"Ragnar! Isn't it time you retired? I'm getting worried about you out there alone, old dog." I laughed and slapped a hand down on the gunwale of his boat. "Hekla, always a pleasure seeing your pretty face in the morning," Ragnar said and laughed before putting down the net he was untangling. "Isn't it time you found a man, settled down, and had a couple of babes?" It wasn't the first time I'd heard that. The lads often gave me shit for being the only woman on the island to own a fishing vessel, and likely the only one not married, but mostly it was friendly banter, and they treated me fairly.
"I tried that, - at least the man part. Didn't work out too well now did it?" I winked at him and looked over the deck of his boat. "Any luck out there?" Ragnar shook his head. "Just got back from inspectin' the nets. Not much, a couple of halibuts an' a haddock. Not like it used to be. You headin' out?"
"A girl's gotta eat. Figured I'd take a gander over at the far side of Selkie's Reef. I spotted some pilot whales going past there the other day. Might as well check to see if they've been kind enough to chase some fish into my nets." Ragnar raised his brow and gave me a look. "I still don't think it's wise of ye to go so far out. That there's always been a bad spot for trouble and you know it."
"Don't you worry about me, Ragnar. The sea and I have got a deal. I take care of it, it takes care of me. There'll be no trouble today, or any other day. I'll see you when I get back. Keep a seat warm for me at the pub, will ya?" I gave him a wave before I walked off and hopped onboard The Draugr, my heavy boots hitting the deck with a loud thump.
After casting off, I checked over my equipment. I had been out the day before yesterday and knew everything was in perfect order. I'm meticulous about my ship and my gear, but it never hurts to double-check. The ocean and I might have a deal, but the ocean is a fickle friend, and many a seaman - or seawoman, have gotten in trouble in the rough waters of the North Sea.
The spot I was headed for was known for its temperamental undercurrents and Ragnar was right in telling me to be careful. As far as I know, I'm the only fisherman on the island to cast my nets on that side of Selkie's Reef. So far, it's served me well, and my willingness to fish out there has been the main reason my catches are usually larger than most of what the others bring in.
Gazing off at the horizon, I looked at the weather report again. This time of year, we were prone to get the occasional storm. Sometimes they would come crashing in without warning, and you never wanted to get caught in a bad spot. According to the report, it would be windy, but nothing the ship and I couldn't handle. Standing at the helm, I gave Ragnar one last wave before the ship's engine kicked in and took me smoothly out of the harbor.
-
Being out there, I felt free. I was in my element, so to speak. My father was a fisherman, and his father before him, and his father before him. It was my grandfather's ship I was steering out towards Selkie's Reef. He'd be turning in his grave if he knew I risked The Draugr coming out here to fish. My father, on the other hand, would approve, I'm sure of it. He was always a risk-taker. Although, perhaps knowing he'd approve should have been warning enough. He did end his days at the bottom of the sea. Not that I would mind dying at sea, being embraced by my fickle friend until the end of time - but I wasn't quite ready just yet. 32 was no time to pull in one's ores and go to Davy Jones's locker.
Looking up, I spotted a flock of Kittiwakes flying ahead of me. I took it as a good omen, that there would be fish in my nets. The birds settled in the sea ahead of me, bobbing on the grey and white waves. I always loved how the ocean looked in wintertime. Water the color of steel, with white tips like snow-covered mountains. No way to tell what was down there, the ocean keeping her secrets close to her heart. The wind was picking up, but I wasn't worried. I didn't quite like the look of those dark clouds that were gathering on the horizon, but they were far enough away that even if they did carry a storm on their backs I'd be well on my way back to harbor before it caught up to me.
It took me about an hour and a half to make my way to Selkie's Reef. By then the light had changed, the steel of the ocean taking on a darker, more sinister hue. I'd have to hurry if I was going to get my nets out of the water and turn back in time. I spotted my floats and maneuvered The Draugr towards them. I'd done this a million times. Hooking the nets and attaching them to the net puller was no harder than putting on my boots in the morning. I flipped the switch, and the winch started winding the nets onto the boat. I watched intensely as the net emerged from the deep, and a flush of relief hit me when I saw I had been rewarded. I sent a silent thanks to the pilot whales, the ocean, and the kittiwakes, for blessing me with a good catch.
With nimble hands I untangled the fish, quickly inspecting them, bleeding the ones I tossed on ice for storage, and gently releasing the ones I deemed too small, or not worth keeping. Before I knew it, my ice chests were overflowing with fish. I had my hopes for a large catch, but I never expected there'd be enough for me to run out of storage. I was about to flick the switch to pause the winch, giving me some time to carry off the full ice chests before I continued pulling in the net when suddenly the ship tilted. The motion threw me towards the gunwale, almost knocking the air out of me. I rushed towards the control panel to shut off the winch. The net seemed to be caught on something.
"Fuck!" I brushed the hair from my face and tried to look into the water, but it was too dark to make out anything. I've had this happen once before, and the only solution then, and now, was to go into the water. I knew other fishermen might cut tangled nets, discarding them in the ocean, but there was no way I would do that. I'd seen the suffering these ghost nets could cause. I could never live with myself, leaving my net like that. I quickly carried my ice chests into storage and dropped my anchor. I deduced from my sonar equipment that the net must have gotten stuck in a relatively shallow part of the ocean. I'm an excellent swimmer, having spent most of my life in or on the ocean. Even with the temperatures as low as now, I should be able to make it down and back up - probably, most likely. Right?
The wind kept picking up and there was no longer any doubt that the clouds rapidly closing in on me were carrying a storm. I quickly kicked off my boots and removed my rain gear. Underneath, I wore several layers of wool. The wool would keep me warm even if it was wet, so I kept most of it on, only removing my heavy knitted sweater so it wouldn't weigh me down. Without my rain clothes, the wind was freezing. The only comfort was that the water would probably feel warm with the air being so cold. A very small comfort, but still. "This is fucking crazy," I said to myself.