The Full Circle

January 13, 2009
For what is man in nature? An Infinite being
Cast upon the shadow of light? Is he the relation
Of all that is inevitably nothingness which mockingly
Creates the infinite? What is man in nature but the Full Circle…

Raleigh Wittaker stepped out onto the slippery, sea soaked deck. He was a strongly built man of Scottish decent standing at about 6’2 with a strong jaw, and closely cropped light brown hair. The storm was at the horizon. Like a black, cloudy reflection of the churning ocean extending from one end of the sky to the other. The sea tossed his insignificant fishing boat around like a little piece of wet plastic in a vast swimming pool of churning waves. The sea foam bubbled around the deck, slipping from one side to the other as the half asleep crew members stumbled around the deck desperately attempting to tie the nets.

Captain Wittaker had seen this kind of situation before, and knew the dangers of braving a level 2 hurricane in the middle of July in the Arctic sea. It was a bold move on his part to go ahead of all the other captains, but he knew the risks, and the rewards for coming in with the first catch were far too valuable for him and his crew to ignore. In the end he never realized where his profiteering got him through these life risking treks.
The frosty gusts of sea air bit and strangled at his beard as he attempted to scan the duties his men were performing. The situation was getting out of hand and the waves quickly grew larger and larger, slamming repetitively into the deck and side of his small boat like a raving pack of hungry animals. It was still late afternoon but the thick and cloudy sky and the sea air cast depressing shadows over the boat and crew. Wittaker thanked his makers that this petulant weather hadn’t decided to rain yet, but he knew this storm was inevitable.

His ragged breath tore at his throat and lungs making him choke and sputter but he pushed through his discomfort for his crew. He put every thing on the line and he would never intentionally put the men he had worked with for years in any danger.

“Sir…..sir……. Captain!!

“Yes Anderson!” he shouted with a weary and strained voice.

“Why don’t you go back to navigation with Edwards and figure out where the hell we are, Percious can’t handle this much longer and we need time to get this damn net out of whack. I don’t like those clouds ahead.”

“Yea your right, I get back and see where were at”, the captain strained over the thunderous waves, he had a duty but he quickly realized he was only getting in the way. He and James Anderson had sailed together for over 12 years and he trusted his judgment in these times, he wasn’t too worried about disrespect, and not that anyone could hear them anyways.

The sea splattered his orange jacket with the salt water and the frigid air made him shudder as he stepped into the creaky, dimly lit stairway to navigation control. He found Randall Edwards bent over his charts and the halfway decent GPS he had purchased last summer. He felt the sudden drop of the ship as it banked over the crest of a wave. This storm was becoming more than just a random squall. He could sense it in his bones.

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