The night was dark and the moon was high by the time the skif was in deep

enough water to exit the harbor. The tide was unkind to me this day. Luckily the
wind was steady and the sails full enough to pull my beleaguered hull from its
resting place. The mast creaked at the sound of a gust caught gently by canvas.
The night air whipped at my face as the boom swung, turning the bow towards its
destination.
Time passed without notice. The suns salute began to raise over the clouds as I
unfurled my gear upon the thwart. Again and again I have made this trip in vain
hunting for the elusive leviathan that has haunted my dreams. Night after night I
sleep with the thought of a gaf in his gills, vengeance satiated.
Turning toward the stern I envisioned once again the great tail of my nemesis
scrape the edge of the boat, the scream of excitement made by my son as he
pointed and shouted: grab the harpoon. The splash as he tripped over the tiller.
His eyes as he sank, amongst the darkness of the abyss. Then nothing.
His death was on my hands, and the beasts.
My eyes refocused from their terrible nightmare. The stern bobbed against the
wind, salt sprayed the mast and canvas. The sun blinding the horizon, burning
through my vengeance to make me warm. A splash.
In the distance.
A fin.
My eyes strained to focus amongst the waves crashing and the suns magnificence.
Gone. All that remains, the foam of the tails spray.
Heart beating, I grabbed the tiller and turned the bow toward the foam.
A wave, my body is thrown against a bitt, ribs crack, pain evident but ignored.
Ill have my prize.
I eyed the harpoon as another wave tackled me to the poop deck.
Water washes over me, the taste of copper touches my neglected gums. In my
obsession the first signs of scurvy show.
The skif jerks suddenly, hitting something solid. The fish is not a fathoms distance
from me.
Elated with luck I dive for the harpoon. A wave again, water fills my lungs.
Underwater. Plankton swirls at my feet. Salt in my lungs chokes up, forcing down
more salt. The fish seeks to claim another victim.
Sun light drifts through the currents above. I will not die here.
Kick, Kick, and Kick again. Eyes closed against the pain of death. The current twists
and turns, a cold breeze opens my sealed eyes. Air.

The boat had drifted not far away, a hard swim and the distance was covered.
My quarry lost to the ocean I rest on the deck. Vengeance will have to wait until
tomorrow.