The Dragons of the Sea

We were on a small boat, my father and I. We sailed far west into the Pacific Ocean, right off the Western coast of the United States. We wanted an adventure, we wanted to catch the largest fish we could find out there in the desolate, blue wilderness.

We had enough supplies to last us a month of food and water. Enough to last us even if we had an emergency. We had them stored in a cooler along with other essentials. My father was told that even a month's worth of supplies would not be enough, but he would not listen. He was dead set on going, after all.

We had bid our farewells to our friends in California. We weren't expecting to die out there, but we were expecting to be gone for quite some time. Our plan was to set sail towards the Pacific, land in New Zealand, Australia, or even Japan if need be, and resupply. Once we were ready, we would return home, and if we could, open a small fishing shop near the coast. We had everything all planned out.

But fate had other plans.

Thunderstorms, tidal waves, and high winds were only some of the hazards we encountered. We feared that we would never make it back to land. Most people would have you believe that "No Man's Land" exists out there on some far continent. Out here though, there was "No Man's Land." Just open water filled with things that want nothing to do with you.

My father became increasingly plagued by fatigue. His eyes had taken on a weary look and his face became more ragged from lack of sleep. He looked like a cloth that hadn't been giving the proper time of day. He dreamed of one day sailing around the world. But we were poor, so we took what little we had, and set to sea unprepared.

Myself on the other hand, I was terrified. This was my first time out in the sea. I was just a child who didn't know enough about the world and was too naive to consider what would happen if I left the safety of land. Plus, things were so desperate.

We were running low on food and water, the voyage had taken its toll on us, and we had lost sight of where we were. Out there, that's the most frightening thing that can happen. We had been plagued by bad weather and fishing had been mostly unsuccessful. We tried maps and even followed stars to find the best spots we could. But it was all for naught.

As our hope began to wane, we dropped anchor in a spot where the cerulean ocean's waves glowed with something that seemed like algae. The sun had set below the horizon, and we were painfully hungry and lacking in suitable drinking water. I for the most part, wasn't having a good time. Our dreams of adventure and fame had become a nightmare of hunger and thirst.

The ocean became dark and the waves sailed south along with the wind. The moonlight was the only source of hope that we had. Its soft gleam gave us a moment of peace, and the rough surface of the moon reminded me of the land we had parted not too long ago. I was exhausted.

My father hadn't given up hope though. He grabbed another one of his fishing rods and began to throw his reel into the deep ocean. He needed something to keep him going. Some reason to not give up. Something to make him not lose face in front of the only family he had left.

He sat there for hours. I had fallen asleep from my exhaustion, but when I had woken up again, he was still there, fishing. The sun had slowly started to rise again, another day where we had no food and water would begin, and we would use up the last crumbs of our food. But something felt different about today.

I don't know what I felt. The ocean's waves were picking up speed. They were becoming larger and larger. Was this going to be yet another storm? There were no clouds in the sky though. The sun's rays were striking my face, leaving me in awe of the ocean. My father, though, continued his fishing as if nothing had changed.

The waves only grew in size. Even for high tide, this was paranormal. Our boat began to shake from the force of each wave that passed us. It felt as if the boat would collapse. I looked at the ocean. My eyes were playing tricks on me. I saw dozens, hundreds, no. Perhaps thousands of massive shadows,  dashing through the cold Pacific water. I looked up at the sky, but there was nothing there.

I looked at my father, his eyes were closing and losing strength. I could tell he would not stay conscious much longer. I tried to keep him awake, yelled at him even, but he would not listen. I don't think he was able to hear me anymore. It seemed like his mind had shut out all his surroundings just to let him rest again.

My father had drifted asleep.

I pulled him to the center of the boat. I couldn't let him simply slide of the boat if things were to get worse. I tied him near the base of our sails. He wouldn't move from there. The only problem would be if the boat top sided. As I looked at the horizon, I saw something terrifying.

A massive tsunami drew closer to our ship. Its size rivaled that the Titanic. It would surely sink our ship if we were hit by it. No, there was no if. It would most certainly sink us. I had given up all hope. I called for my father, but he would not wake from his slumber. I called for anyone, for God even, to help us. But no one came.

I had lost my breath. I could do nothing but prepare myself for the worst. I grabbed hold of the railing of the boat, and prayed. I prayed for nothing but home, for safety, for land. I prayed so hard, gripping at the rails until my hands began to hurt and my blood was boiling. I was scared.

The shadows, those murky hallucinations, continued to surf across the waves. Their paths were guiding the tides towards some unknown destination, and we were the victims of something we could not understand. In a few moments, we would be crushed by the force of a thousand tons of seawater. I closed my eyes.

I heard nothing. The ocean, the waves. I didn't hear anything except a loud crash and drifting wind, as if we were flying.

I opened my eyes, only to be met by darkness. The sea was gone, the tsunami, everything. I thought I was dead. My eyes slowly accustomed themselves to the darkness, and I could see that the rest of the boat was here with me, my father as well.

Perhaps, this was the afterlife I thought. Maybe it was all over for us. As I began to look around, I could see strange things. Odd rocks that looked like scales. I saw limbs that looked like wings, no, like fins. I saw a towering structure above us, like the neck of a animal.

The darkness was slowly rising, and I was greeted by harsh sunlight once more. I could barely squint at the sight of such pure light. My eyes trembled, as if I was about to meet my maker and find peace in the eternal paradise that I believed did not exist.

When my eyes could finally make out what was in front of me, I was stunned. I saw the coast of California again. The people, barely on the horizon, as tiny as ants, were visible to me. I immediately turned the sails and the wind began to blow in exactly the direction I wanted it to.

We were going to make it to land. We would be saved. As my father began to wake, he asked me what had happened. I pointed towards land, and he cried. I saw tears shed from his face, and a smile that had long been hidden away, finally showed itself. We were saved.

I don't know what happened out there. By some miracle, we had been fortunate enough to find our way back to the coast. Something out there saved us, I thought. Something helped us. But for some reason, I think it wasn't just one thing. I think many 'things' helped us. Perhaps I'm insane. I wouldn't be surprised. We may not have gained our fame, but we managed to keep the one thing that was important to us. Our lives.

When we landed on the beach, we kissed the sand.