By JD Clapp
Heading home from a tuna fishing trip, cruising at 20 knots, the boat slammed into the unseen whale, became airborne, and capsized to the portside. Jim was dead, his head smashed on impact. I was in the water.
Clinging to the Igloo cooler, I watched the prow go under at dusk, miles into Mexican waters, too far to swim to the Islands. I prayed Jim’s boat had an emergency beacon.
Not far away, the whale thrashed on the surface, bleeding heavily. Hypothermia and sharks lurked.
At dawn, sitting on the dead whale, I heard the chopper’s distant thrum. I finally cried.
Exciting microscopic sized story. I hope the writer keeps sending them. I enjoyed it a lot.
A very good story. I enjoyed this.
You packed a lot of action, imagery, and intensity into a small story. Well done!
That’s a whale of a story. Well done.
Woah, that’s a good ‘un! More from you please!
Thrilling in a few words.
A sort of miniature Hemingway.
Very nice! Thanks!
Good story – human nature when in a crisis.