The Great Salty Beast

Katsushika Hokusai, Under the Wave off Kanagawa also known as the Great Wave, from the series Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji, Japanese, Edo period, about 1830–31. Woodblock print; ink and color on paper. William Sturgis Bigelow Collection.

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Salt.

In my hair, in my teeth, it's even soaking into my pores. I've never wondered what it would feel like to be a cured meat, but now I know. Masaru looks up toward the sky, past my shoulder, but still rowing.

"Looks like rain," he shouts over the slapping waves.

I glance back. The heavens are as a vessel of water exposed to a single drop of ink. Plumes of black swirling clouds begin to swell quickly. Soon the inky black saturates the entire sky. Despite the humidity, a chill crawls up my sticky spine.

"Row harder!" I shout to the group of seven men.

A lonely rain drop pelts my cheek. I wipe it away but I can't erase the sinking feeling in my soul. Sure enough, the lone raindrop is not alone for long.

An immense curtain of rain slithers towards us, descending on us as if we've trespassed onto it's territory.

"Faster!" I am now competing to be heard over both the rain and the waves.

Lightning cracks across the sky and that's when I feel it. A sensation that can only be described as an enormous monster taking a giant indrawn breath. The waters under and around us are receding. Masaru's jaw slowly falls in astonishment. I'm not looking but I can imagine the swell behind me.

Before I face my end, I want to take in one last precious mundane moment. Their faces. These men, my comrades. The salt hardening their beards. The Ocean spray washing across their faces. The nets of fish tangled at the bottom of the boat. The feeling of the sea soaked ropes against my feet. The rough hewn oars in my hands. None of this will ever be again.

Looking to my left, I can see Mt. Fuji looming in the distance, quietly observing our predicament but undisturbed by it. If only it would take up arms, race to our aide, but I know it won't. Fuji's eternal desire is peace and nothing else.

Resigning to my fate, I twist around in my seat to meet the creature reducing seven grown men to mere infants. Before my weary eyes stands a monstrous wave fifteen meters high. Around the abomination's lip are frothy seafoam claws poised to strike. From trough to peak, the withdrawing water's deep shade of indigo is creating a massive indignant jaw. A smaller adjacent wave acts as a hand, lifting the boat ahead of us to the mouth of the beast. Sea water inundates its poor skeletal frame, demolishing it to splinters. They're gone, devoured by the demon.

We're next. Our boat is being pulled in slowly. Even the strength of eight men cannot fight against the power of such an awesome force of nature. Our oars are feeble twigs. We are puny ants in its shadow. There's nothing we can do but wait.

The beast pulls us closer to its mouth. Ocean spray splatters our forlorn faces. I think of little Jin. How this morning he followed me to the harbor and didn't want me to leave.

What if I hadn't? What if on this day I had said no to destiny and made my own path? What if I threw my arms around Jin and announced we would go back home, play some games, and eat a meal with Mother. Instead, I told him I had to go.

"I must be the man, and bring home food for the family. So even though I want to stay and play in the sun with you, I have to go make a living, so you can be healthy."

"I want to be a fisherman like you," he declared while trailing close behind me. His small gait barely keeping up.

"Go home, Jin. I will see you when I get back."

He dropped his shoulders and sulked a little, but he went home. He's a good boy. I hope he remains good. May my demise not darken his soul. May he never see a fishing net.

Sea water washes over me. I am inside the monster's mouth. I try to hold my breath, but the force of the waters pushes me too far below the surface. Bubbles release from my lips. I am losing time.

I try to swim back to the surface but my exhaustion is great. A little closer now but not enough. I can see some light, but my oxygen is diminishing. Fighting the instinct to inhale, I beat the water back and advance a little further. I've utilized every last ounce of strength but my efforts are proving to be futile. The distance to the surface elongates. Blackness encroaches my vision.

I inhale. Icy knives stab my lungs. The darkness encircling my vision saturates everything I see. I can no longer move.

I'm lost.