Free Sophie, Dog Overboard : The Incredible True Adventures of the Castaway Dog by Emma Pearse Page B

Sophie needed to get used to making her way around the rocking boat.
    Bridget escorted the frisky pup along the side of the boat, talking her through it as she, herself, hung on tothe rail and watched Sophie trot obediently and gingerly behind her. Bridget took Sophie to the glass door that opened down to the saloon where she would sleep with Bridget later that night, once the faux-leather booth had been folded out into a guest bed. Three steps farther down below deck was the forward cabin—the closest thing
Honey May
got to a master bedroom. Jan and Dave slept there in the V-shaped berth, their legs hitting the walls and criss-crossing up against each other.
    â€œIt wasn’t comfortable,” says Jan. “But you didn’t care when you were out there.”
    â€œIt was a bastard,” says Dave, reminding Jan that they had to step on a milk crate to get into bed. It was above this space, up on the front deck, that Sophie sunbaked later that afternoon alongside Bridget and Jan. The Griffith women sat around in wide-brimmed hats, Bridget in a bikini, reading novels and doing crosswords, while Dave flipped through newspapers and looked over his map books, always learning about the marine area that was so much more accessible to him now that they had
Honey May.
    Later, Dave put steaks and sausages on the barbecue and Jan opened a bottle of wine she’d brought from her fridge at home. But this wasn’t another big night. The mood was mellow, and so was Sophie, even in her enthusiasm. She had already sniffed around the boat a bit with Bridget and, having acquainted herself with the space, stuck pretty close to the family. As people moved in and out of the kitchen, preparing the meal, she sat onthe top step but didn’t go farther inside: her paws would slip and slide on the polished floors.
    Sophie was very lively and seemed to be invigorated by the salt air. But she didn’t seem to be in any way perturbed by being somewhere so unfamiliar. As they ate, Bridget and Jan on their deck chairs and Dave leaning up against the railing on the front deck, Sophie sat between them, looking back and forth and waiting for what she knew would come: meat scraps and maybe a potato skin or two.
    When it came to bedtime, not long after the sun went down, Sophie had to be coaxed down to the cabin. In theory she was sleeping on the floor alongside Bridget, who of course invited her up to share the bed for the night.
    The next morning, as coffee brewed, the family got ready to jump off the back of
Honey May
for a swim. The moment Sophie realized what was happening, as first Dave, then Bridget plunged into the water, she started barking wildly, overexcited at the realization that her turn must be coming next. Jan needed to give her a little bit of gentle encouragement to take the plunge, but Bridget was treading water below and calling to her. She jumped. And she was ecstatic. She swam around and around in circles making her way towards Bridget and then Dave, her head stretched above the waves, mouth firmly shut to avoid taking in water.
    The sun was up over Scawfell, its palm trees and boulders were starting to sparkle and the tips of thereefing coral were still visible as the tide was coming in. The risk of rips and swelling tides, as well as stinging and even lethal creatures, was far higher here than when Sophie ran into the waves off the beaches off Mackay, but the Griffiths weren’t too concerned: the water in the bay was so clear and crisp and they swam in it all the time. It felt very safe. And Sophie was having the time of her life paddling about.
    â€œSophie!” Bridget yelled out to her and Sophie would paddle over to her, head stretched far out of the water, mouth scrunched up in zeal to get where she wanted to go. Bridget’s tongue was practically hanging out like a dog’s as she giggled and splashed Sophie.
    â€œYou lunatics,” Jan teased as she floated about on her back.
    Sophie