Page 13 of Weathering The Storm

October 21

This is when cabin fever starts playing tricks on me.

About a week in, life at sea becomes ordinary. The long days and sleep deprivation have everyone in a state of perma-fog, and solid naps and hot meals are the glue holding our entire operation together.

“Hungry, Cap’?”

Seth walks into the bridge with two steaming bowls of the pot roast I’d tossed together in the pressure cooker earlier.

I take one, thanking him. The hearty aroma of beef and potatoes reminds me it’s been a while since my last meal. A different sort of hunger has consumed me lately.

I dig in, slurping ungraciously at the broth and pointing my spoon out the window. “There’s an orca pod, starboard side. Don’t know if you saw them.”

Seth immediately leans in, his breath fogging up the glass as he watches the distinctive black dorsal fins arc over the surface of the swells. Twenty of them, by my count. The water reflects the setting sun, golden amber beaming into the wheelhouse.

“God,” he says, voice laced with an almost childlike wonder. “You really do have the best view up here.”

It’s not like we rarely see killer whales. Their hunting grounds overlap with ours, same as the seals that dance through the whitecaps and the eagles that swoop down to fish from the skies.

But no matter how many times we encounter any and all varieties of marine life, the awe never wears off. Just like a deep, peaceful sleep or a fatty, salted broth, seeing all these animals in their natural habitat is one of the simple pleasures that makes being out here worth it.

I’ve never fished for the glory of breaking records or the goal of getting rich.Thisis always what it’s been about for me. Being in nature. Not passing through it, but embedded in it.

Seth sits on the bench after the pod branches away from our path, growing distant in the fading light. He pops a chunk of potato into his mouth and chews, a lopsided grin rising on his cheeks.

“If you could be any sea creature,” he asks, “what would you be?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“A fantastic one. Come on. What would ten-year-old Nicky have said?”

I finish scarfing down my bowl and set it to the side, thinking. “Probably an octopus. We pulled one up in a trap one time and had to chase it all over the deck. I thought they were so cool. How smart they are, how they can fit through the tiniest little crevices.”

He smiles. “Figures you’d pick something solitary.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. You just keep to yourself a lot. You’re not even attached to the woman you’re hooking up with, and you know any man in Alaska would’ve put a ring on her finger by now.”

“Marriage is a big commitment.”

“Lemme guess—you’re too committed to the sea?”

“Sure.” I force myself to look away as he finishes his food and stretches, running a hand down his abdomen. “Something like that.”

Seth watches me. A little too perceptively. “You ever get lonely, Nicky?”

You have no fucking idea.“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point there.” His eyes flit to the window. “That’s why I think I’d be an orca or a porpoise or something. I wanna have what they have.”

I pause. I was trying to evade the question. It didn’t actually occur to me that Seth could be lonely, too. I’ve always thought heislike them. Energetic, social, playful.

“Don’t you have that? You’re close with your family, right? You spend a lot of time with them.”

“Oh yeah, no. They’re great. My mom and dad are good people. Audrey’s kids are lots of fun, and she and I are tight. Well, ever since I got my license and she didn’t have to drive me all over the place. When we were younger, she just yelled at me and beat me up all the time.”

I chuckle.