The battered ship had taken yet another hit. With each terrible impact I waited anxiously to discover if it had been the fatal blow. One had to wonder how much more of a beating she could take before succumbing to her wounds and the waves. As the sea rose and fell, the ship would momentarily be hidden from view. After each crest I couldn't say if we'd find her still hanging on to the top of that thin line where air meets the water like a fabric blown in the wind, or if she'd be on the way down, sinking to her final resting place on the ocean's bed.