The Little Boat

A little story post about the end of school term

The little boat chugged wearily into the harbour.

His paintwork a little scuffed.

His wood a little creaky.

It was the end of a journey, and there was to be a brief interlude before the next trip.

A bigger trip.

Somewhere new.

Further away.

The sailors fussed and flapped.

“We must prepare you for the next voyage. Make sure you’re ready.”

One said.

They attempted to sand his rough edges so they could be more easily oiled and varnished.

They adjusted his sails for the stronger winds they knew lay ahead.

They looked for holes that needed fixing.

…….And found them.

They did repairs that didn’t really need doing.

………Just incase.

All the sailors could talk about was the last journey, the next journey.

How far he’d come,

How far he’d go.

All the little boat wanted to do, was anchor and refuel. For little boats sail best when they are rested.

The little boat longed for others to prize him as the boat he was right now, not the speed boat, grand ship or a fancy yacht others maybe dreamed of.

He didn’t want his edges sanded, his sail tinkered with.

He knew there would be many trips ahead, times he’d have to change direction, that he’d possibly capsize.

But he yearned to learn of oceans not through smothering layers of protective coating, but rather by watching dolphins play and seabirds dive. By observing other boats.

“I do not want to be resilient.”

He told the sailors.

“I wish instead for gentle breezes to guide me, for people to turn off the engine when they see I’ve had enough. Let me drift a little, enjoy a few sunsets.”

The sailors put down their tools and listened.

“The sea, must get ready for me.”

He told them.

“For I am the one who will create ripples upon it.

I am young and intend to make waves.

And what I need right now, more than anything, more than advice or adaptations, more than fears or praise is simply this……..

A safe harbour.”