The Open Boat by Stephen Crane

To tell you the truth, I’m stumped as to how to review this short story. Having never really been in a situation like the sailors were in—caught in a drama on the high seas—puts me at a loss for words.

From a literary perspective, Stephen Crane’s depiction of the unfolding drama is said to have been based on actual events from his life. As each man clings to the hope that the little lifeboat carrying them through a raging storm might somehow preserve them from perishing—something that seems impossible at times—you can feel that tension throughout the narrative.

But I couldn’t really place myself in the boat with them.

I felt more like an observer watching them battle for life from a distance than a participant in the drama. And I’m glad for it. I wouldn’t want to be in that boat. Watching from the outside, I just couldn’t fully grasp what the men were going through.

Even so, The Open Boat left me reflecting on a few themes that stood out for me personally:

• Survival
• Life and Death
• Fellowship

Survival

Survival is something all of us deal with on a daily basis—though not usually in the life-and-death sense. Most of us don’t face that kind of struggle. But this isn’t true for everyone.

For many, survival takes a different form—a struggle within an economic system that may seem unbalanced at first glance, yet often reflects a harsher natural law: the survival of the fittest. A law that, more often than not, leaves the weak and the disadvantaged behind.

But survival in the face of near-certain death—that is something most of us rarely encounter. And that is one of the great advantages of modern life and cooperative living. I would even go so far as to say that modern humanity is, in many ways, pampered.

Yet it shows us how far cooperation can take us.

But even if we don’t face death daily, its presence is never far away.

Life and Death

I have never been in an open boat in the middle of a stormy ocean. But I do remember lying in a hospital bed, barely a teen, literally fighting for my life.

I was gasping for breath—desperately.

It was a reaction to a food allergy that triggered something. I remember a doctor and a couple of nurses surrounding me, working urgently to restore my breathing. I was only semi-aware. I remember my mother crying. Then I saw our local priest enter—being called in to give me the last rites.

That moment jolted me.

Still semi-conscious, but suddenly aware, I remember saying to myself:

“What the heck? I’m not ready to go yet. I’m not ready to go yet.”

My survival instinct took over. I tried to hold on, though in truth, there wasn’t much I could do. My fate didn’t seem to be in my hands. I was hoping—perhaps even believing—that my will to live would carry me through.

And then I slipped into unconsciousness.

I woke up several hours later—grateful.

I have never taken my life for granted since.

I can’t compare my experience to that of sailors stranded in a stormy ocean, fully conscious and aware of the danger around them. But I imagine that, in those final moments before reaching shore, they must have felt something close to what I felt that day.

Mystics, saints, and sages say there is life on the other side—that there is no real death.

I remember not being afraid. Perhaps because I was young. Perhaps because I didn’t fully understand.

But I wasn’t ready to leave—and so I fought to stay.

And I came out of that experience with a quiet inner calm that has stayed with me ever since. Not perfectly—but most of the time.

I had no grand mystical vision. Yet, for some reason, I find myself believing that the sages are right.

Fellowship

In times of crisis, people band together. They cooperate and somehow push through the dangers and trials they face.

But we don’t have to be in the middle of a storm at sea to experience that kind of fellowship.

Reflecting on my own experience, I realize that I, too, was surrounded by one—family, doctors, nurses, and well-wishers—all working together to restore my breathing and help me hold on to that thread.

We rarely make it alone.

The fellowship of the human race, I believe, is still in its early stages—despite the storms of our time.

We sense it, but we are afraid of the storms.

Yet, like all storms, this too shall pass.

I believe this because nature did not give rise to us only to watch us perish. The storms are part of the deal—but so is our ability to endure them.

And it depends on those of us who are aware, to hold steady—like the men in The Open Boat—working together, trusting in providence, in faith, and in each other.

That we will make it through the storms…on this little boat we call Planet Earth, drifting through the vast expanse of the universe.