The early morning sun peeked through the cracks of the worn wooden shutters, casting slivers of light across the sparsely furnished room. An old man slept fitfully on a thin mattress in the corner, his weathered face lined with years of struggle. As the rays reached his eyes, he awoke with a start.
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Manuel blinked a few times, allowing his vision to adjust. He slowly sat up, joints creaking in protest, as he prepared for another day. Getting to his feet, he shuffled to the basin in the corner and splashed some water on his face. The cool water was refreshing, but did little to invigorate his tired body.
After a modest breakfast of bread and coffee, Manuel made his way down to the docks. The air smelled of salt and fish as seagulls circled overhead, cawing loudly. Manuel inhaled deeply, feeling the familiar sense of excitement and anticipation that came before a fishing trip. Though old in years, his love for the sea remained strong.
Manuel’s small fishing boat, Esperanza, bobbed gently in her slip. Her blue paint was faded and chipped, but she was still seaworthy. Manuel began preparing his gear, checking his handmade nets and making sure he had enough bait. Once the boat was loaded, he started the engine and headed out into the open waters.
The sea was calm, with only a slight chop on the surface. Manuel steered toward his favorite fishing spot, a reef about 5 miles offshore. He kept one hand on the wheel and the other shielding his eyes from the bright sun as he scanned the water.
After dropping anchor, Manuel baited his line and cast it out. The hours drifted by peacefully as he waited for a bite. Fish were scarce today, but Manuel didn’t mind. Just being here on the water was enough for him. It was where he felt most at home.
Most of the village fishermen had newer, faster boats that allowed them to cover more distance and haul in bigger catches. But Manuel had fished these waters since he was a boy and he knew them like the back of his weathered hand. The others may have called him old-fashioned, but his intimate knowledge of the area paid off. While their nets often came up empty these days, he always managed to scrape by with just enough to sell at market.
A nibble on the line pulled Manuel out of his thoughts. He felt the pole bend slightly under the weight of a fish. Sitting up straighter, he began reeling it in, relishing the fight. A flash of silver broke the surface as a large dorado appeared. Manuel expertly maneuvered it alongside the boat and scooped it up in his net. At 15 pounds, it would fetch a good price at the market. Manuel said a quick prayer of thanks for this blessing from the sea.
The sun dipped lower toward the horizon as Manuel pointed the Esperanza back to shore. He could already picture the pride in his granddaughter’s eyes when he brought home this prize. She worried about him out here alone, but the sea was in Manuel’s blood. He was born to it and he would die one day in its embrace.
Pulling up to the docks, Manuel tied off his boat then headed toward the fish market. Vendors were starting to close up their stalls, but old Ricardo waved when he saw Manuel approach.
“Caught something good today?” Ricardo called out in greeting.
“Just the one, but she’s a beauty,” Manuel replied, holding up his catch.
Ricardo let out an impressed whistle. “That’ll bring a good price. I’ll give you $25 for it.”
Manuel paused, considering the offer. That money would buy some much needed supplies for the house, but it was less than this dorado was worth. Manuel looked Ricardo in the eye.
“You know this is worth more, my friend. $40 seems fair.”
Ricardo scowled slightly at the counteroffer, but Manuel held his gaze steadily. With a sigh, Ricardo rummaged in his cashbox.
"You drive a hard bargain, old man," he muttered, handing over the bills. Manuel just winked as he pocketed the money and turned toward home.
The house was quiet when Manuel entered. His granddaughter Alma must still be at her evening shift at the restaurant. Going to the kitchen, Manuel laid out two fillets from the dorado. He would fry them up with some plantains for dinner and save the rest.
As if on cue, the front door opened and Alma came in, looking weary after a long day. “Papa, you’re back!” she said warmly, coming over to give him a careful hug.
“Fresh caught today,” he said proudly, motioning to the fish.
“Wonderful! I’ll start cooking.”
Over their meal, Manuel recounted the day’s adventures to Alma, who listened attentively. She was happy to see the familiar sparkle in his eyes as he recalled the thrill of wrestling with that big fish.
“The sea, she still calls to me," Manuel said wistfully. "I belong out on those waters. Always have, always will."
Alma sighed, looking down at her plate. “I worry so much about your health, Papa. And your safety out there alone...”
Manuel reached over and grasped her hand. “Not alone, I have your prayers. But it’s my time on the water that keeps these old bones going.”
Alma nodded reluctantly. She knew the sea was her grandfather’s greatest love. His face lit up out on the boat in a way it never did on land. She had to accept that it gave his life meaning, even as her own heart was troubled.
Over the following weeks, Manuel continued his routine of fishing most days and selling his catches at the market. Some days he returned empty-handed, while others brought an abundant haul. Regardless, he felt most free with the sun on his back and the salty spray on his face as he chased the waves.
One calm morning, Manuel headed out as day was just breaking. The air was crisp and cool as he motored toward the reef. It was farther than he usually went these days, but he felt lucky.
After anchoring, he cast his line and waited. An hour passed without any bites. Manuel shifted uncomfortably, his back aching from sitting too long. Grimacing, he reeled in his line to try another spot.
Suddenly, he was nearly yanked out of the boat as the line went taut. The pole bent dangerously close to snapping as whatever was on the hook pulled with incredible force. Manuel strained against it with all his might. This was no normal fish – it had to be massive!
Slowly, he gained ground, reeling the line in inch by inch. His muscles burned with the effort. How long could this epic battle go on? With a final heave, a dark shape appeared beneath the boat. It was a gigantic marlin, well over 1,000 pounds, the catch of a lifetime. Manuel reached for the net, his heart pounding.
As he leaned over for a better look, a stabbing pain shot through his chest, radiating down his left arm. Manuel cried out, dropping the pole as his hands seized up in agony. No! Not now, when he was so close!
Vision blurring, Manuel crumpled to the floor of the boat. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard a loud splash as the marlin escaped. As the pain overwhelmed him, he sensed the boat drifting aimlessly on the current.
Manuel closed his eyes, a feeling of profound peace washing over him. He had lived a long, full life on his beloved sea. It seemed only fitting that it would claim him at the end. With his last ounce of strength, he whispered “Thank you,” as the ocean gently carried him away.
When Manuel did not return that evening, Alma was frantic. At dawn, the Coast Guard found the Esperanza, empty and adrift. There was no sign of Manuel except for his tangled fishing lines. They conducted an extensive search, but no body was recovered.
The entire village turned out for Manuel’s memorial service to honor the old fisherman who had spent his life wedded to the sea he loved. Alma stood quietly, tears streaming down her face. While her heart grieved his loss, she found comfort picturing her grandfather’s spirit sailing blissfully across the sparkling waters, free at last.
