The second gale we passed through on that voyage just about did me in. By then I was a seasoned survivor of what I assumed was the worst the North Atlantic could throw at me.

Wrong.

We had exactly one night of smooth sailing before the second one hit. I knew immediately what was up when the telltale heavy ropes crisscrossed all the ship’s open areas. Lest you think we were all a bunch of nobodies traveling from Genoa to New York, I’d like to set the record straight by informing you that a number of luminaries were aboard our liner. Let’s see, there was the famous Greek actress Irene Pappas, who had starred in Zorba The Greek. She was murdered by her own townfolk. In the movie that is. There was the son of Hedy Lamarr, a famous Austrian beauty who came to Hollywood to make films before World War II. The son was a photographer. He took some shots of us newlyweds and complimented Strong With A Spear on the fine wrinkling of his pale blue work shirt. He should have been complimenting me on my fine ironing which produced those sought-after wrinkles. We still have one of the pictures he took. I have since learned through the magic of television that Hedy was something of a mathematical prodigy and an inventor, having successfully patented and then given to the American government gratis a system of musical note codes used to outfox the radar of German U-boats during said war. She was incredibly beautiful, was Hedy. Also aboard our hapless vessel was one Eubie Blake, at that time around 94, a chain smoker and jazz musician extraordinaire. In fact I helped Mr. Blake and his sister, who was traveling with him, across the heavy ropes on Promenade Deck at the start of our second gale.

A gale is classified by winds of 32 to 63 miles per hour. I suppose a gale could be blowing in the North Atlantic and no one would be able to say for absolutely certain that the winds did not kick up well over 63 MPH. During that second gale it sure seemed as if there was nothing else on earth but wind.

Being a seasoned gale survivor by now, I headed up to First Class at the very start of Gale Redux. By now I was carrying my own supply of little yellow pills. The lounge was a long room that spanned the entire width of the ship with windows facing out on both sides, the better to enjoy the ocean panorama on a clear day.

The sixty-three miles per hour wind had taken that ocean and turned it into a roiling mass of huge waves, each one thirty feet tall – about as tall as a two-story house – as far as I could see in any direction. It was the scariest sight of my life. Our ship, which seemed so big in a calm sea, now seemed like nothing more than a walnut shell being tossed mercilessly. If we were still making forward progress, I couldn’t tell. The groaning and straining against the waves crashing around us from all sides was deafening.

“Isn’t this great?”

Strong With A Spear knew where to find me.

“It’s awful. What’s going to happen?”

“It’s so exciting. I was just up on the bridge with the captain and a huge wave broke right over us and smashed the glass in front of the control panel. We got soaked. The captain lost his hat and the first mate got a big cut over his eye from flying glass. This is great. Well, I gotta go back to the bridge. The captain said I could steer for awhile. You okay?”

“Oh, sure. I’m just fine.”

“Good. Stay here. This is the best place for you. Got your pills?”

“Yes. Got ’em right here.”

“Good.”

He kisses me and is gone. Well, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

* * *

Two months later he calls me at my parents’ house in Connecticut. We’ve had a fight and he has disappeared. With the car. For a day and a night. My parents are not too thrilled. We never should have stayed with them while trying to decide what to do next, life-wise.

“Where are you?” Me, worried and tense.

“At a motel in New Jersey.”

“Why in New Jersey?” Me, cautious, worried and tense.

“Because that’s where I ended up.”

“Well, where does that leave us?” Me, trying hard not to break down.

“Where do you want us to be?”

“Together. Not like this.” Me, trying to be conciliatory.

“I don’t know how I feel.”

“Could we just talk about it together?” Me, trying to get us back together.

“I don’t know what to say. I threw my wedding ring in the toilet.”

Five months after the vows and my marriage was already in the toilet.