He was awakened by a lurch of the boat. Intense disorientation smothered him. He couldn't tell how long they had been asleep because the sun was gone, hidden by a cloak of threatening clouds. The sea had begun to boil, severe chop assaulting the boat. The wind had chilled considerably and to the West... at least he thought it was West... the sky deepened to near-black. She had awakened as well, staring off at the same patch of darkness that had captured his attention. He jumped to his feet.
        "We need to get the sails down before it hits us or they're likely to get shredded.", he failed to completely mask the worry in his voice.
        She stood quickly and began moving toward the front of the boat. She had spent enough time sailing with him to get a good feel for the routine, listening intently to his explanation and instruction. He was already loosening the hank line of the jib when she caught up to him and began cranking the wench that controlled the leech line. She knew what had to be done, bringing the canvas down quickly. As the fabric gathered, he folded it onto itself repeatedly, preparing to bag it.
        Before they had the first of the two sails down the world lit up intensely for an instant. A flash of lightning from the corner of dark sky. They both looked to the storm. It was visibly growing, swallowing the gray skies around it, eating away like a cancer quickly deadening everything in its path. He stepped up the pace of his sail-bagging and continued to look toward the squall, counting in his head. Just as he reached "five" the roll of thunder roared past them. Five miles.
        He couldn't be sure of the storm's heading or speed, so he had no idea how much time they had to get the boat outfitted. Before he had zipped up the jib bag she was already at the mainsail, releasing the cleats on the boom. He moved toward the aft as quickly as he could, but the sea was beginning to churn more violently, forcing him to stop and catch himself twice during the ten-step journey. The wind was stronger now, pushing him roughly at times and all the while adding to the oscillations of the boat.
        Once he reached her he tightened the boom vang to keep it from flailing while they were bringing the sail down. He began winching the luff line vigorously, knowing that the mainsail would take longer to stow than the jib. He stopped every few cranks so that she could pull the batten from the pockets in the fabric. About half-way through the process there was another flash but this time she didn't look, instead staying intently focused on getting the batten removed. As he watched her he counted again, this time not quite reaching "two" before the thunder ripped past. It was a sharper crack this time, rather than the deep boom of the first, which meant it was nearly on top of them
        The air around them suddenly became moist. It didn't feel like rain falling, more like the air had suddenly condensed to liquid. The darkness covered about half of the sky now, looming over them like a huge, dark moon. The condensation in the air became thicker and finally formed drops. He looked at her and could see her hair becoming saturated as the top of the sail finally fell to his hands. He wrapped it around the boom and started tieing it down. She helped hold it in place as he moved along the boom, fighting the wind which was now verging on violent, attempting to pull the sheet from his hands. She was having to grip the rigging to keep herself in place as the dip and sway of the deck deepened with each passing minute.
        He looked up at the mast and rigging, hearing the lines beginning to whistle in the increasing wind. His biggest worry, getting the mainsail down, had passed. There was little worry about the vang line breaking now that the fabric wasn't up to harness the wind. He thought that they should be able to safely secure the rest of the hatches with little trouble.
        He turned to her, "We need to get all the hatch windows closed!", he shouted over the growing din.
        She nodded urgently, pulling away the wet hair that had been plastered across her eyes. She moved to the starboard side, pulling herself along the boom. He moved up the port edge, also holding the boom as well as the rope rail, gripping both very tightly. The amount of effort it was taking to move against the wind set off a small alarm in the back of his mind. This was coming on very quickly.
        The rain was becoming very intense as he closed and locked the first of four hatches on his side of the hold. He could see the interior; books, charts and food had spilled onto the floor. The table in the dining area was shining with wetness and all the sofa cushions were spotted with darkness. He looked over to her, exactly opposite him, making sure she was alright. She was already working the second hatch on her side.
        Suddenly he felt the world drop out from beneath him, his stomach lurching up into his throat. The boat had rolled sideways over the largest wave yet, causing it to lean sharply to port, throwing him against the rope rail in the process. It frightened him how steep the angle seemed to be, but that fear instantly gave way to something more intense as he saw her crash against the base of the mast. She caught it with her shoulder and wrapped an arm quickly around, hanging onto it for dear life as the boat righted itself and began pulling her backward. He now found himself falling forward and grappled for the rope rail to keep from tumbling toward her, possibly unhinging the hold she had on the mast. After two more small leans to and fro, reactions to the initial wave, the boat settled back into its steady, but increasingly violent, rhythm.
        "Baby! Are you okay?!", he bellowed out against the howl of the elements.
        She caught his eyes and nodded her head, pulling herself from the mast and back to closing the third hatch. He looked beyond her, seeing the building waves coming at them parallel to the side of the boat. He knew that they couldn't stay in this position, he had to get them turned into the oncoming undulations. He leaned across the top of the hold, as far he dared while still holding the rope rail in a white-knuckled grip.
        "I've got to get us turned into the waves! If they get much bigger we're running the risk of going over!", he explained to her.
        She acknowledged him again with a nod, trying to fasten the third hatch with one hand while holding the rigging with the other to keep herself in place.
        He began moving to the wheel, pulling himself along the rope rail on his knees. The tossing of the boat was severe enough now that he didn't dare stand, the low railing would become more of a hazard than a security measure. Water washed across the deck with each passing wave, some spilling down into the cockpit and cabin, the rest receding back into the sea. The rigging was being whipped about, now sending out a searing whine as it cut through the intensifying wind.
        He reached the wheel and began bringing them hard to starboard. She had finished the hatches on that side of the boat and was now sliding over the roof of the cabin to latch the two on the port side that he had not finished. At about half-way through the turn they were again hit by a large one and as they rolled over the top of it the odd angle caused the boat to tip and sway in a motion that felt as if it were being pulled in every direction at once. He lost his footing and fell, holding the wheel but pulling it port as he went down. He pushed himself up hurriedly, looking to see that she was alright. He saw her roll across the cabin roof as they tipped the wave, getting thrown back in her original direction once they started rolling down the backside. She was holding on using only the halyard line, her entire body spinning as she was tossed about the deck.
        He could feel panic peeking around the corner of his mind. He needed to go to her, to rescue her before the situation became truly frightening, but he also needed to get them perpendicular to the waves, or else they stood no chance at all. He may have frozen for a split second, pinned like a deer in headlights, he wasn't sure. Before his mind decided what action to take, a second large wave hit them, ripping his hands from the wheel, throwing him to the floor of the cockpit, his ribs cracking against the seating.
        He saw her. She was on the deck when the water came over them. As it took him down he saw it wash over her as well. He bolted up, the pain tearing through his side like an electric current. As the water shed from the deck he could see that it was empty. She was gone.
        All sense of reality disintegrated as shock detonated at every nerve ending in his entire body. He dove toward the port railing.
        "RAIN!", he screamed to her, trying desperately to see her amongst the rising and falling waves.
        "RAAAAIIIINNNN!", he cried out again, so forcefully he felt his eyes bulge.
        She was nowhere, just black seas, textured by wind foam and pocked by infinite sheets of rain.
        "RAIN!", again he shouted to the sea.
        A glimpse. White in the water for a second, then nothing as it disappeared behind a wave. He tried to half-way stand, desperate for another look to verify what his mind was clinging to.
        Again. White in the water, two waves from the port side of the boat. She was waving her arms as she rolled with the sea, being pulled away from the bow.
        "RAIN!", he yelled to her, trying to let her know he had seen her, that he was coming.
        His first instinct was to dive, to part the sea with his body and rush to her, wrap her up and carry her back to the safety of the boat. He had to consciously fight the urge, restrain himself and think clearly. The need to get to her was ineffable, the core reaction so ingrained that it took every ounce of his focus to decide on the course of action rather than just leaping blindly.
        He had to get closer to the bow, where he could throw her a life preserver. He grabbed the buoyant ring from the rear of the cockpit and began scuttling up the port side of the boat. She would appear and disappear, sometimes above the waves, other times only her arms protruded from the water. He was almost to her, almost to a point where he thought he could get a good throw off when he was thrown against the railing once more.
        The rope caught him at the waist, cutting into him as the boat tilted violently. The lean was so deep that his upper body became completely submerged. He grabbed the rail with one hand and held the preserver with the other, waiting for the reaction to come, for the boat to right itself, wondering briefly during the eternity of the moment if it would.
        He felt motionless, weightless, limitless, as if he were floating in space. Under the water the impact of sensory overload vanished instantly as if someone had simply turned off the world. He could hear the roar of the rain the surface, but it was now muffled to a steady, soothing, dull hum. The warm water cradled him, completely erasing the violence of the berating wind and biting rain. In the immersion he found peace.
        Before he could become acclimated to the calm beneath the surface he felt the railing press against him again, forcing him out of the solitude, hurling him back into the violent world. The acceleration was incredible as the boat righted itself, ripping him from the water. He tried to spot her as he rose but the world spun past him in a blur as though he were on a carnival ride. The boat crested the wave just as the mast went vertical. That was the moment all hope was lost.
        The craft over-corrected as it rolled down the back side of the wave, going one hundred and eighty degrees until the mast crashed to the surface. When it hit, the force of deceleration ripped his grip from the rail and he was tossed into the sea, losing his hold on the preserver. The momentum of the roll kept the boat going. It capsized and the open cabin began to flood.
        He found himself beneath the water again, disoriented from the collision with the surface. Salt water filled his sinuses with its choking burn, scouring all the way down his throat. He thrust himself up and quickly breached, immediately trying to get his bearings. He was only a few feet from the boat, but it was now between the two of them. He couldn't see her, couldn't be sure exactly where she was or in what direction he had seen her last. He swam toward the inverted hull, clawing at the water, desperately fighting to get a hand on the white fiberglass. The waves pushed him toward the boat, but as they rolled past him they seemed to push the boat from his grasp. He swam for what felt like one hundred yards just to cover fifteen feet in the maelstrom.
        When he reached the hull he tried to pull himself onto it but could find purchase nowhere. The surface was too smooth and featureless, the pummeling of the waves and slick coating of water made it clear that the battle was not worth the time. He had to get around it and had to do it quickly. For all he knew, she was being swept away. If he didn't get to her soon he might never get to her at all.
        He swam beside the inverted hull, using it to pull himself along whenever possible. Getting to the end seemed to take forever, his vision endlessly blurred by the waves crashing into him and the pelting rain. Once he reached the bow he grabbed onto it and searched for the bottom of the pulpit beneath the surface. His feet found it and he was able to stand, raising himself almost a foot higher. He tried desperately to see her again, not sure exactly where she would be now that his orientation had changed. He scanned the rows of waves receding from him for any sign.
        "RAIN!", he called to her again, but had little hope it would do any good. If he couldn't see her, she probably couldn't hear him.
        He tried to climb further onto the arch of the hull, but immediately slipped back down into the water. The abusive waves were incessant, there was no haven where he could collect himself long enough to think clearly. He pulled himself back onto the pulpit, but that was already failing to give him much height out of the water. He held a hand up near his face, blocking the rain, scanning the waves.