Ocean Lover

Chapter 1

"There are some things in this life that we never understand. Only when it's gone, only when it's over, then we understand--or when it happens.

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I don't specifically like the ocean, but I like the outdoors in general. I love sunshine, adventure and dirt and thrill and all the uncertainties the outdoors bring. Before the foundation was founded, my original plan was to open a travel agency. I figured it was a perfect for me and the island that I lived in. But after I had several clients, I made up my mind that I needed something else.

The tourists were too demanding. I told the website developer to emphasize the market is  backpackers. But it turned out, some, if not most backpackers are not genuine outdoor people and complain all the time. Didn't like it.

So I opened a foundation, named Ocean Lovers' Foundation.

The purpose of the foundation is to protect the Ocean and conserve the natural resources by information campaign, coastal clean-ups and the like. Eco-tourism is one of our four components but it turns out, for practicality reasons, to be the primary operation of the foundation. 

It was the only way the foundation could survive. Funding was pathetic and slow and sometimes, if not most of the time, impossible to ace. 

"I don't like those guests." I said sipping my fifth cup and it wasn't even noon. The ocean was, as always, lovely and breathtaking and though I saw this view every single day, I never tire of it.  The government gave us permission and even help built our office which was located on a low cliff. The location is a pain, but the tourists seem to like it very much. 

Attached on the face of the rocky cliff is a wooden ladder than leads to a wooden private port, forty feet long. On it is a mini office which was supposed to be just a ticketing booth, but climbing up and down the stairs is a tiresome work, so I grabbed most of my office belongings and sprawled them on small desk in that mini office. And it is in this mini office I stay most of the hour, and sometimes, when the weather is brilliant the night sky is clear and stars twinkle cheerfully, I even sleep here.

"They're the tourist. They're the boss." replied Gibson, my friend and Ocean Lover's Head Boatman. He graduated Bachelor of Science in Marine Biology but said he only did so because of his talent to hold his breath unbelievably long—I don't know how long and I never believe when he says 10 minute, he is full of it sometimes. He said he is a Dive Master but I never saw his credentials, and I never asked for it. His diving skills and care for his buddy and dive students was, for me, what matters most. Physically he is a perfectly tanned, ruggedly handsome and maintains a long brown hair which often mistakes him for a girl by local tourists. He comes highly in request for his charm and humor. And now he stood half naked prepping his boat for an island hopping tour.

"Not if they're booked with us." I said, "The sea is our boss. Therefore they are not the boss. No. In my f---"

Gibson shushed me and winked. "I got this."

Oh I hoped so, because the guests that climbed down the cliff, from the unnecessary noise they were making, were obviously a pain. 

The clients were a group of four: two male and two females. The two guys had a beer in one hand. The girls cursed the narrow slippery stairs and laughed and screamed and giggled.

"Shit." I whispered.

The girls beamed at the sight of Gibson and I know that that was a good thing, because that means Gibson was in control. But the guys were a different story.

"Hey!  You our boatman?" the guy in grey converse shirt asked. I recognized his face instantly, he was Charlie. We exchanged emails for this tour. Gibson gave a light bow and smiled. "Who's in charge here?"