From fear of death to back on the road...

I text my friend last night around 7:30, "How's it going?" "Just got back. Long day." "Can you get me off this boat in the morning? I've been out of water all day." "Wanna go now? I'm gonna be in a hurry in the morning." "Yeah." "K." My gear is packed. I'm gonna take this chance to hit shore, find a spot to camp, and bail in the morning. Gear on deck. Trash on deck. Make sure I've got towels where I have a few leaks. Make sure my charge controller is set to turn my anchor light on at sunset and off at sunrise. Make sure it's covered and can't get wet.

Nothing. It's a five minute ride from his boat to mine. An hour goes by. I shoot another text, "What's up?" Nothing. A half hour later I call. Get sent to voicemail. A text, "I'll call you back." 'He's probably dealing with family stuff.'

Another hour goes by. I send another text, "I hate to bug you but..." Nothing. Twenty minutes later, "Everything alright over there?" Nothing. Fourty five minutes later, "What's going on?" Nothing.

Eventually I decide 'Fuck this. I'm grabbing my gear and going back inside. At least I'll be comfortable.' I'm soaked from dew. My gear is soaked. I go down below and setup my bed. Get comfy. Kick a movie on. I'm thinking it's pretty rude of him not to have the courtesy to text me and let me know what's up, much less call me back like he said he would. I've been staring at his boat for a few hours now. Nothing seems amiss. He's blown me off before, but there's always a text explaining what's going on. In the back of my mind I hope nothing really bad has happened to him. But he's a big boy. He's ex-navy. There's people he can call because he's from here. I hate to say it, but I'm grinding on it a bit.

There's nothing like telling someone in the morning you're out of water, having no way to shore, having been told they'll come get you this evening, making contact, being offered a ride, and then getting blown off, to put you in a bad frame of mind. I'm dehydrated. Not in great shape.

I scroll reddit to break my mind off things, but dehydration and the very real fear that you might not make it back to shore is not mentally a place you want to be. It's real hard to ignore that when you're in survival mode. I eventually fall asleep.

I'm awake with the sun. I repack my gear just in case he shows up unannounced. Wait until I know he's up and had coffee. Text, "I really hope you can get me off this boat this morning." Nothing. I can see he saw my text. I give him half an hour. 'Maybe he's getting ready.' Another text, our usual greeting, "Hey." He sees that one too. Nothing. 'Why the fuck isn't he answering?' Another half hour. Another text, "I don't understand what I did to make you ignore me." He sees it. Still nothing. 'This is getting out of line." Another half hour. Text, "I can see you reading these messages. Talk to me man." He sees it. Nothing. 'Alright. I've done nothing wrong. I always help him when he needs it. I thought we were friends. WTF!!! This is pissing me off now. Am I gonna have to start breaking out flares and waving for help to get off this boat?'

I'm dehydrated as fuck at this point. I'm getting mad as hell. I definitely don't deserve this kind of disrespect. At least text me and tell me to go fuck myself. But no communication? You're playing little kid games with my life at this point. I do not appreciate it. At all.

The reason we help everyone out here on the water, wether we like them or not is because people can die out here. It just doesn't happen any other way. You always help. Always. No matter what it takes, or what it costs you. And you only leave when you're sure this other person's in good shape, and you know they're gonna stay that way.

You don't offer help and then go complete silence on someone. Especially when that person has been good to you. I've done a lot for him that would have cost him thousands of dollars. For nothing. Because he is my friend. I've given him brand new anchor ropes for storms that I shouldn't have given up. I've spent days wiring in his electrical system... You get the picture. He's helped me a lot too. It's always been mutually beneficial in the end.

Another text, "One ride to the dock. I'll never ask you for help again." Nothing. He doesn't even look at it. 'That's a whole other level. Fuck me?! Dude.' I wait a while. 'I know I've done nothing wrong. Why is he treating me like this? We were good just last night. And when we went to go look for my dinghy. Yesterday morning. I've covered propane for a bunch more rides than he's given me. We used my tank to go look for the dink. (Professional boater's term for dinghy.) I don't understand. Fuck it. Once this fog clears I'll start firing off flares every time a boat goes by and try to catch a ride to the dock. I have to hit shore today. This is getting dire.'

Final text, "I'll pay you to get me off this boat." I don't have much money. Maybe $20. At this point he can have it if he'll get me off this boat. I'm desperate. Whatever it takes. I have to get some water. And I'm supposed to be on my way to dude's house for work today.

I go up on deck to see if he's gonna head for shore. It's near the time he's been leaving his boat lately. 'Might as well fire up a smoke. I've got a backup plan. I need to calm myself, and proceed in an orderly fashion. One thing at a time. All is not lost yet.' 'Nothing is fucked here dude.'-Walter Socheck. That makes me almost smile. Smoke lit. Sitting on the bow. 'nocs in hand...

My phone rings. 'Please be him... It is!' "Hello?" " Hey man. I've been really unable to deal with anyone for a minute. I got way too much shit going on. It's all going really wrong..." He proceeds to give me the rundown. I know pretty much all of it. And he's right. The shit he's going through right now is some of the worst shit in life anyone can deal with. I'm not gonna elaborate because that's his business. But I don't know how he hasn't snapped and started killing people yet. For real.

We talk. I commiserate as best I can. I really don't know what to say to most of it. He needs an ear he can trust. I'm happy to let him get it out. He's beyond miserable and barely holding it together. I'd much rather he vent than do something stupid.

He's standing in his dink the whole time we're talking. "Let me get this motor started and I'll come get you" "Cool. Thanks brother."

He comes over. I drop my stuff in his dink. We head for the dock. Tie off. Gear out. Trash out. I throw it all away, mine and his. He just takes off walking. He's in his own world. No problem. I got shit to do myself.

Gas station. Coffee. Gallon of water. Cheap pack of smokes. Bus stop. I'm gonna take the bus up to a spot near the 95. That will put me in a good spot to hitchhike. The bus should be here in about twenty minutes. This coffee is shit, but I've got it loaded with sugar and hazelnut creamer. It's pretty much liquid candy. And I'm happy to have it. Bus time comes and goes. No bus.

I burn some of my very limited data to see where the bus is. Forty five more minutes. A guy shows up, asks about the bus. I give him the news. 'I need a beer. You want one?' Me, 'Nah, I'm good bro. Thanks.' He leaves and comes back. We shoot the shit until the bus comes. Get on. I head to the back. Drop my gear.

And immediately realize I have to pee. Bad! It's gonna be a forty-five minute bus ride. I have to catch another bus five minutes after this one stops. I find a stop closer than where the buses meet at a gas station. Close enough I can walk to catch the second bus.

I'm dying! This is getting to be beyond an emergency. I suck it up, but I'm trying to think of how to piss on this bus somehow. My nerves being fried from thinking I was stuck on that boat isn't helping. It's bad.

Finally hit the stop at the gas station. Of course I've got to cross two sides of the intersection. Haul ass into gas station with full gear. Into bathroom. 'Sweet Jesus!!!' All good.

Back out. Down the road to bus stop on foot. Wait at the bus stop at the courthouse for forty-five minutes. Catch next bus.

Wawa for the first meal of the day. I'm starving. It's 2:00 at this point. Eat. Chill. Bathroom. Starting to feel a little like my usual self. Out to onramp. It's a good one. Plenty of room to pull over. Gear down. Thumb out.

An hour and a half goes by. I wave at several cops as they get on the interstate. They don't stop. Just the way I like it. Some smiles. A couple 'little ways' hand gestures. A few friendly honks. I'm pretty worn but I've got my best hitchhiking smile on. Everybody's smiling back at me. And then a cop stops.

I'm friendly. He's friendly. He explains about controlled access highways. I know that where I'm standing that does not apply, but I don't have the energy to get into a debate about it.

Usually I would start to leave, wait until he's gone and go back to the same spot and continue. He was really trying to be helpful. He suggests walking a couple miles to the coast where I can walk down the highway if I want to. I'm in no shape to be anything but nice. I look for a bus. It's after five. I'm not walking a couple miles at this point. Find a bus. Will be there soon.

Gear up. I walk as fast as I can to get to the bus stop a few minutes early. Gear down. Burn some more precious data to check out where I'm going. Good camp spot. No food anywhere near there. I'm gonna get hungry soon.

I decide I can catch the bus in the morning. There's a bunch of food places here I can't afford, but there's a Seven-Eleven across the street I can blow some ebt at. And a nicely treed field close by to pop my tent up in. Gear up. Off to field. Tent setup. Me inside. Gear inside. Daily update. 'What a day...'

I hope they have pizza...