Short Story 1

A short story I wrote for the writing course I am doing.

I love the ocean. I don’t just mean I like the ocean a great deal. I can’t imagine a life that doesn’t involve the ocean. My life’s weekends have been full of unforgettable experiences at the beach or on my boat.

My favorite boating destination is a place called Hummocky Island which lies about thirty nautical miles south-east of Rosslyn Bay boat harbor. Covered in steep cliffs and small shrubby bushes it is only a small island one and a half kilometers long rising eighty meters above sea level. There is only one beach on the whole island which faces north-east and it’s absolutely beautiful. Clean white sand with crystal clear water in a horseshoe shaped bay that deepens very quickly and can be quite treacherous even in mild weather as small waves funnel into the bay growing larger by the time they reach the beach.

On the southern end of the two hundred meter long beach is a pile of enormous boulders that extend several hundred meters out to sea upon which I have had some amazing dives. On one memorable occasion my dive buddy was befriended by a curious and very persistent olive sea snake that swam within inches of his mask and seemed fascinated by the bubbles emanating from this strange visitor to his environment. There seemed to a lot of bubbles as I suspect he was breathing quite rapidly due to the close proximity of such a venomous snake. This area of the island is also home to some of the largest anemone beds I have seen and these beds are full of dancing, darting clown fish that become very aggressive when approached. You have to admire the courage of a fish an inch long zooming out of it’s home to attack a 6 foot intruder.

During the colder winter months this small bay is sometimes home to vast schools of Grey Mackerel which are one of my favorite table fish and are terrific fun to catch on light line. Sometime spotty Mackerel and bludger trevelly are intermingled with the Greys causing a great ruckus on the boat as these fish are nearly unstoppable on the light line we use in this area. It’s not uncommon to hear the brief scream of a fishing reel and then the temper tantrum from the hapless fisherman as all his line is stripped from the spool along with his six dollar lure.

It was on a day like this when the fish had finished biting and I was thinking about heading back into the harbor and the real world when I realized that my life’s goal is not to climb the corporate ladder or even write the best article for the latest journal but to have the health and freedom to return to this spot with Marcia and Haylee whenever we can. Simply, I love the ocean.