By Carine Saeed
There was a conflict between the weather. Whilst the icy breeze angered the ocean, the scorching sun rays transformed the deep blue sea into a dreamy cyan. The waves slapped against the boat at a systematic motion forming a soothing rhapsody. Although the melody was loud, it seemed to disturb none as they all remained absorbed in their endless train of thoughts. Sailing further into the ocean resulted in the splashes getting more boisterous and along with it came the harmless droplets that landed silently on their outfits. Suddenly, the sound of unified gasps filled the air. It took them a moment to register the water that gathered at the hull of the boat. Like a slap against their skins, the majority of the passengers decided against daydreaming, realizing they must remain attentive to the cunning waves.
He, on the other hand, was not at all surprised being already accustomed to such trips. After all, he warned them of such conditions, advised them beforehand to wear their cheapest outfits and a pair of flip-flops. His lips tugged on the side while he observed wordlessly the expressions of his friends. They were a total of 10 on the boat. All of them never fished before, except him. As the organizer of the trip, he felt responsible for them. Therefore, his eyes watched them like a hawk, with special scrutiny towards his best friend, the girl with a pair of doe-eyes. Resting his head against one of the chilly, metallic posts, he sighed. Patience wasn’t his virtue.
The boat came to an abrupt stop. Silence filled the air for splits of seconds before the passengers gathered in the front on the expectation to start fishing.
“Not yet, we are still going to check if there are fishes in this area,” the organizer spoke, pointing to himself and the boat driver.
The crowd dispersed upon this announcement. Regardless of the static state of the boat’s motor, the bateau swayed inelegantly on its sides. Its dance moves are dependent completely on the unexpected tides. However, it wasn’t a solo waltz, because the passengers’ heads started moving as well. Discreetly, the group noiselessly passed each other the dizziness pill. Each of them was careful not to drink much water to not upset their stomachs that stirred in a blender-like motion. Yet, it was of no avail. Six passengers took turns vomiting their breakfasts into the nearest bin then wiped their mouths with layers of tissue.
As if the fishes knew that they were going to be caught, they hid in the deep. Luck wasn’t on the passengers’ side either, since the high tide resulted in the string on the rods to float rather than sink to the bottom of the ocean. Their lack of achievement resulted in them trying different areas in the sea. Resembling a programmed software, whenever the boat came to a halt, the vomiting session began. Once again, the circle of friends witnessed the fishing rod coming out of the sea empty-handed.
“Tell him to go back to the shore,” the doe-eyed girl begged after noticing that they had been in the deep for more than three hours.
She had one hand settled on her stomach, and her head laid on her sister’s shoulder blade. She was exhausted. Hungry. All she dreamt of at that point was standing on stable ground.
With a defeated expression, the responsible friend asked the driver to head back to the land.
Carine Saeed is an engineering and a journalism minor student
