The Fisherman's Tale (On Hiatus)

Chapter 3: No Turning Back

Chapter 3:

The wind swept through Chuck's dirty blonde hair. It was good weather for sailing, and Chuck was definitely enjoying being back out at sea. He did have a few concerns, seeing as by now he was less in shape than he usually was, which would be a problem if he needed to do anything very quickly. There were only one pair of hands on this boat, and Chuck was entirely responsible for whatever happened. He was almost paranoid that a large storm would come. In fact, he had a feeling gnawing at him that there would be a storm. It was just a question of it actually happening and if he could handle it. His confidence wasn't as high as it used to be seeing as he hadn't been at sea for a long time. But this was understandable, and Chuck was trying to let this concern go so that he could enjoy sailing and be calm in case of any emergency.

The boat was swaying gently, the waves lapping against the side of the grey boat. The boat itself may not have been as big as the others that were in Chuck's town, but it was still spacious enough for one or two men. The decking was beginning to show it's age, but it was still scrubbed clean. It had one large sail, and a wooden door going down to the living compartments. It had a small make-shift stove to the left, and a bucket for a toilet in a cupboard which was also filled with other bits and bobs. It wasn't the most sanitary thing, but there was limited space that couldn't afford to be wasted. Further down the small corridor-like space were two hammocks, with two spares at the side.

He could remember the times in the summer when he, Polly, Brett and Robyn all stayed in the boat. They had used it as their own form of holiday home, and they would host their own small events there with Amy and her family. The boat would look like some kind of float for a festival, and then Chuck would cook everyone a meal on the make-shift stove. They would all eat together, conversing with one another and sharing jokes. Plus, at events like Christmas, birthdays and anniversaries, they would exchange presents with one another. It was these kind of events that brought the family together, and Chuck couldn't imagine spending the holidays any other way. And, at the end of an evening of stomach-achingly enthusiastic laughter and fun, they would all curl up in a hammock or make their own bed on the floor; Polly would bring in a mountain of blankets to keep everyone warm when they stayed there in the winter, and in spring and autumn 'just in case'.

Those were the days.

Those were the days where everyone was happy, no one minded that Chuck had lost his job through the disappearance of the fish, and everyone was content with just going along with what they had. They were grateful for what they still had. But gratefulness often goes out the window after a while. Chuck found that he knew what he had, lost it, found contentment and gratefulness in what was left and as he began to take that too for granted, he lost that as well. It was as though life was trying to teach him that you must always be grateful for what you have, because even the bare minimum can be taken away from you and leave you with absolutely nothing.

It was a harsh lesson that he thought that he had learnt now.

Chuck ran his hand through his dirty blonde hair, and paced about the decking, thinking about what would need doing. He looked up and into the distance, and there was a vast expanse of deep, dark blue sea before him. He had no clue how long he'd be at sea until he came across anything. Would would the edge of the world look like? Would he soon arrive back at the harbor at the other side of town? He didn't know what to expect. As far as he knew, he was doing a first; no one had ever actually ventured out this far, only far enough to be able to catch a good amount of fish.