The first part of our crossing of the scintillating waters of the ocean was incredibly enjoyable. The weather was unusually clear, and the ivory cliffs that began to rise up from the beaches to the West at our backs made a striking display from sea level. Andy had calmed down once we'd found our boat safe and sound, and he seemed to radiate easy confidence and pride in his accomplishment as he paddled us steadily across the strait. Damica had even begun to doze off, surely tired from the early morning journey along the beach and soothed by the rocking motion the waves bestowed upon the boat.

When we were perhaps some 10 kilometers from the shore we had left, with at least twice that ahead of us, the sky began to abruptly darken as the wind picked up. Andy and I exchanged a worried glance, and he doubled his efforts to get us across all the faster.

The air began to smell of ozone as the sky grew almost devoid of light, so thickly clogged was it with menacing-looking clouds. Damica shook herself awake as the firmament opened up with a sudden glut of rain. Scarce minutes after the deluge began, lightning split the blackened sky, almost instantly followed by the resonant boom of thunder.

Andy grit his teeth and began to row incredibly fast, clearly strained by the exertion. None of us wanted to state the obvious out loud. If we did not make it to the opposite beach quickly, the boat could sink, be it from taking on water or as a casualty of the increasingly larger waves. It was hard to see clearly, but we were not more than half way to the next shore.

Our fears were only worsened when the waves grew still further, making it almost impossible for Andy to use the oars. Shortly he was forced to pull them from the water to avoid being lost entirely. He and I both resorted to ineffectually trying to empty the slowly accumulating water from the boat with our hands. Damica shifted from foot to foot as she stood at the highest point on the floor of the craft, surely freezing cold in several centimeters of water.

It was when the rain grew so thick that I couldn't tell which direction we were facing, and as the breakers grew so massive in size that the boat was pitched about like a piece of kindling, that I realized what was happening. My heart sank.

Damica had jumped into my lap, and I held fast to her as I wrapped my tail firmly around one of the seating planks of the boat. "Andy!" He leaned forward as best as he could while still clinging to both the side of the boat and the oars. "This isn't normal!"

He looked exasperated, shaking water from his eyes and glancing at the boat's rising water level anxiously, "What?!?"

A chilling wave sloshed over the boat's edge, soaking all three of us. I had to shout over the storm around us, "It's my father!" Andy didn't seem to comprehend. "It's Poseidon!"

Even in the poor light, drenched with water from both the sky and the sea, I saw all remaining color drain from Andy's face. His reply filled me with despair. "I can't swim!"