What Are the Odds?
By Terry L. Gardner
Rated: K (G)
Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are owned by
Summary: At Amanda’s insistence, Sarek learns how to swim in the pool at
her apartment, then in the ocean. Little did he know that what Amanda taught
him would save a life.
~ooOoo~
"Congratulations, Sarek, you are an excellent swimmer. I am
confident that you can pass and be certified in the swimming and life saving
program at the YMCA," said Amanda. "There are certain things you need
to learn at the beach before we begin your swimming lessons in the ocean.
Swimming in the ocean is very different from swimming in a swimming pool."
"You need to learn to recognize and understand rip currents in the
ocean and how to escape a rip current if you get caught in one. Your next
lesson will be at Baker's Beach. It is probably
"I prefer to meet you here."
"Very well. We
will meet here at the usual time."
~ooOoo~
Sarek parked his flitter in the parking lot of Baker’s Beach. He got
out, walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for Amanda. They
grabbed their towels and cooler out of the back storage compartment and headed
for the sand. They found a good place to settle and laid their towels and the
cooler down on the sand.
"Look at the ocean from the beach," began Amanda. "The higher your perspective, the better. Relax your
gaze so that you are seeing the whole stretch of ocean. Notice that all the
water moving in swells toward the beach, pushes against the beach, and then
must find a way back out. When it does, it forms into dark, choppy rivers
within the ocean, known as rip currents. The brown color is from the sand
pulled away from the beach; the foaminess and choppiness are from the current's
confrontation with the incoming swell."
"Note the shape of these areas. Usually they are wider at the
beach, the mouth of the rip current, and then stretch straight out or at a
slight angle into the ocean. The far end of the rip current usually forms a
large roundish shape and is known as the head of the
rip current. Avoid these rip currents when swimming, because they have the
potential to sweep you out far from the beach. You will usually find a rip
current running alongside any solid formation stretching into the ocean from
the beach, such as a pier, a jetty or a rock formation."
"I understand."
"Recognizing where rip currents are, before you enter the water, is
always a good idea."
"How do I recognize that I am in a rip current?"
"When the water around you is foamy and brownish and you're slowly
getting pulled away from the beach. Look to the beach and determine which
direction the current is flowing by comparing where you entered the water to
where you are now. Check both sides of you to determine which direction is
closer to clean and unfoamy water."
"I see. How do I escape the rip current?"
"By swimming parallel to the shore in the same direction the
current is flowing. Swim toward the shore when you are out of the rip current.
Do not attempt to swim against the pull of the rip current and do not panic.
There is no such thing as an undertow. This is a common ocean myth. What pulls
people under is panic clouding their judgment and exhausting their oxygen
supply."
"That sounds logical. I will be very careful to remember and follow
your instructions."
~ooOoo~
It had been a long week of negotiations at the Tellerite
Embassy, next to the San Francisco Yacht Club. All Sarek wanted on that summer
day was to get home to Amanda and end meal.
Walking briskly across the marina boardwalk shortly after
"Some guy in a white flitter wagon just hit your flitter and
another flitter in the parking lot," the doorman said. "I managed to
get his license number for you."
Sarek surveyed the damage: a few scratches on his rear bumper. Very minor damage. Even so, he would have to report it.
Amanda and end meal would have to wait.
He pulled out his personal communicator and was about to use it when a
patron of the yacht club came running up to the doorman and exclaimed,
"Hey, Barry! A lady from one of the high-rises called the bar and said she
saw a flitter go into the water. I ran out and looked in the pond out front,
but I didn’t see anything. I wonder what she was talking about?"
Sarek and Barry ran, then stood on the dock and stared out at the
Harbor. The water was calm. Then Sarek saw a cooler bobbing on the waves, and
tapes and scraps of paper where scattered everywhere. But when he noticed
bubbles, he stooped down to take a closer look and caught a glimpse of
something white below the surface.
James McCarthy, a sixty-six-year-old lawyer and his granddaughter, Ellen
McIan, fifteen, had been trying to get out of a tight
parking spot in the yacht club’s small lot when grandpa stepped on the
accelerator instead of the brake. The flitter bounced off Sarek’s flitter and a
blue flitter sedan, then plunged backward off the
pier.
Ellen called the Harbor Emergency Service line on the flitter’s comm unit. "I’m in the San Francisco Yacht Club and
we’re sinking in the flitter, and I can’t open the doors!" said the
frantic teen. "The water is coming in and I don’t want to drown! HURRY!"
"Okay," answered the emergency dispatcher, "we’re sending
Paramedics and the Harbor Patrol. Can you open the window? Hello? Hello?"
Ellen didn’t answer. The water was now up to her waist, and the weight
of the engine was pulling the wagon to the bottom, nose-first.
It was sinking rapidly as the back storage compartment popped open and
the water poured in. With the doors and windows sealed shut by the weight of
the water, escape seemed hopeless.
"Quick!" said grandpa. "Climb into the back seat! There’s
more air there!"
On the pier, Sarek pulled off his boots, threw off his robe and peeled
of his tunic. "Wait here," he told the elderly doorman. "If there’s anybody down there, I’ll need
your help pulling them out of the water."
Taking a deep breath, Sarek jumped into the harbor and swam ten feet
down to the bottom. Although the water was the temperature of bath water, under
the surface, it was dark. It was difficult for Sarek to see anything.
Suddenly, his arm brushed against cold metal – a flitter door. He grabbed
the latch and yanked hard, but it wouldn’t open. He felt around and found the
other three doors, but none would budge. Sarek was running out of breath, so he
quickly surfaced, then plunged down again.
Inside the flitter, Ellen pressed her face against the roof – the last
spot where there was any air. Her grandfather was floating next to her,
unresponsive in the semi-darkness. She took another deep breath, but this time
inhaled only water.
‘This is it,’ she thought, coughing and gasping. She pursed her lips
tightly together to keep the water out. ‘I’m not going to make it.’
Three times, Sarek came up to get air, then
swam down to try to open a door. ‘I’ve got to get in here,’ he thought, pulling
on the driver’s side door with all the Vulcan strength that he had and this
time he felt it give just a little.
Inch by inch, the door opened. Sarek swam into the flitter and stretched
his six-foot-two frame across the front seat. He felt around. Nothing. Next he swept his arms toward the back seat. Something
brushed against his hand. Hair! ‘Whoever you are, you are coming up with me.’
Seconds later, Sarek surfaced with Ellen. By now, a crowd had gathered
on the pier. Barry and another yachtsman came forward to help pull the
unconscious girl from the water.
Exhausted, Sarek hoisted himself up onto the pier and was about to start
CPR when a woman rushed over. "I’m a nurse," said Maria Chapel.
"Let me work on her."
Sarek suddenly realized there must be another person inside the flitter
wagon – the man Barry had seen hit his flitter. He dove down again but couldn’t
find anybody inside the flitter wagon.
As he came up to catch his breath, emergency workers arrived. They
discovered McCarthy in the back seat, but it was too late. He died at the
hospital.
"If Sarek hadn’t stepped up, it’s very unlikely that Ellen would
have lived," said Captain Tenison of the San
Francisco Harbor Patrol. "Another two minutes and she wouldn’t have made
it."
Ellen, a Girl Scout who hopes one day to become a lawyer like her
granddad, said, "I’ll be forever grateful to the handsome Vulcan who saved
my life. I was so scared. I’m amazed that a Vulcan knows how to swim and at
Sarek’s strength and his determination to never give up."
Sarek answered, "My wife insisted on teaching me to swim in the
ocean. She convinced me that it was the logical thing to do and she was right.
It did enable me to rescue you. I would like to think that somebody would do
the same for me."
Barry responded, "I believe that you were meant to be here at the
yacht club at this moment, on this day. All you were doing was heading home to
your wife and dinner. What are the odds?"
Sarek just raised his left eyebrow and wrapped himself in the thermal
blanket given to him by a paramedic.