Manufactured Goods and the Fishing Boat Captain - part lll (a fable in 3, now 4 parts)

skilled sailor cork ring

Captain Sully and his fishing boat captain friends, feeling the weight of a thousand other fishing boat captains on their shoulders, stumbled into their local pub.

The bartender who was used to people stumbling out and not so much used to them stumbling in, stood speechless.

Outside, a storm was kicking up. The wind howled. The sliver of a waxing moon filled the sky.

Sad Irish music (this) wafted from the jukebox although no one had put in any coins and hey, the bartender thought to himself, when the hell did that thing start working again?

At first the other patrons didn't notice the sudden storm and the determined and slightly vacant look of the fishing boat captains slowly filling the pub.

All at once they stopped their conversations mid-sentence and cocked their heads.

They looked at their watches. The guy in the john dropped his cellphone down the toilet and flushed it away. He was late - there was no time to lose.

The words pounded in his head. The word pounded in all their heads. LATE.

Most couldn't remember what they were late for - although some had vague memories of kid's soccer games missed years ago, papers not turned in on time, deadlines missed at work and then the promotion going to that jackass who always threw his empty water bottle in the trash can instead of the recycling bin.

One became haunted by her father's funeral, which she had missed 5 years before when a freak storm just like tonight's now that she thought about it - had delayed her trip home. LATE filled their heads until they thought their heads would explode if they didn't get GOING.

Outside as they stumbled onto the sidewalk, each head turned toward the moon in unison. The moon which had been only a sliver just minutes before now filled the sky over the Etsy Marina sign. The moon mouthed "YOU'RE LATE".

(cue the scary music here)

The bartender may have thought for a moment how strange it was that everyone was leaving at once but recovered quickly, filled frosty mugs with Guinness and handed each fishing boat captain a drink in turn as they stumbled past him on their way to the corner booth.

These were not folks taken to complaining. They were women and men of the sea after all and they had learned long ago that a smooth sea did not make a skilled sailor.

Tonight they sipped their pints slowly and nervously. Many didn't speak. A few grumbled about customers who wouldn't know a hands-on captain from a hands-off captain until the ship they were fishing on capsized. At least there would be no captain to go down with the ship, they muttered.

Captain Sully, a man of few words, looked each fishing boat captain in the eye (all at once, yes, all at once) and pulled out a ... treasure map.

(I guess this is a fable in 4 parts now - laughs mischievously and looks at the moon)

Manufactured Goods and the Fishing Boat Captain - part ll (a fable in 3 parts)

amos trout studio print

The marina had only one rule (see part 1 here) - the captain of the fishing boat must actually captain the boat - hands on the wheel, that sort of thing. The captain could have help of course, but the captain still needed to be the captain after all.

(the marina hoped not the kind of captain who went down with her ship, but that part was up to the captain as it should be)

Over time, more and more fishing boat captains were parking their boats at this marina.

The marina got bigger and bigger and hired more people. The marina took down the signs that said this marina was a great place to be a fishing boat captain and put up signs that said this marina was a great place to make money.

People who had never even thought about being a fishing boat captain decided this fishing boat captain stuff sounded like a good idea and joined in, too.

Over time there wasn't room for everyone's boats to be viewed by the vacationers who could choose which boat they would charter for their fishing trip. The marina solved this problem by making different boats visible to different vacationers at different times based on stuff that even the smartest and most cunning fishing boat captains were unable to totally figure out.

There came a morning -

(a storm out of a clear blue sky will probably be the way the story is told later, although any fisherman worth his salt could tell you there had been storm clouds brewing for years)

when the fishing boat captains reached their docks and noticed the marina's one and only rule - the rule that said the captain's hands must be the hands on the ship's wheel - the one rule that fishing boat captains had lived by for as long as there had been fishing boats to captain - well, that one rule had been erased from the marina's welcome sign.

The marina called a meeting to explain the changes. They assured the fishing boat captains that this was really a good thing. The fishing boat captains could grow their hands-on businesses now that their hands didn't have to be holding on to the ship's steering wheel.

Most captains were upset. Some were scared. Many were angry. A few were relieved that they could stop pretending to be fishing boat captains, expand their fleets publicly and hire other hands for that pesky "hands on" part.

Captain Sully (yes, I decided the fishing boat captain from hub's trip was named Captain Sully; the most trustworthy name for a captain after all) who had been a fishing boat captain for so long he measured his time at sea in decades and the other equally crusty fishing boat captains had their own meeting at the pub that afternoon.

Now this is where my tale grows darker I'm afraid dear reader - this blog can't be cork and car parts all the time folks, I'm sorry - sometimes life is ... treacherous.

back tomorrow with part III (you may want to make like a lighthouse or a red roof inn and leave the light on)