The Miracle in the Currach

A currach is a small boat of the kind used by the ancient Irish.
This is a story I tell in an historical recreation group where I play the part of an 8th-century Irish monk.
In the 8th century, Irish monks evangelized pagan Europe. This is my somewhat tongue-in-cheek interpretation of how they might have worked.
Note: There is a glaring error in the story (apart from the obvious artistic license with names).
How well do you know your Scripture? :-)

Many years ago, in a land far to the east, there lived a seanachie named Iesu. Now, Iesu was not just a storyteller. He was a teacher and a healer as well, and the gifting was on him. For he made the lame to walk, the blind to see, and the deaf to hear. Indeed, his very word would heal those in need of healing – and wound those in need of wounding.

He had with him a dozen boon companions, who traveled with him and aided him. Three of the twelve were fisherman, namely Peader, Seamus, and Sean; Seamus and Sean bein' brothers. And one day, as they were on the shores of Loch Galaylee, they decided to cross to the other side. T'was no trouble at all for Seamus and Sean to borrow a currach, and so off they set for the far shore of the loch. T'was a fine day, bright sunshine, a light breeze, and Iesu bein' a bit worn from all the teaching he'd been up to, lays down for a bit of a nap.

Now, Loch Galaylee is no mean loch – she's laing, braid, an' deep, and as such lochs do, she makes her own weather. And so, later in the day, when the little currach is halfway across, the clouds begin to gather, and the wind begins to freshen, and the clouds get lower and grayer, and the wind picks up to really blow. And now the clouds are black as night, and it's pelting rain, the wind is blowin' a full gale, the waves are as high as the masthead, and the little currach is rocking' back and forth. Seamus and Sean are haulin' on the sail to get it down before it's ripped to shreds, Peader is haulin' on the tiller tokeep the currach from bein' swamped by the waves, everyone else is bailin' for their lives – except for Iudas, who's pukin' over the side – and there's Iesu, still sleepin' in the bottom of the boat!

Peader reaches out a great foot and kicks him in the side, screamin', "MASTER! GIT UP! CANNA YE SEE THERE'S A STORM OUT AND WE'RE ALL GONNA BE DROWNED?!?" Iesu peels open an eye, and he cocks an eye up at the storm, and he cocks an eye up at Peader, and he says, "Och, man, where's yer faith? What cause have ye to be afeared when I'm wi' ye?" And he stands up in the currach – it's still heavin' to and fro – and he stretches out his hands, and he says to the wind, "BE CALM!" and he says to the sea, "BE STILL!"

And even as he speaks, it is so. The winds dies down to the barest breath of a breeze. The ragin' sea becomes as flat as a mown hayfield. And all the men in the boat sort of huddle together at the far end, saying to each other, "What sort of a man IS this, that the wind and the waves obey him?" All but Peader, who throws himself at the feet of Iesu, calling out, "My Lord and my Master! Truly you ARE the Son of the only Living God!"

And that, my friends, is when the real miracle occurred. For that is when a fisherman spoke the truth.