It was one of those days that made it all worthwhile. The wind blew lightly onto the side of the boat, so gently that the hull was hardly heeled over at all despite the full sails. The dark blue sea undulated rhythmically beneath the boat and the sun shone brilliantly through the clouds, its rays highlighting the remaining moisture in the air and projecting a pastel rainbow in a perfect half circle across the western sky. She rushed down below and fetched her camera, tried to take a photo of him in the foreground but he wouldn’t co-operate. He sat hunched at the back of the boat, fishing rod clenched in his hands, stubbornly ignoring nature’s splendour. She took photos anyway though she knew her camera could never truly capture all the heavenly colours.
Mind you, it hadn’t started out that way. There’d been an awful storm last night and most of today, the boat heaving about all over the place and she’d been as sick as a dog. As she usually was in very bad weather. Not him, of course, he was never seasick. Later on, after the storm eased, he’d caught a fish. A yellow fin tuna, nice and small, not so big they’d end up wasting half of it. He cleaned and filleted it and she cooked it for supper.
She sighed inwardly as she pounded the potatoes with powdered milk. It was a wonderful life in many ways and she’d had an incredible time cruising with him. But it was too late for regrets now. She had told him how she felt earlier, after the storm. They’d argued, as usual. They fought about everything lately and it was always about nothing at all, but essentially it always boiled down to the same thing. But this time, because she already had the decision in her mind, she came out with it in the heat of the moment, although she’d intended to wait until tomorrow by which time they would have reached land.
She poked her head out through the companionway stairs and shouted towards the back of the boat, ‘Supper’s ready!’