No Other Fish in the Sea

 “No Other Fish in the Sea,” by Maldys Shrubb

    The fishing vessel sailed across the gentle night water by a lively crew.  They were currently captivated by a rudimentary dice game this particular evening.  The fish were not biting this week, and the mood was certainly sour.  The captain was cloistered in his chambers drinking rum in excess, as was his usual coping mechanism for a miserable trip at sea.  No one dared to disturb him, for he was a cantankerous drunk with a mean streak a mile wide.   

    The captain would often fill his pipe with tobacco and his glass with rum, as he let his mind recall the face of a woman, he believed he loved.  She was married, but that couldn't stop the captain's feelings.  She would spend her afternoons gazing off the pier in a port town in Maine, and he would spend those free afternoons staring hungrily at her.  He must have watched her a dozen times before he could muster the courage to talk to her. 

    Her name was Alana, she spoke with distinct eloquence, and with an accent that was local to northern Maine.  He introduced himself as Robert, the captain of the Nadia.  He named the ship after his dear mother, who raised him with care while his father took long voyages out to sea.  He told her that the sea salt coursed through his veins and that the waves were always calling him.  Alana found the crusty middle-aged man, with a prominent pot belly, to be an amusing character.  However, she didn't feel any particular attraction to him.  For all he represented an amusing character, that told stories that she fancied, and nothing more.  Robert dearly wished that she didn't feel this way, as he was enamored with her. 

    Captain Robert would greatly enjoy talking to her at length about fish migration patterns, life on the high seas, and the occasional ghost story while sailing at late nights.  Sometimes Alana would listen and jot down notes on a small pad so inspire her amateur (although well written) poetry.  Robert liked that she took notes, as it made him feel like his life was not a story that would be lost through time.  He periodically feared that his experiences would sink into a tangle of brine and coral that is the sea.   

    One evening Alana drank a bit too much wine and saw the captain walking on the pier with lit pipe and discerning look on his face.  He was trying to decide if he should delay his next voyage due to inclimate weather.  The sudden appearance of Alana distracted his calculated thoughts, and he flashed her a wide grin when she approached.  Her walk was both tipsy yet graceful.   Alana spent countless hours practicing walking with confidence while inebriated. 

    They spoke at length about life in the small port town which they inhabited.  Alana eventually changed the topic to her husband, whom she said was often neglectful.  The thought of such a wonderful woman being neglected appalled the captain.  He didn't want to confront her or her husband about such an affront to his romanticized notions of what she deserved.  He just wanted to push off the whole subject entirely.  He announced his intentions to leave in the morning, and to set sail on fishing voyage that would keep him at sea for some time. He knew that he made this decision out of misplaced heartache and not from sound fisherman's logic. 

    The captain pulled himself from his memory, and cup, when the sound of whipping winds suddenly snapped his attention to reality.  Gale force winds pounded the sides of the old vessel, and the shouts of the crew could be heard on the deck above.  He cursed himself for being so impetuous in his desire to leave the town.   Despite his foggy mind, he knew one thing to be true:  He left town out of feelings of rejection.  It was a woman he was infatuated with that sent him running.  Now it was the sea itself that rejected him, and sent him running, to the deck. 

    Lighting cracked and snapped the mast in half like a piece of dry kindling.  Crew members scrambled and dived out of the way of the falling mast.  Robert tried to call out orders to the crew.  Some of them had dived overboard to avoid the falling mast.  This trip was a disaster.   Love, like the sea, often felt like being tossed around by vicious waves, waiting for fish that would never bite.   

THE END