The Offshore Life
The walking hour is early, just after 4.am. Only those who work with their hands rise at these hours
Darkness lingers over the dock as the bridge mounted flfloodlights click on, illuminating the cockpit in a blinding glow that bounces off the fiberglass. The coffee pot hisses, bubbling hot water onto the grounds. The deckhand’s mind, however, focuses on different grounds. ThThe continental shelf. The Gulf Stream. ThThe off shore grounds.
ThThe captain is still snoring in his berth as the mate moves by muscle memory. The young man’s body is fatigued from the lon day yesterday. ThThey found the bite. ThThe reports were on the money, and the blue marlin chewed. Today, he hopes,
