Forerunner

Somewhere off the coast of New Zealand to the north, amidst the darkness of the early morning, within the heavy fog and rough seas bounces a fishing trawler. Inscribed on the sides of the trawler in gold lettering reads ’Paradise’, a phrase hardly depicting the current environment. Amongst the spray of sea water and swaying crab cages and scurrying fisherman is seaman Daniel Gitkoh, the forerunner of the ’Paradise’. A freshly, stitched scar is seen across his right brow down to his cheek as is a bruised right eye.

The captain of the ’Paradise’ is manning the wheel within the safety of bridge, smoking a pipe and wearing a weathered napoleon style hat. The captain appeared calm and steady as he looked down upon the deck of his ship. Noticing the scurry of the men across the deck, the captain looks to the starboard to see his forerunner standing awkwardly atop of post. Smirking with a puff of smoke, the captain grabs the radio microphone and clicks it.

“All crew be weary of rouge waves”, the captain’s voice crackled through the loudspeakers. “Tune yourselves to the forerunner as he calls it! Mr Gitkoh...” He waited until Daniel’s attention was caught, looking upwards at the captain. “Remain alert, another swell is brewing up”. Daniel sluggishly gave a salute back in return to the captain’s bridge.

“Just another day in Paradise,” Daniel said aloud to himself. Looking back at the crew, seeing them load another crab cage to be set in the ocean. A small distasteful smile crept across his face. “And with this bunch too, another two shifts. O joy!” Daniel spots a large wave coming from the stern, though it appears blurred in his sight. Double taking himself with a strong rub of his eyes, his face turned in shock. “To the stern, brace yourselves!”

The scruffy-bearded, middle-aged crew working the deck were unaware of Daniel’s low cry from his lonesome post. The only crew member to notice him was an older fisherman, Old Joe who had only one leg. Adjusting his safety line around his weathered blue coat & sporting pair of bright yellow fishing pants. Old Joe gave a smile towards Daniel & repeated his call to the crew on deck. Bracing himself, Daniel white-knuckled stared at the wave hit the stern. But to his dismay, the impact was more so like a breath of air to a piece of paper, causing Daniel to shake his head in confusion.

“Better to be safe than sorry mate”, Old Joe chuckled in his Scottish accent. He carried a bucket of bait to the next set of crab cage, ready to be dropped overboard and into the rough Pacific.

“Wish we had James here protecting us from danger than this new guy”, a crewmate said aloud.

“I’m with ya on that mate,” said Jackson, a bully of Daniel’s, “This guy is not made for this life.”

“Yeh, he’s been calling it all wrong all morning,” replied the crewmember. “Perhaps he –“

“Port side Captain, slow ahead!” Daniel called aloud. A cracking sound on deck causes Daniel to look up towards the stern as the cabling to the crabs cages begin to buckle. Studying the cables holding the cages, Daniel’s vision becomes blurred and hesitates.

CRACK!

“Brace yourselves!” The captain announced through the vessel’s speakers.

A small rogue wave came from across the other side of the ’Paradise’, pushing the trawler to lean to port. The little cables cracked releasing a few of the cages from the top of the stacked pile down onto the deck. Old Joe echoed further instructions from the Captain.

“Down! Down!” The men working the deck took cover spreading themselves on the deck as the cages crashed down. One cage pushed a crew member between the side of the boat and it.

“Man down, port side!” Daniel said into his walkie-talkie to the captain.

“Accident on deck, secure the cages to the stern!” Captain said over the loudspeaker.

The half the crew members on deck including Daniel secured the crab cages whilst Old Joe and the remaining deck crew hauled the injured crew member out from cage. Jackson who stopped rigging the crab cages with the rest of crew, was close enough to Daniel to swing a right-hook at him collecting Daniel’s left cheek.

“Good call Gitrat!” Jackson spat at a collapsed Daniel.

“Stow it and secure the cages!” The captain said sternly through the microphone, “Then all deck crew below! Mr Gitkoh to the bridge! Daniel readjusted his jaw and eyed off Jackson who gave a strong stare back to the forerunner. Sea-spray being the only thing separating the two.

After an hour of the captain telling-off Daniel for his sloppy actions, he re-joined the crew below deck, head low and a red cheek. Daniel’s vision was altering focus creating a blurred hallway as he walked towards his quarters.

Need another, another pill will stop the shaking... It will stop the pain… I need another... I gotta reach my cabin. Daniel’s hands were shaking like a leaf as he reached for a glass of water from the side table and scoffs down the water. Breathing heavily, he resorted to laying on his cramped upper bunk bedding and starring upwards to the ceiling. The sounds of the waves begin to drown his mind, the swaying of the waves crashing and the faint sounds of seagull’s ringing in his ears. The shaking in his hand slows as he drifts into a sleep-like trance. The sounds of the waves continue as Daniel’s eye lids begin to flutter. Rooogguue Waaaavvee....

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Daniel startled jumps to his feet and smacks his head into the low ceiling. Looking around now half dazed he hears again the banging on the door.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Grub time Gitkoh!” Loudly said a crewmember outside his door. Daniel slumped down the bunk bed and reached for a new cleanish, oil-free shirt within his locker. Opening the locker, a packet of coffee-caffeine pills fall out and land on the floor in front of his feet. Daniel looks at them, looks at his hand and looks away as his hands begin to shake. Casting his head down, Daniel sighed & stuffs the pack of caffeine pills into his pocket, slamming the locker shut.

The Galley was loud as Daniel walked into the low lit, smoke hazed environment. The Paradise continued to sway from side to side as did the tankards with half-filled thick black coffee like substances. Daniel moved towards the food trays, unnoticed by his fellow crew members and began selecting items for his meal. Jackson bursts through the doorway yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Down to the drink with ya’s!” The louder crew members stand to their feet and clash their tankards on top of the tables as Jackson jumps up and attempts to dance. As Daniel attempts to ignore Jackson, the half-drunk crewmate spots Daniel and smirks. “And here’s the hero of the day lads! Daniel Gitrat! The slim of this rotten tub... Heya, want to warn us of anything coming? Jackson laughs with a mouthful from his tankard before he throws it at Daniel’s head. “Rogue Wave! Too late,” the rest of the crew laugh in response as Daniel remains silent. Jackson stumbles towards Daniel. “What!? Is something wrong Gitrat? Got no balls!” Jackson grabs the shoulders of Daniel and throws him to the side. Daniel is slow to move as Jackson kicks Daniel down to the floor. “You don’t belong here; you curse this ship!” Before Daniel can get free, Jackson kicks him in the stomach again before spitting on him. Daniel gasps for air as he is winded as the pack of pills fall out his inner pocket.

“That’s enough Jackson!” Jackson is stopped by the voice of Old Joe as he stands in the doorway, still wearing his attire. The mess hall becomes silent as the Old Joe makes his way towards Daniel. “Come on laddie, lets go for a wee walk... Continue your drink fellas, pick up isn’t far now.” Old Joe’s peg leg is all that can be heard as he walks Daniel out of the mess hall. Jackson looks down and sees the pack of pills from Daniel and picks it up. He grins as he holds it now. “You know if you allow them to walk over you like that they’re gonna continue treaten ya like fish yeller. Trust me, I know”.

“Easy for you to say, you haven’t nearly gotten one of them killed or continued to stuff up on deck.”

“Oh, I did, I made mistakes. A lot of them. That’s how we learn, we make mistakes and move on.” Old Joe began to shovel bait into some orange floaties as Daniel sat down beside the one-legged man.

“Bet you didn’t almost kill someone...”

“Na, I nearly killed meself working on deck. I acted like an ass, cost me leg.”

“Tough break.”

“I don’t believe so. Ya see, if ya leg is causing ya to stumble in life, you take the leg. Stops you from stumbling and causing others to stumble.”

“Pretty drastic I’d say.”

“Ah ye foolish skat! Not literally, its a metaphor. Ya see, I was a heavy drinker, as every Scotsman is. I used to drink before, during and after my shift. One day, me ship mates thought it be good to give me a bottle of moonshine. Got drunk, went on shift and I didn’t see it coming.”

“What did you do?”

“Traded the bottle of booze for me wife’s special sarsaparilla recipe & took time off to rest… So if I were you laddie, drop the caffeine pills.” Daniel looked up at Old Joe in shock to his last remark.

“How did you...?”

“I’ve seen ya hand trembling before like it is now. Being hyped all the time will only cause you more harm than the harm you think you will have without it… Sometimes life is like a storm, you can’t sail around it, ya can’t turn back, you gotta push through it to make it to the calmness on the other side. Recognise your stumbling block, else it’ll be like a large a millstone around ye neck and drown ye to the depths of the sea – oh and get some sleep.” Daniel nodded to Old Joe agreeing to change his ways & return to his quarters for rest. “And remember”, Old Joe added before Daniel vanished behind his door. “You’re made of stronger stuff laddie”.

Daniel awoke to a rougher boat ride than before the storm had been formed above the Paradise. The skies were almost black and the wild-water dark grey with only the bobbing of the ’Paradise’ and its white hull broke the dark colours.

The captain still smoking a pipe, grit his teeth as he spun the wheel and throttled the engines to control the ’Paradise’.

“All hands to deck, lifelines on and forerunner to the bow! We’re rescuing the Nautilas crew today!” Daniel jumped out of his bunk, strapping up his weather jacket and tightening his boots as the ship rocked heavily. As he rocked side-to-side out of his room, Jackson blocked the hallway for Daniel, storming towards him.

“Take these, its stronger than your lolly-coffee pills. I’ve taken four already and I’m not shaking like a leaf.” Jackson said half-dazed and hiccupping, holding up a pack of foiled tablets in Daniel’s face before shoving it into his chest and running topside of the Paradise before hurling overboard. Daniel was left standing in the hallway holding the pills, looking intently at them. Shrugging his shoulders and smiling, Daniel tossed aside the pills, stomping on them before running to the deck.

“Port-Side man in the water! All hands to the Port side!” Daniel announced loud and proud for the deck crew to hear. “Look alive men! We got