From the beach.

Shingle drag beneath shallow wave pages.

The lapstrake swings heavily towards him and if it were any rougher, waist-deep in the swell, Knott would surely be pulled beneath it. Sam, flapping his arms, wades from the beach into the surf. Ffooks, bow in both hands, says, get in, get in. Knott pulls himself up over the starboard and is in. Sam, port side, struggles. The gunwale catching him across his knees and, for a moment, he may just tumble back into the water. But, somehow, he’s in and perching, soaked, one of the benches and rubbing his legs, miserable. Ffooks plops over the side, out the way, out the way, he says. Crablike, low and all arms and legs, scuttles to the stern. The next wave reckons to carry them back to the beach, the bow rising, the boat begins to spin. But Ffooks, with one sudden jerk on the ripcord, come on, come on, starts the engine. When Knott next looks back, the beach is far away. Golden Cap soaking up the sun and the water is diamond.

16 thoughts on “From the beach.

  1. Your descriptive piece reminds of a time we got in a terrible storm while boating on Lake Mead in Nevada. Not the ocean, but still dangerous waves when the winds whip. I have never been so happy to stand on solid ground after that experience!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh, wow! I am a bit surprised, but people did die the day I mentioned. 😢 Spending time on the water is wonderful, but one should always be prepared, even on lakes. I enjoyed my time as a youngster on Arizona lakes. They were less crowded then. They are still beautiful though.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Mystically pulling writing! Perhaps there is danger out there on the water, but to me this writing speaks of a love of life and observance of the sun making the water diamond. If that is my final view, how content I should be.

    Liked by 1 person

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