A Pocketful of Passage

8. Fog

The weather changed quickly, silently, as it often does on Lake Superior. As we made our way home from Isle Royale, cool air moved in over the lake. Within minutes a thin layer of haze formed and turned into a blanket of fog so thick we could not see Blake Point behind us. Far ahead, Daddy could barely see the Passage Light. He listened for the fog signal. 49 Fog 01฀Campbell฀text.indd฀฀฀49 12/8/06฀฀฀1:53:44฀PM “Don’t worry,” he said calmly, “We’ll get home. But we need to be careful so we don’t run into another boat. I want you kids to be very quiet so I can listen.” “Not a word, girls,” Mama cautioned us. She rocked my brother, who was fast asleep. Daddy stopped the boat. He rang the bell to alert any vessel nearby. Then he stretched his neck as far as he could and listened. Nothing. We started to move again very, very slowly. Then he stopped again, rang the bell, and listened. The only sound we heard was the slap of waves against the side of the boat. Daddy repeated the process again and again as we crossed the channel: move forward just a bit, slowly and carefully, ring the bell, then stop and listen. I had never seen fog so thick. I looked at Mama. Her mouth was a straight line, and I saw the strained muscles in her neck. She rocked back and forth patting my brother ’s bottom. Then I looked out the little round window. All I could see was white. Daddy stopped once more. All of a sudden we felt a deep rumble and heard a great swishing sound. Then we saw something big and dark. A huge freighter was about to slam right into us! It seemed as tall as a skyscraper to me. Daddy yanked on the rudder with both hands to turn our boat away from the passing ship. Her wake and the foaming water churned up by her propellers tossed our boat around like a tiny cork. We rocked back and forth so hard I thought we would tip over. Mama grabbed the window ledge to keep A Pocketful of Passage 50 01฀Campbell฀text.indd฀฀฀50 12/8/06฀฀฀1:53:45฀PM from falling. Jo and I landed on the floor. Water gushed over the top of the boat and swirled around our feet. “Hold on!” Daddy yelled, pulling on the rudder. Mama screamed and started to cry. When Jo saw that Mama was afraid, she started to wail. All this woke up Sonny and he screamed too. I was silent. Perhaps I was too scared to cry. Perhaps I only thought about how big that ship was. But then I looked at Daddy. He was as pale as the fog, and his eyes were wide open and full of fear. The hard knot in my belly crept up into my throat. I couldn’t swallow . I couldn’t breathe. “It’s OK, Billie. It’s OK,” he hollered to my mother as he tried to keep us from capsizing. When the violent rocking finally stopped, he rubbed his brow with his fingertips. “It’s OK,” he said again. “No, it’s not OK, Vern,” Mama sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore.” I didn’t understand what my mother meant. Yes, that ship had almost crushed us. But Daddy had turned us away in time. He knew what to do. We were safe. Besides, it had been such a wonderful day. No one said a word for the rest of the trip. Soon we could hear the Passage Island fog signal calling to us. We were home. Fog 51 01฀Campbell฀text.indd฀฀฀51 12/8/06฀฀฀1:53:45฀PM ...