Emergency alarm blast

One blast from the emergency alarm.

I jump up from the bed, saying to Jerry, “This is not a drill.”

Maybe the alarm is an accident.

No. There is another blast. I turn on the light.

The light works. How many blasts was that?  I think we are supposed to count.  Six short blasts, one long one means go to the muster station. Oh, God.

I walk to the window and look out. It is still dark night and there is nothing to see, Good sign. I look at my watch and see that it is 6:20 am.

Jerry heads to the bathroom. I walk to the cabin door.  I listen and hear nothing.

Remember your CERT (Community Emergency Response Training.) Don’t burn your hand on a hot door because you might need to use your hand.

I brush the back of my left-hand hand across the door and then the door handle. Cool to the touch. I open the door a crack. No smoke. I step forward a little and see normal light in the corridor and nothing else.

How many blasts was that? I don’t think the last one was long. It must be a fire and not muster stations.

“Jerry, where are the things?” I wave my hands up and down over my torso unable to remember the words life vest.

Jerry says, “The life jackets are under the bed. We have to get dressed.”

I go into the closet and get underwear, socks, and my athletic shoes. I put on my wedding band and watch.

Dress warmly. If we end up in lifeboats, it could get cold and we are halfway across the Atlantic so we could be in the lifeboats for days. Why doesn’t the Captain say something? How bad is this? What am I going to put on?

Then the familiar voice from the bridge comes on. “We had a strong indication that there was a fire in a section of the ship.” He explains that the procedure is to sound the alarm. However, it has turned out to be a false alarm and we should all go back to sleep.

Relief. Joy. No fire. No lifeboats.

Jerry does manage to go back to sleep, but after an hour, I give up and turn on the computer. I am very happy that I am sitting here in the darkness, listening to Jerry’s even breathing, and wishing my son a very happy birthday.