The young sailor sat alone one night, his mind on the joys that waited ahead on land once the long voyage had ended; his pockets ride with gold and treasures. The sea, cold and restless, caught his attention as the ship began to slowly slip into a salty mist. It rugged at his skin, pulled at his eyes, but he could not look away.
A light appeared off in the thickest part of the mist.
The sailor went to ring the bell, but the sea suddenly went calm and the light much closer. There was a sudden calm and the sailor soon found himself returning to the railing of the ship to stare at the light as it rolled and danced closer.
It didn’t take long for the sailor to make out a small rowboat making its way toward him. At first it was a mere silhouette, but within moments he could make out a figure standing at the bow of the bright vessel. Two oats floated on either side as it approached, though the figure stood still and did not row.
As the rowboat finally came aside the larger ship, the sailor called out. Nothing. He called out again.
In the sea mist, the sailor could feel a new heaviness. The man in the rowboat began to climb aboard. His fingers raking and clawing the sides of the ship. Like many men, scraping finger to the bone as they go down with a ship. It rang out loud, and the sailor tried to turn away but he could not.
The man came aboard. His eyes...
The sailor could not refuse. He saw the flash of the mans face as he beckoned the sailor to follow back down to the rowboat. There was much more in the mist, further they must sail. The sailor had to know. He found himself in the rowboat.
Together, they made their way into the sea mist, the light fading off and away with them as they departed.
The following morning, as the men prepared for the Captains morning rounds, they found a young sailor.
He had frozen to death in the night.