From the moment we hoisted the sail and pulled out of the comfort and beauty of the Charlottetown Yacht Club, I knew it was going to be a glorious day. It was a gorgeous picturesque afternoon, like the kind you would see in a tourism PEI advertisement. I could feel the intense rays of sunlight beating down on me, creating a sizzling sensation on my neck, like barbecuing steaks. It was a very warm July day, almost unbearably warm if not for the recurring gusts of wind that provided a much needed relief from the heat. Our boat was sailing at a brisk pace, tilted at a slight angle and slicing through the waves as easily as a knife slices through butter. It was the type of day that one relishes, dreams about and will always remember. In other words, a perfect day.

The four person crew of the SS Le Migot was made up of my sister, my brother, my uncle and myself. With the exception of my uncle, we were inexperienced sailors, but very eager learners. We embarked on our voyage with a cooler full of ice cold drinks, fresh watermelon and no final destination in mind. At first, we sailed mindlessly around the harbour, practicing different sailing maneuvers, learning how to tie basic nautical knots and tacking so frequently I was becoming dizzy. After a half hour of practice, I suggested that we head over to Holland Cove. This suggestion was met with widespread agreement, so we began our expedition.

After roughly an hour and a half of relaxed sailing, we finally reached our destination. As soon as the anchor was dropped, I sat back and admired the beauty of the location. Holland Cove is a piece of paradise located two kilometres from the Charlottetown waterfront. It is a quiet, isolated area that only the locals know about, therefore ensuring its protection from noisy tourists. The sound of waves crashing into rocks was hypnotic, inviting me to fall asleep. The iconic smell of dried up seaweed that islanders have grown accustomed to, filled the air. The red cliffs of the cove were a stunning contrast to the fields of green that surrounded it. The cliffs were very rough and hollow, due to the thousands of years of erosion they had to endure. Suddenly, the wind died and the water became remarkably calm and clear. The water was so still, that I could easily see the shells of clams and mussels that littered the ocean floor, as well as schools of fish rapidly darting around.

Seeing as there was no more wind, the heat was becoming more and more difficult to bear, and the water became our only solution to deal with the wrath of the sun. I was the first to take the plunge, and was instantly met with relieving coolness which combatted the boiling sensation I had felt only moments before. The remainder of the crew jumped in shortly after and we swam to shore. Once the salty taste of the seawater wore off, we continued the fun by skipping stones and having sandcastle competitions.

During all the excitement, no one had realised that the atmosphere had drastically changed. The clear blue skies and bright sunshine that had previously filled the sky, were now replaced with dark violent looking clouds. The visibility grew increasingly worse. When it began to resemble dusk, I suggested that we head back to the safety of the boat. Just as we were about to begin our swim, a monstrous, ear-splitting roar could be heard. This was followed by a quick flash of lightning that illuminated the dark sky.

Suddenly, the realisation that we were swimming in the middle of a lightning stormed dawned on me and I began to panic. As the roars and flashes became more and more frequent, I willed myself to kick harder and swim faster. I began to think about being electrocuted in the water and how fish would feed off of my dead body. Snapping myself out of these negative thoughts, I focused on the ladder of the boat that was only a hundred or so metres away. The rest of my family were already safe, and were encouraging me from the deck. As I cut the distance in half, an enormous, earth shaking crack of thunder erupted from above. To worsen the situation, this was immediately followed by a torrential downpour. Raindrops the sizes of golf balls were falling by the hundreds, crashing into the water and reducing my visibility to the bare minimum. I felt like I was crossing no man’s land, with both sides firing their assault rifles overhead. With one last deep breath, I dove underwater and swam the last fifteen metres as fast as I could.

Once reunited with my crew, we took shelter in the little cabin below the deck of the boat, and discussed our options. We attempted to wait out the storm with no success. The loud, constant thumping of rain hitting the side of the boat was beginning to drive us crazy. Realising that it was impossible to sail in these conditions, we decided that motoring home was the safest course of action. My uncle bravely ventured back out into the heart of the storm to fire up the engine, as I waited impatiently with my brother and sister. After a dozen or so minutes, we were still stranded at sea. I decided to go back out on deck to see what was the matter. Through my rain induced blurry vision, I could make out my uncle struggling with the motor. After unleashing a bombardment of choice words, he explained that water had gotten into the engine, which was proving to be problematic. Although he assured me that he would be able to fix it, I could see the panic that filled his eyes.

I returned to the cabin and lied to my brother and sister, telling them that we would get going any minute now. Time after time my uncle tried to get the motor working. Each attempt had the same result: the engine would let out a faint whimper and die again. We were now very worried. This anxiety grew with each unsuccessful attempt. The attitude of the crew had gone from joyful to somber in a matter of minutes. The possibility of being stranded at sea for the night struck fear into each one of us.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the engine caught and roared to life. The entire crew let out a collective sigh of relief. I quickly pulled up the anchor and we were off! The storm became more and more tame the closer we came to the harbour. As we pulled back into the yacht club, I observed the damage inflicted by the storm. Multiple sails were torn up and filled with holes. Wood that had once been part of the dock was now floating around, bobbing up and down. Workers were desperately trying to rescue a tiny sailboat that had capsized during the storm. We docked the boat and left hastily, realizing just how lucky we had been.