The SiP Saga Chronicles

A Tall Tail

The sun shimmered across the surface of the water as the Mandrake chugged towards Portsmouth harbor. The past two days had been hard; high winds and rough seas had tormented the crew aboard the Mandrake, tossing the old girl like a dry leaf on a rushing river, but they and she had endured. Now they were returning with a bumper catch, the freezer compartment full to the brim with fish ready for the market stalls. The trip had been a success, a decent haul, as Captain Shanty would call it.

The journey home had taken the best part of a day, giving the crew ample opportunity to sort and pack the catch in ice. There was enough there for them to live well and sleep soundly for several weeks, and the mood on the Mandrake was buoyant when they returned to port.

Captain Shanty was in full song as he steered the ship homewards, the sound of sea shanties drifting down from the wheelhouse while the Captain regaled tales of brave mariners and bottles of rum.

Flynn, meanwhile, was sitting quietly at the stern, his woolen hat stretched over one knee, reading a book on airplanes. The quietest of the trio, he would often be found with his nose in a book, whether an encyclopedia of Atlantic marine life or a manual on the aerodynamics of light aircraft; he enjoyed the relative peace of calmer waters.

Peg was taking in the view, letting the sea breeze flutter over his face while the coastline grew ever closer. He loved the sea, the undulating movement of the boat over the waves, the quiet (when the Captain wasn't singing), and the excitement that came from the uncertainty of their job and even their safety. It was living with a degree of risk, and what better way to truly live and appreciate life. But Peg also enjoyed coming home to the land, the people, and the pub. After all, the sea was for fish, and no matter how sturdy his sea leg may be, he belonged on dry land.

Peg continued to stare over the side when, in front of them, not one hundred yards from the starboard bow, he noticed a tail fin, too large for a fish, perhaps a dolphin or even a whale?

He scanned the water's surface, looking for any sign, a gust of wet air from a blow hole or the multiple fins of a dolphin pod, but to his surprise, he saw a woman! A blonde-haired, beautiful girl swimming in the shallows. Peg rubbed his eyes and looked again.

Sure enough, the blonde girl remained, swimming in a circle, her arms by her sides while her tail propelled her through the water. Her tail?

'Flynn! Get over here!' Peg yelled towards the stern.

Flynn sighed, put his book down, and wandered over to see what the old fool was yammering about, but as soon as Peg had raised his voice to call for his shipmate, the beautiful creature, startled by the sudden noise, darted below the surface, cutting through the water leaving not even the slightest ripple.

Flynn arrived at the gang rail and looked down, peering at the ocean up to the horizon, shielding his eyes from the sun before turning to Peg, a look of half-confusion, half-irritation from being pulled away from his book.

'What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?'

Peg stared down at the water, his eyes flashing this way and that, rolling in their sockets in search of the mysterious beauty, but there was nothing, only the dark aquamarine waves of the Atlantic.

'A mermaid! A girl! A beautiful girl mermaid!' He spluttered.

'A beautiful girl mermaid,' Flynn parroted dryly, his tone laced with a bored exasperation after years of Peg's tall tales. 'Which was it? A girl or a mermaid? Because all mermaids are girls, but not all girls are mermaids.'

'I...er...well...it was definitely a girl,' Peg stammered. 'She had a tail! I saw it. It was definitely a mermaid.'

'Could it have been a swimmer?' Flynn asked patiently.