Doodle Adventure

The other day I was in a meeting for work. It was about 2:30 in the afternoon, I had eaten lunch about an hour ago, and I’m trying to stick with just one cup of coffee a day. This silly little rule is mostly for concern about the color of my teeth and creating a caffeine addiction. I’ve seen people deal with them before and I don’t want to be part of that group.

Since it is very unprofessional to put your head down and start drooling in a peaceful sleep, the next best thing I can do it doodle. One, it pulls out my 3^rd grade artistry, it keeps my mind from humming circus music, and still allows me to sort of pay attention.  Below is the picture I drew. I felt it was kind of entertaining. My boss looked over kind of shook his head. I wasn’t scolded so I guess that means I’m okay….? Anyway, I figured a nice task would be to try and write a short story about it. So here is my attempt.

My doodle. (I cannot figure out how to rotate the picture.)

“This would be a great adventure! I can be a kick ass pirate like Johnny Depp. It would be great to have some peace and quiet; I need some time to myself. Sure I can drive a boat, sure I know what I’m doing,” thought Scott as holds up his help me sign.

He wasn’t sure where he was. His plan for that day had been to escape from his nagging girlfriend, his job that didn’t appreciate him, and the mother that wouldn’t stop whining about not having any grandkids yet. If he had to have that conversation with her one more time, he might lose it.

So he did what any person does in that situation, grab a wad of cash and go make some random adventures happen.

Scott’s day had started out in a spa with a nice massage, sipping on fruity drinks, having his body rubbed down by a nice lady, possibly take a nap.  However, he didn’t get any further then the counter. The receptionist told him that they were all booked for the next 6 weeks, but if he would like she could pencil him in on the 27^th? Scott kindly declined and went to go try something else.

Scott had always thought about going hot air ballooning. Hang out in a basket, see the city from a new perspective, the wind in his air, the sun on his face, yes! That’s it! He quickly did a Google search on his phone and pulled up the nearest hot air balloon companies. He called the first number and the phone rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang. After seven rings he gave up. He tried the next location. After only two rings the person picked up. However, he informed him that last time they crash landed in a Christmas Tree farm and their balloon was still being repaired. Scott thanked him for his time and tried lucky phone number three. After a few tentative rings, the company picked up. They said they could take him out, but it would have to be later in that day. It is best to fly in the mornings and later in the evenings. Scott scheduled a flight for later that evening.

Scott looked at his watch and realized he had about six hours to kill before he was airborne. He knew a great oyster bar on the beach so decided to grab a beer and chill there for a little bit.

The restaurant was defiantly a hole in the wall. It smelled like fish, had a faded picture of Poseidon painted on one of the walls.  All the chairs were miss-matched, wobbled, and were placed around tables that were made out of wooden barrels. The bar was slick from years of use and pictures of people holding up prize fish were hung on the wall. The patio seating was roped off with large boat lines, and had an amazing view of the water and piers. Scott sat down, order a dozen oysters and a large beer.

As he was  almost done with his first dozen oysters when a weathered fellow came up and sat down at his table.

Odd, thought Scott.

“G’Day matey,” said the odd fellow.

“Hi?”

“You look like the kinda fella who likes adventures.”

“Sometimes.”

“ Well today’s your lucky day. I’ve got me a fine fishing boat, loaded with poles, bait, drinks, and it can be your’ for a few hours, for only $200. What do ya say?”

Scott looked down at the odd stranger, the rest of his oysters, and his almost empty beer. Checking the time he still had about five hours until he was air born, sure, why not start off in the water?

“Sure, I’ll do it. Where is this boat of yours?” said Scott.

“Right this way son,” said the odd fellow.

Scott quickly paid his tab, slurped the last oyster, drained his beer and headed off with the random stranger.

Just a few piers later they were approaching the fine fishing boat. It actually wasn’t too bad. Like the strange, dare we call him, captain had said. A cooler for drinks and snacks, fishing poles, tackle box, and bait. All good to go. Scott gave him his money stepped in the boat.

“Do you know how to drive?”

“Yes, my dad had a boat when I was a teenage, we went out all the time,” said Scott.

“Alright, well the best fishing it just out the bay and to your right. I’ll be seeing you in a while.” With a wave the “captain” walked away.

Scott, took all the ropes tying him to the pier off, gently pushed the boat out of the slip, and strated to go down the creek towards the bay.

“I got this,” thought Scott. He actually had never driven before. Every time he was on the lake with his dad, he had never been allowed to drive. Today, he was a man, today he was a pirate man! Once he was clear of boats, he started to check the food and drinks.

“Beer, soda, water, no rum. Why is the Rum always gone?” he thought. Feeling pretty proud of himself, he turned right into the bay, put some bait on the poles, threw them out in attempt to see if he could catch anything. He pulled out a beer, put his feet up and just enjoyed the sunshine and cool sea breeze.

The next this Scott  knows is a giant fog horn noise going off behind him. He must have fallen asleep. A big ol’ cargo ship had snuck up on him while he drifted and slept. He would be run over soon if he didn’t get out of the way. He quickly tried to get the boat to start. Nothing. The key  turned but there was just a little clicking sound coming form the motor. Scott went over gave it a few good thwacks and tired a gain. This time after a small protest the engine start up. Scott threw the throttle wide open and just tried to get out of the ship’s way.

Two of the poles were jerked out of their holder with the sudden movement to get out of the way. The cooler slid to the back of the boat, and Scotts fingers ached from the death grip he had on the wheel. They were almost clear of the ship’s shadow when out of no where a green clanking bouy appeared. Scott was going too fast to slow down and because he was new and so nervous, he jerked the wheel too hard and flipped the boat.

It probably flipped about two or three times before it broke in half and Scott was staring at the water in disbelieve. He was only a little ways away from a sand bar that looked like it had trees. He figured that would be a better place to wait for help then floating on part of a boat. So he kicked off and swam over to the island to wait for help.

Panting, soaking, and exhausted from his swim, Scott rested on the beach and does a personal inventory. No cell phone, no wallet, no keys. Nothing’s broken and he’s alive. Once he’s able Scott gets up to discover what is on this island. There is a small fire pit that looks like it had been used in the last week or so. A bunch of drift wood, and a bunch of trash. He manages to pull out his Boy Scout skills and start a fire so he can dry off faster. Once that’s done, write HELP ME on a large piece of drift wood. By this time his broken boat has drifted ashore and he bunkers down for help to arrive.