storm at sea - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Never have I wished so much for the land, to feel the sweet brown soils of home. For on this sea I feel the rage within, as if the ocean is countless tears ready to pound at the feet of man, to teach he who has wanted yet not nurtured as he should. It is a gale that screams under dark and serious clouds. Yet the boat sails over these watery fists, perhaps with the intention of causing enough bruising for the sailors to remember her anger, enough for them to start a sweet serenade of sorrow and a promise of better care.
The gulls are tossed paper in a storm, flashes of white in the grey, tumbling as they struggle against the gale. Beneath them the sea rises as great mountains, anger in the form of water, turbulent and unforgiving.
On this sea the sailors tried to prepare for sudden, violent storms, but they knew it was impossible. The worst happened tonight; with no warning, total darkness prevailed as clouds thickened and the sky was stricken, blotting out the moonlight and stars. The wind arose to push the still waters to choppy, which morphed into mountains of angry waves. The four veteran sailors struggled to get the sails down, and to tie them off. They slipped on the rain soaked deck. When the others heard and saw how frightened the sailors were, they panicked. The wind slammed the rain into their faces like tiny stones and pushed their hoods back. The ship pressed, first up waves at forty-five degrees, and then crashed down jarring their bones. At one point the waves spun the vessel sideways. They held tightly onto the mast, onto ropes, onto anything. It was difficult to hang on. A bolt of lightning struck near. “Call the Master,” someone shouted. They woke Him up. “Don’t you care that we are going to die?” A moment later, the Master walked out into the storm. He raised His right hand, “Peace, be quiet.” Moonlight, calm sea, stars and sanity returned.
The waves grew so large that the vessel was dwarfed, riding up and down the mighty swelling sea like a child's toy. Inside the ship there was no staying still unless the person was anchored in place, for the "floor" was whatever surface gravity flung the sailors upon. In that state they'd have prayed to Poseidon himself if they thought it would do any good. There was no mercy in that November wind, no grace in the waves, only wrath and tempest. The air was thick with a briny mist, the deck awash with salty waves. The morning would see them bobbing on placid water or else several leagues down with the fishes.
The cloud that had gathered since dawn, dark and unyielding, smothered the winter sun. The wind that had pushed against the ship, not playfully but with gathering strength, saw no reason to dwindle. The air became thick with salt, carried by a gale that could only sing a single note. It was a sea storm promising nothing but hardship and tale of recovery for anyone that made it out with their skin.
As the universe was once a single point, so is my soul in this stormy sea. As the waves rock the ship almost to tipping point, everything I am, have been, or ever will be, is concentrated into this tiny string of moments - as if this is the moment in which I am truly born. The wind is strong enough to pick up a man and fling him to the briny waves. Every sense is maxed out, every muscle already working beyond normal capacity and still there is no end in sight. But I know the captain and crew, we will endure. Better storms than this haven't taken us down yet; this is how we discover what we are made of...
Is there any more desolate feeling than the mighty swelling of the ocean beneath ones feet and nothing on the horizon but more of the same? In every direction the grey blue tempest, laced with white, blends into a horizon of the same hue. There is no rescue from land, sea or air and all every ship-mate can do is give until they are spent.
Stormy clouds begin to roll in, blocking the bright sun. It silently looms over the crew in anticipation as they desperately scramble across the teetering deck to their assigned positions. Shadows swallow the last rays of light, and thunder crackles through the air. Rain begins to pour furiously, drowning any sight of certainty. Monstrous waves of contrasting shades slam the ship---
The second mast must have broken during one of the most recent waves and fell upon the slender warrior. His whole body was crushed and his entrails started to find Carlnut’s knees. This time his stomach found something within him and Carlnut was sick into his own hands. His sticky palms made one last attempt to grab hold of any rope and tie the sail down.
There are nights I awake in a cold sweat to recall the sea storms we have suffered, aching for friends lost to the waves. Right now I would give anything to wake up, for this storm to be just a recreation of my synapses, another lesson from my subconscious. But there is no waking up from this nightmare. I can taste the salty air, something that never happens when I dream; I feel the cold bite of the wind and my heart is pumping several times faster than it ought to. Should I see tomorrow, it will be with a new nightmare to recall, if not it will be my face that haunts my comrades' night terrors.
Total darkness prevailed as the dismal clouds overcast the caliginous sky and the wind arose, causing waves to tower over our helpless boat. We were caught in a violent storm. Seagulls soared freely over the sky without a care in the world but we were drowned in an ocean of despair trying to save our lives. As the ship jolted to the side then crashed down jolting our bones, I grabbed on to a part of the boat as I was nearly tossed over the side however I didn't know which part of the boat I held onto because I was thrown around so much that my vision turned blurry. Fear weaved through my stomach, I could not bear the fear anymore so I let go of the boat- plunging down and down all the way to the bottom of the sea. I knew I wouldn't survive. Until....
Disconnecting from the outer world, I blasted the music, reclined and let the pencil guide me on a sheet of paper. Minutes passed by, I didn’t notice how tired I was until I woke up shivering from the cold wind, clutching my drawings. A strong blast of wind snatched one from my grasp and carried out toward the ship deck that pitched and weaved.
Lifting my head up, I saw how, with no warning, total darkness had prevailed, engulfing the late-summer sunshine as the clouds got thicker and thicker. when A bold strike of the lightning enlightened the sky, revealing its silver hues in the moonlight. Little droplets of rain appeared on my flushed cheeks, the pure water infusing with the briny sea-spray. The wind arose with force enough to send tall foam-topped waves - towering over our yacht.
I stood there frozen, statue-like as my skin lost all heat and pallor; watching as the storm raged on...