slowly swayed in the wind. “I say, Ahoy!”

The shadowy figure took the shape of a man in a seaworthy slicker as he approached. The tall, thin man with a gray beard smiled. “You must be crazy to come to this harbour in this storm! Have you heard we can expect winds up to 60 mph? Maybe even a hurricane?”

“A rogue wave damaged all electronics and my engines. I did not have much choice. Where the hell am I?” Manny pleaded.

“This is Thunder Harbour. I’m Caleb Wisdom, the harbour master. Come on inside! I’ll make youse some coffee youse will have ta chew before youse swallow it.”

Caleb was right … the coffee was very strong, but it warmed Manny from his throat down to his toes. “I got kicked out of the bar, couldn’t find a room at the hotel, and couldn’t find any shelter at the church,” Manny explained. Finding you was a wonderful relief.”

Caleb chuckled. “Ha! Old Sebastian don’t like storms, don’t like change, and he damn sure don’t like strangers. The rest of thems people in the Dinghy Bar and Grill are scared shi … well, theys scared a lot. ‘Scuse my language. Theys waited too long to escape the coming storm, so theys stuck here … waitin’ out the big blow.”

Manny felt some relief. “I appreciate the explanation, Caleb. I plan to sleep on my boat tonight. Can we look at my boat tomorrow and make some repairs?”

“We can damn sure try,” Caleb said as he slapped Manny on the shoulder. “Get some shuteye and we’ll takes a look-see in the morning.”

The weather was better in the morning. The winds were still blustering over 40 mph, but the rain had stopped. They worked feverishly all day and half the night until Manny got frustrated and tired of hearing Caleb say he was sorry for having the wrong tools, old broken-down equipment, and spare parts. Together they jerry-rigged two engines and one bilge pump. They gave up on the radio. Manny and his $1.5 million boat limped out of Thunder Harbour with minimal repairs.

Like most things jerry-rigged, the repairs last only a few hours. Manny’s dream boat broke down and began to roll, pitch, and yaw. His boat started taking on water and there was nothing he could do except take pen and paper to write a will … if his body was ever found.

 “Look there! 11 o’clock low!” Petty Officer Raymond Marsh yelled in his headset as he pointed out the window of the Cessna patrol plane of the Royal Bahamas Defence Force.

“Got it!” Captain Javier Ames replied. He switched channels on the plane’s radio and transmitted, “This is RBDF Patrol plane #3 to Dispatch! We have spotted a boat in distress, floundering about 65 miles north, northwest off Crab Cay. We see a lone survivor aboard.”

“Message received. Continue to circle to the boat until we can arrange a cutter to intercept.”

“Negative, Dispatch. We will circle, but the boat is sinking. I strongly request a rescue helicopter.”

“Understood.”

When the U.S. Navy rescue helicopter arrived, they spotted a man in the water surrounded by a debris field from the sunken boat. Manny was dripping wet when he was hoisted up to safety and then flown to Nassau.

When Manny dried off at RBDF Command at New Providence Island, he started describing his ordeal. “What is it about those people in Thunder Harbour? They didn’t seem to have any desire to do anything. The bartender Sebastian at the Dinghy Bar and Grill didn’t want to serve a new customer, so he threw me out. I asked the harbour master Caleb Wisdom about all the repairs needed for the hotel. He said there were no plans to fix the roof or anything because no one stayed there anymore!”

RBDF Commander Coln Osbourne listened quietly to Manny’s story. He interrupted to ask, “Where did you say this happened?”

“At Thunder Harbour,” Manny said with eyes wide.

“Please continue,” Commander Osbourne said with a wave of his hand.

“And you can forget getting any help at the marina,” Manny said. “Caleb is a nice old man but doesn’t know a monkey wrench from a welding torch!”

Osbourne interrupted again, “Mister, you couldn’t have been at Thunder Harbour. You must have misunderstood.”

“Naw, it was Thunder Harbour,” Manny said confidently, then added, “But I couldn’t find it on my charts.”

“Maybe it was Red Bay or Kemp Bay. Maybe Mars Bay or Bullock Harbour.”

“I’m telling you it was Thunder Harbour!” Manny said as he became agitated. “I was in the old, abandoned hotel! Sebastian kicked me out of the Dinghy Bar and Grill. I spent a day and a half working with Caleb Wisdom on my boat at Thunder Harbour Marina! What’s your problem?”

“Thunder Harbour was hit by Hurricane Sharia thirty-two years ago, Mr. Hampton. What the surge did not drown … what the winds did not blow away … the fires consumed. There were no survivors, Mr. Hampton.”

“But I talked with many people!” Manny protested.

“Did you, now? Or did you just talk at visions of people? There has not been a living soul in that rubble in all the years since then.”

“What rubble? There were buildings and houses and some people! What are you talking about?”

“All the inhabitants – every blessed man, woman, and child – died. Those who could not escape took final shelter with Sebastian in the Dinghy Bar and Grill. We took bodies and parts of bodies from what was left of Sebastian’s place for days. We found the body of Caleb Wisdom skewered to a splintered mooring, the only remnant remaining of the dock.”

Manny was in shock, unable to speak.

“Thunder Harbour no longer exists,” Osbourne explained. “It was quite literally wiped off every chart. If you met people, you met ghosts!”