The dawn broke. A glimmering violet strain off towards the east at first, moments passed and blues could be seen as well. There was enough light to see an all too familiar upsetting site: no sailboats in the harbor.
The ocean can at times overwhelm you. Tickling all of your senses at the same time. You see the ocean long before you smell, taste, hear or feel it. After going one time you always remember the lasting effects on your body and mind.
Two friends stood on a long narrow dock. The friends were young and full of regret. Over time all of the ships and boats had left the harbor. Ever since the last of the mines closed, everyone had left town. No one came back.
“At this rate, I wonder if anyone is ever coming back. I mean anyone.”
“Doubt it”
“If no one comes back, how the hell are we ever gonna leave?”
That question was met with a silence that somehow was more powerful than the once busy harbor. The two friends were left in dismay. They both planned their escape from town since they were children.
Weeks passed; still no one came. They had stopped going down to the docks in the very early morning. No point now. Hope abandoned them. Somehow they shared something they no longer wanted.
Everyone in the town was old. They stayed because they left the port city for the mine and did not want to go back. Farms were still open. They still had the means to provide for themselves. They just lost meaning in their existence. Somehow, the most logical thing they wanted to do now seemed impossible.
A knock was heard, heavy enough to wake one from their slumber on an old rotting door. “Let’s build a boat out of the dock!”
“No way! They would throw us out of town!”
“Well maybe out of a home then!”
“You have lost your mind. I am tired enough to go back to sleep”.
“It is truly possible to build a basic boat out of a shed! We can ask your dad for help!”
“It would take a long time for three of us to build an actual boat we could sail on”
“Think about it! If a boat comes in the meantime, we will take it!”
Yeah if someone comes back headed to the mainland either us or just me will for sure be on it.”
No ships in the harbor. It was enough to make any mind wonder if there had ever been ships. Everything was calm. The few people left in the town enjoyed the quiet. They had both reached a point where the worst idea had become the best idea, for it was the only idea.
No one in town liked the idea of using the docks to build a boat. However, some crates from the mine were offered. There were also long planks in the mine. They made a perfect hull for their two-seat sailboat.
One dumb idea became the life of a small town. Everyone who stayed in the town came from the mainland. Not only did all tell the exact same tales of how to get there, but each elder also had wisdom of why they needed to go.
One afternoon the two friends were sealing wood planks, using a form of leaves and primitive glue. “So half a days sail in that direction.” A hand gesture was made to the northwest.
“Right as long the winds are low and the sky is clear at sunrise.”
“Hey, what if a boat does come before we are finished with our own?” The silence was their answer. AT that moment in time they each wished the other would speak first. Neither one of them did. Two friends had found something they could agree on again.
Days past with much of the same. In the morning they would go down to the empty docks, somehow more motivated than the previous time. Each day went by fast, there was a strange flow to time. The sun seemed to set sooner, even though the opposite was true.
Getting the pieces of the boat was the hardest part of all of this; rather moving each piece from the mine. The only day they both almost gave up was when they moved the crates from the mine. In that mine shaft carrying those crates, the two friends did something more need to do. They stopped halfway with the crates and decided to go home and rest and come back the next day.
They kept on building at least some of their boat each day; in doing that they built some of the better days of their life. Each morning passed with no one new in town.
The young friends would come back in time if for no other reason to visit. Who knows, maybe then they could take someone back with them who otherwise could have never left. The friends were building their own legacy.
Like every other morning, the sun rose eagerly. At the end of the east most dock was a sight! One single sailboat on the harbor. Made from crates, boards, and the very boat dock itself for a mast, floated a small craft. Although it almost resembled a floating log with a sail it would get them to where they need to go. Those in the town agreed it was seaworthy.
One final thing was agreed upon: they would come back next spring. Hopefully on a fishing or mail boat. They both wanted the adventure enough to not quit. Today was their day.
Never give up on life. Never give up on love.
That’s it: That’s all:
-Nathan Hall