A Young Man and the Sea: A Short Story

A Young Man and the Sea

Sailing with the Winds of Change

    I’m not a sailor, but I jumped on a boat and set sail. Into the mercy of the wind and sea, I flung myself, believing they had no cause against me. The land dwellers, I had wronged, so their offenses are justified; but what had I done to the sea.

    It entices with white-foaming waves that pull you in deeper. Deep into the blue that seems steady and calm, mile after mile. All the way to the horizon, a push and pull like a mother lovingly rocking a baby in her arms. She enticed me and held me to her bosom, until I was completely at her mercy.

    Too far gone to turn around, no islands nearby, I was driven and tossed by storms suddenly. Without warning, the blue sky turned black, with thick angry clouds roaring with thunder. The once peaceful sea was bent on my demise, tossing me over the sailboat’s side. In the deep dark unknown.

    Drowning and sinking ever deeper, I wondered if the earth had testified to the sea. Has he told her things; the truth about me? Was she enraged at my deception or my ignorance, that my guilt would go with me from the earth to the sea. All that was left for me was to accept the judgement passed over me, to be lost forever at sea.

    A behemoth rose from the abyss below, to swallow me no doubt; but to my surprise, it carried me out on its back to safety. Under the sun and the air, I caught my breath. Would my misery not end there? The whale placed me gently back in my boat, rocking gently over calmer water. Scared to move and offend the great mammal, I lay there for hours, waiting for another storm. The storms were idle, so I bathed and drank and ate.

    Weeks went by and the waters were still. I tread cautiously and prayed intently, trying to avoid sins of omission. Cleaning the boat and sparing my rations, I grew comfortable again and considered the sea merciful. Perhaps all was forgiven after one storm of chastisement. I was grateful and content with my boat and my books, until the second, third, and forth storm.

    Tied to the deck, I braved each tempest but found the punishment exceeded my sins. What had I done to offend the sea? I had accepted each storm without complaint, but my rations were dwindling, and my patience grew weary. Another storm like this one could spell disaster.

    After living like a monk, praying and fasting, I expected the sea to be merciful and gentle. It gave no such reward for my saintly efforts, so I cursed like a sailor and threw caution to the wind. It was quiet for a while and grew stormy again. I wondered if my conduct mattered at all, and if the sea and the wind even knew I was there. Suddenly my solace at sea wasn’t so sweet.

    No matter where I went, disaster followed. Whether I was innocent or guilty on land or sea, it didn’t change. The nature of living is to be met with disaster. The earth does not care anymore than the wind if I live or die or pray or sin. But what will give me peace within? The peace I felt when I was ready to drown, then the whale came up and saved my life. Whether in storm or still water, a garden or valley, I am ready to live and ready to die.