Some old-fashioned folks like the U.S. Navy refer to such vessels as whale boats, but that too is quite misleading, for it should be obvious that whale boats were supposed to be used for chasing whales, much in the manner that Cay Bankers used to pursue the leviathans off Cape Lookout many years ago. Actually, Tom's boat is a war surplus, 26-foot utility boat built in 1966 by Uniflite, with a history of serving honorably throughout the Pacific, tending to the needs of an unnamed destroyer assigned to the China Sea. To lean back in the snugness of a tight cabin and listen to rain tapping on the deck, the soft sighing of waves sliding by the hull, permits dreaming of any faraway port. On a cold night to feel the warmth of residual engine heat while swinging at anchor, allows for watching a moonrise and awakening stars replacing brightness of a long day. Surrounded by the most basic of elements, you have 180 degrees of sky overhead and another 180 degrees of water beneath, separated by 360 degrees of horizon.
Nothing blocks the view but perhaps a night bird winging overhead or a vagrant cloud.
Last week's column relating the passage of a local waterspout apparently reminded several watermen of similar adventures. A Raleigh reader recalled guests from Germany who took a boat ride on the Pamlico last year. He remembered how the water that morning started out rather calm, but a series of storm fronts began to pass, soon followed by a waterspout, which sent the crew scrambling for shore, seeking safety. As the lightning was illuminating the skies and the waterspout nearing, the German wife was asking them to pose in their flight toward safety so that she could take a photograph of them and the twister. Another twister tale came from tugboat captain Tom Kellum.