A Clash With Death: A True Story By Bob Potts We were motoring in from Smith Cove. It was sunny and the waves were calm in Castine. It seemed like nothing could go wrong. I should have known. It was too perfect. We approached the dock so I moved to the front of the boat and leapt to the dock. I thought I had it; but I had forgotten to grab the bowline so I leapt back onboard and grabbed it. I didn’t notice that the boat was drifting away from the dock so I leapt to the dock again, but hit cold, hard water. Dad put the dinghy in gear to come up alongside me, but he forgot one thing, the propellor. It’d slice my legs off. “Dad! Stop the d*mn boat!!!!!!” I yelled. My dad didn’t hear me. Somehow, though, he managed to stop the boat next to me and after much effort we were ashore. Years Later: Looking back on that now I don’t understand why I didn’t trust my dad. We have a special bond on the water. We’d spend weekends sailing together, going in races we knew we couldn’t win, but the second I hit the water all of that disintegrated. The only thing I thought about was getting out alive. If he’d stayed back I could’ve climbed up onto the dock, but he didn’t consider the possibility of letting me get out. He had to do it himself. I’ve begun to understand why he came for me, but I have no idea why I was afraid. I’ve always trusted my dad, but something happened in that water I didn’t expect. I was taken over by a will to survive. I still jump from boat to dock all the time. It wouldn’t surprise me if I went in again, but I don’t think I’d be afraid. I spoke with my dad and he understood I could’ve gotten out myself, so he’ll give me space. Nothing will deter me from danger, not even death itself. Fin