2737.  The fishing trip

The thing was I didn’t know anything about driving a boat. A fisherman friend had invited me one Sunday to go fishing out at sea and I said I would enjoy that. We went what I thought was “way out to sea” but he said it wasn’t far from shore at all. But it was far enough for me to have to pretend that I wasn’t scared.

I didn’t catch anything – to be honest I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. My friend caught a snapper. One fish is enough for two people’s dinner, but no, we had to try for more. I just wanted to get out of this “petrified at the huge expanse of sea” scenario and go home.

Suddenly a great big tentacle came over the side of the boat. There was sort of something like suction pads on it. The tentacle coiled itself around my friend’s leg and dragged him over the side into the water. He disappeared. I presume he drowned or was eaten by the octopus or whatever it was.

I was terrified out of my skin. Was the tentacle going to come for me? I didn’t have a clue how to start the boat engine or how to drive it. In the end I figured it was like driving a car. I turned the ignition on, somehow put the thing into gear, and pointed the boat towards the shore. Things got a bit rough with the occasional wave but I kept going. When that tentacle came up over the side again I threw the snapper into the water and that seem to distract it from pursuing me as prey.

Eventually I made it to shore, although I didn’t know how to park it properly. There were a few people on the pier, and when I called out they were able to help.

The first thing I did was inform the police. I told them exactly what I’ve just told you now. I was extremely shaken and credible. But I couldn’t help but think that my “friend” won’t be doing a line with my girlfriend anymore.


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