As the wind picked up, the creaking of the very frame of the ship was deafening. They had not known weather like this since they left Constantinople.

For the crew of the Alamio, this was a short leg across the Adriatic to Venice, their home port. For Julio, it was one of the longest trips he could imagine. For he was going home, at last, after two years at sea.

Their trip had taken them to the orient and back, and the ship was full of exquisite silks and other eastern delights, from which they would all profit handsomely, but the journey had been a challenge.

Julio knew that his return would be anticipated excitedly by his family and even more he hoped, by his beautiful bride, from whom his absence after so short a time after their marriage had been emotionally draining. But, as she knew also, the opportunity had been a great one.

Yet they still had to make it home and the squall was deepening. He knew that the weather could be tricky at this time of year and, despite it being relatively close to land most of the time, he was worried about the unpredictability of what they might have to experience, in the maelstrom that was unfolding.

Alamio would see them through, he kept telling himself. She had seen them this far; she would see them home.

For Julio, his ship was as close as he could get himself to family whilst away. He knew her every groan; each nuance of her movement was a part of him and yet, even so, there was a tiny level of concern within him as the rolling clouds formed up ahead.

No boat could be safe all of the time. There were monsters in the weather out there in the deeps outside the Mediterranean seas, but in the shallows of the Adriatic, there was an unpredictability that he knew was as dangerous.

Now, the men were getting restless too, for they knew there was trouble ahead. They would deal with it and with Alamio to protect them, they would find safe passage.

He believed.

***

Two hours later and the trouble had deepened.

The swells were now over 40 feet high and they were having trouble running them with the wind. They had been forced to go further south than he intended, but that was by-the-by now, for simply surviving would be the challenge this trip.

So close to home. So many leagues travelled already and now this close. But still, Julio remained confident in the boat he loved.

Suddenly, there was a louder crack amongst the many creaks. This time, it was a wave on the starboard railings, where one had sheared straight off and disappeared into the dark night. That was not a problem, but it did suggest that the old girl was starting to struggle, and that was a worry.

Julio realised that in fact, they were not that far from shore and, depending on exactly where they were, there might be a safe harbour that could accommodate them in these awful conditions.

He stared at the horizon for any signs of lights, signifying safety and saw none. At least at first.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something. But then it was gone and he cursed himself for getting his own hopes up.

Then he saw it once more. Just on the horizon, a small twinkle of hope that raised his spirits.

He shouted orders to his crew to make their way in that direction, despite the wind being wrong, they must make shore and hope for the best.

Thanks to the Lord above, it was a clear night and, despite the wind and the rain, he had been able to make out a shoreline.

Slowly, they crawled, crab-like back and forth towards their goal. And it was getting brighter; closer so that they soon could all see their salvation, over on the starboard bow.

The wind was relentless in those hours as they made the slow progress they needed to save themselves. Above all, Alamio was at her brilliant best. Making headway against all odds

Taking them homewards at least, even if it were not home.

***

As they make the final few leagues towards the shore, the wind began to abate a little, and by the time they approached the port, it was as if there had been no storm at all.

No fears; no upsets; no challenges to overcome, save ensuring that the anchorage was a safe one for them in this port they knew of, but did not know too well.

The men secured as much as they could and checked the damage. Then they were off into the port to rest and recover for a while. They were careful to securely hide the contents of their fabulously valuable cargo.

For Julio, however, there was a job that he had to do before he took leisure. He had to thank his ship for getting them to safety.

She was his home, refuge and a part of him. A comfort for all the time he was away from home and he needed the moment to be grateful to her. So he told her openly.

“Thank you, my brave ship, for getting us to safety. Without you and your strength, we would not be here this night. Alamio, you have done it again for me; for us and I love you for it. Thank you and rest well.”

With that, Julio swung his leg over the rails and got on the boat to take him to shore. As he made his way across the small harbour, he looked back with a smile and nodded, just once, to his ship.

Safe at last.