The captain was just past halfway on his journey to Amsterdam. He looked at the almost calm water and sighed. He loved the ocean, lived for it. He was finally where he wanted to be, in the middle of the ocean, not a worry in his mind. He put his hand on the side of the boat and patted it lovingly, as if to say ‘thank-you.’ He sighed again and sat down on an empty wooden crate. As he sighed he noticed that he could see the fog of his own breath, he found that amusing and breathed out repeditively watching the swirl of his breath. He chuckled and stopped.
The captain turned around to see if anyone had seen him, and he was mildly relieved when he saw no one had. Looking down at his hands he took off a gold ring from his left finger, his ring finger. He looked at it thoughtfully, he missed his late wife, sometimes he longed for the day they’d be together again. He lost her at sea, there was a reef and it knocked the boat almost over. She fell and the back of her head on a sharp rock. He put the ring in his pocket quickly and looked up at the sky.
He turned around and took a few steps, it was very cold and they still had a bit of a way to go. He suddenly realised how lonely he was, he needed his wife, he had his crew but they would never be able to understand. He went inside of the boat and sat down with a mug of rum.
All he had was the sea.
