Yesterday I was on the boat, and here is what I saw:
I was looking down, into the water. I was on a high-speed catamaran (remember?), but no one was puking this time. The water was rushing by outside the window, blue, turquoise, foaming. And then I saw a fish.
It looked like a marlin, or a tuna. Do those fish even look anything alike? I have no idea, they are just the two names that popped into my head as I recall this fish. It had a long snout, pointy and silver. If a fish could have a mohawk on its back, this one did. It glinted, ridged and rigid. I swear a beady eye looked back at me.
Now it gets interesting. The fish was out of water. It was flying. It was flying alongside the boat, and it was moving fast, as fast as the boat. Here’s what I was thinking.
“Oh my god, there’s a fish. Wow, is it really moving that fast? That thing is moving as fast as the boat. Whoa. Wait, is it a bird?”
Just then, it dunked under, nose first, disappearing into the frothing wake from the speedboat. It plunked in deliberately, assertively. It was gone. And that’s when I thought- “Hold on just a second. That thing was in the air for way too long.”
Thus proceeded several minutes of questioning myself on what I had just seen. Now, look back on the first dialogue I had with myself about the fish, the one beginning, “Oh my god, there‘s a fish.” It’s not long, but if you read it again and consider that the fish was in the air, moving as fast as the boat, the entire time I was thinking that, well then, that’s a pretty long time.
Then I thought, “Maybe someone was fishing from on top of the boat, maybe that ‘fish’ was just a lure. That would explain why it was moving so fast.” But it wouldn’t explain why it ducked under the water like that, gone, out of sight. It plunged nose-first in, because it wanted to. Because it was a fish, returning to water. It wanted to swim.