Left to right: Nico and Chtristopher on a boaters island
This story turned into a small series, Have Boat Will Travel. This is part two, Island Dreams, in the series. I was only going to write one blog. But it turned out to be almost 3,000 words or more. So, this story is written and will be released once a week throughout January. I hope you enjoy!
January 21st, 2013
...I wipe the sweat from my brow, clean the tears from my eyes, that the salt from my sweating skin, had drawn out and clean any blood from the nicks on top of my skin, caused from the preparation to get that boat ready.
I grab the boys and we head out with our boat, for some fun in the sun, and get underway....
Island Dreams
When the stress of life accumulates on your shoulders, weighing you down, draining your spirits. Your mind looks for ways to release some of the weight pressing down on your weary body. And when you think you've discovered your path to fresh air, suddenly the strain of work compounds the stress which clouds your field of vision even further. The cloudiness disrupting your internal workings giving your mind that feeling of not being able to catch a break. Which in-turn, brings you down even more.
That's why getting the boat prepared and in the water is well worth my blood, sweat and tears. Because for me, getting on the boat and heading out to my island dreams, is my way of shedding the stress and leaving it at the dock, as I leave for the fresh air and ocean spray.
Once we get underway, we travel on the waves like a surfboard rides the surf and it allows us to feel uninhibited. It's a freedom that we have grown accustomed more frequently since we've had the boat.
As we glide over the top of the water on our traveling craft, I set a course for a little island where I can anchor our boat to the beach, disembark, like pirates discovering land, and walk around the shores sandy beach.
My sons seek out the fish that can be seen in the shallow area of a small lagoon. The colorful fish play hide n' seek with my boys, as they move in and out of the rocks trying their best to take shelter from my little boys' prying hands.
The breaking waves, that aren’t so menacing, have small white caps, that gently slap against Nico and Christopher's tiny, body frames, causing them to scream and shout terms of endearment. The sun does its best to beat down on them unmerciful and attack their exposed skin, but their will for fun, and sunblock, is stronger then what Mother Nature can throw at them, because they are fearless and their youth is king.
The boat canopy provides a long stretch of shade that my sons would rather trade for the sand and water. I sit under my shade in my Captains Chair. My mind is clear and the stress is gone and it allows me to enjoy them. My mind wanders as a smile creeps on my face,and think, how these kids are mine.
The boat canopy provides a long stretch of shade that my sons would rather trade for the sand and water. I sit under my shade in my Captains Chair. My mind is clear and the stress is gone and it allows me to enjoy them. My mind wanders as a smile creeps on my face,and think, how these kids are mine.
“Damn, I am lucky.”
The boys stretch out on the sand as the sun drenches their skin with warmth and the sunshine from the heavens gently brightens up their day. While they lay down on the ground, the surf from the deep blue sea, lightly blankets their tan bodies while they laugh out loud. The waves crash down upon them pushing them into the wet, mud like, sand. The roar of the ocean pushes their laughter my way, and it begs me to join in.
I jump out of the boat and my comfortable Captains Chair and land on the sandbar below.
Splash
The cool water invigorates me. The excitement takes over and I don't waste time to get to their side because the innocence of a child is infectious and it compels me to have fun.
I pick up the seashells that have made their way to the safety of land, from where they once were in the depths of the ocean, so beachcombers can admire their shapes and colors. And I mischievously show my kids how to skip them across the water and return them to their watery tomb. Where they will rest until the force of the ocean rolls them back to their final resting place on the beach’s face once again.
The boys try to skip the shells but quickly decide throwing them at the tiny birds that outpace the waves reach, would be more fun.
“No,” I say. “Do not throw the shells at the birds. Okay, now don’t throw them at me!”
My guys look at me and smile. There is no place they’d rather be. But the sun and fun makes way for hunger pangs that intrude in the day’s activities, so it’s time to move on.
We pack the boat and head to the public docks and leave our island dreams behind.
The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.
The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto © is also a Registered Copyright with the Office of the Registers, United States of America, TX 7-611-138
The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto © is also a Registered Copyright with the Office of the Registers, United States of America, TX 7-611-138