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[Backdated to the morning after the beach party]
It's a pretty normal morning, as normal as 3am at a fishing dock off the coast of Maine can be. The wind's picked up significantly since yesterday, something the boys on the boat take notice of. High winds mean more hazardous conditions for an already hazardous job.
Jason leaves Alfredo in his usual spot at the bench on the dock. A quick kiss on the muzzle and a ruffle of the dog's head and Jason boards the boat. He eats his breakfast, a large bowl of oatmeal with bananas and three muffins, in the cabin quickly as the boat's captain barks out every worker's orders for the day. Jason's job is his usual as of late. With the end of the season fast approaching, they're placing pots into the water again, a last effort to hit it rich. This means they have stacks of pots on deck, reaching ten high. This also means the old crane gets stuck and ropes get tangled together. This means someone gets to climb the unbearably high stacks to help untangle the pots and help hook the crane to each cage. And this is Jason's job.
He's not afraid of heights, he trusts his crew, and his strength allows him to quickly scale the stack anytime one of the pots gets caught. He's also one of the few on the boat patient enough to sit atop a cage and carefully untie the knots made slippery by the water. He doesn't mind this new task, he actually enjoys it. It's a weird rush to climb that high and the view? Unbeatable. He's just thankful today, the skies seem clear. Even if the wind is high.
After a few hours, the boat arrives at its fishing spot, the crew has eaten, and ten pots are baited and tossed onto the sea bed before the crane moves to pick up a cage and accidently pulls two from the stack. The man operating the crane, Miguel, gives Jason a nod, and he tosses the bait in his hands back into a bucket, moving quickly to climb the stack.
Speed is integral in this job. The quicker they are, the more pots they set, the more pots they pull, the more catch they have. The captain has a very specific schedule for each day and goals for how many pots they need to have set by the time they reach shore again. In no time, Jason has climbed the stack of cages and straddles the second pot that was accidentally pulled. He tugs his gloves off with his teeth, quickly untangling the rope and giving Miguel a thumbs up to let him know he's free. As Miguel hooks the crane onto the pot again, pulling it free, their captain gets on the bull horn.
"Jay! Stay up there and hook the pots. Have a feelin' they're a mess." Jason gives the man a nod and spends the next hour of work on top of the stack, the wind and the waves tipping their boat back and forth.
It makes for a harder job, the ebb and flow of the waves. It's even harder when the waves pick up so much they're now splashing over the side of the vessel. Jason, like the others on deck, pulls his hood up over his head, not that it'll really do much good. He's already soaked. He reaches out and grabs another pot as the crane lifts it away from the stack. It isn't tied well and with the wind, the cage is swinging precariously over the men on the deck below. The last thing he wants is the rope to come undone. He tightens the knot, gives Manuel the sign, and moves out of the way, balancing himself on the next stack.
It's then that he hears shouting, quickly followed by the boat tilting almost completely onto its side. Jason grabs onto the metal of the pots, cutting his fingers on the harsh wire, but he saves himself from slipping off his feet and onto the deck below. The boat rights itself, but just as he gets back to his feet, he realizes he's an idiot and he's forgotten something very big and very important.
The crane.
With the drastic shift in the boat, the crane has started swinging wildly, pot still very much attached. There's not much poor Manuel can do to get it under control. And his eyes go wide and he cries out just when Jason stands because that's when the pot swings and hits the man square in the gut, causing Jason to stumble back and slip right off the side of the boat.
He hears the distant sound of a commotion before the rush of water hits his ears and his hearing is muffled. He can't breath. Jason knows he just got the wind knocked out of him and that's kind of something a human needs in the water. All he can think before he loses consciousness is "Thank God I'm not in Alaska."
It's a pretty normal morning, as normal as 3am at a fishing dock off the coast of Maine can be. The wind's picked up significantly since yesterday, something the boys on the boat take notice of. High winds mean more hazardous conditions for an already hazardous job.
Jason leaves Alfredo in his usual spot at the bench on the dock. A quick kiss on the muzzle and a ruffle of the dog's head and Jason boards the boat. He eats his breakfast, a large bowl of oatmeal with bananas and three muffins, in the cabin quickly as the boat's captain barks out every worker's orders for the day. Jason's job is his usual as of late. With the end of the season fast approaching, they're placing pots into the water again, a last effort to hit it rich. This means they have stacks of pots on deck, reaching ten high. This also means the old crane gets stuck and ropes get tangled together. This means someone gets to climb the unbearably high stacks to help untangle the pots and help hook the crane to each cage. And this is Jason's job.
He's not afraid of heights, he trusts his crew, and his strength allows him to quickly scale the stack anytime one of the pots gets caught. He's also one of the few on the boat patient enough to sit atop a cage and carefully untie the knots made slippery by the water. He doesn't mind this new task, he actually enjoys it. It's a weird rush to climb that high and the view? Unbeatable. He's just thankful today, the skies seem clear. Even if the wind is high.
After a few hours, the boat arrives at its fishing spot, the crew has eaten, and ten pots are baited and tossed onto the sea bed before the crane moves to pick up a cage and accidently pulls two from the stack. The man operating the crane, Miguel, gives Jason a nod, and he tosses the bait in his hands back into a bucket, moving quickly to climb the stack.
Speed is integral in this job. The quicker they are, the more pots they set, the more pots they pull, the more catch they have. The captain has a very specific schedule for each day and goals for how many pots they need to have set by the time they reach shore again. In no time, Jason has climbed the stack of cages and straddles the second pot that was accidentally pulled. He tugs his gloves off with his teeth, quickly untangling the rope and giving Miguel a thumbs up to let him know he's free. As Miguel hooks the crane onto the pot again, pulling it free, their captain gets on the bull horn.
"Jay! Stay up there and hook the pots. Have a feelin' they're a mess." Jason gives the man a nod and spends the next hour of work on top of the stack, the wind and the waves tipping their boat back and forth.
It makes for a harder job, the ebb and flow of the waves. It's even harder when the waves pick up so much they're now splashing over the side of the vessel. Jason, like the others on deck, pulls his hood up over his head, not that it'll really do much good. He's already soaked. He reaches out and grabs another pot as the crane lifts it away from the stack. It isn't tied well and with the wind, the cage is swinging precariously over the men on the deck below. The last thing he wants is the rope to come undone. He tightens the knot, gives Manuel the sign, and moves out of the way, balancing himself on the next stack.
It's then that he hears shouting, quickly followed by the boat tilting almost completely onto its side. Jason grabs onto the metal of the pots, cutting his fingers on the harsh wire, but he saves himself from slipping off his feet and onto the deck below. The boat rights itself, but just as he gets back to his feet, he realizes he's an idiot and he's forgotten something very big and very important.
The crane.
With the drastic shift in the boat, the crane has started swinging wildly, pot still very much attached. There's not much poor Manuel can do to get it under control. And his eyes go wide and he cries out just when Jason stands because that's when the pot swings and hits the man square in the gut, causing Jason to stumble back and slip right off the side of the boat.
He hears the distant sound of a commotion before the rush of water hits his ears and his hearing is muffled. He can't breath. Jason knows he just got the wind knocked out of him and that's kind of something a human needs in the water. All he can think before he loses consciousness is "Thank God I'm not in Alaska."
