I want to tell you the time I nearly got killed while fishing and quit. I fish for a living, own my own boat, love the sea. It’s weird because fishing doesn’t run in the family or anything, dad’s an electrician and mom picks up odd jobs in retail. Maybe I watched too much SpongeBob? I don’t know.

Anyway, when I was old enough, I moved near Jacksonville. I’m from Orlando originally but the ocean called, so I started working as a deckhand for other people. Some small boats, some big boats. Heard some crazy stories.

Mostly it was just some dumbass getting himself caught on a line and nearly drowning. Other times boats got caught out in the storms, trying to fish when there were fewer boats. Heard about one guy getting impaled by a swordfish but no one really believed that one. No shark attacks though. Which I thought was weird.

Then you’d get some of your crazier stories. Usually told by some drunk, crusty old sea-dog, going on about ghost ships or the ‘black carpet’ on the bottom of the ocean.

As you can probably tell, I didn’t pay too much heed to those type of stories.

Anyway, after a few years of tying knots, getting yelled at by the captain, and getting slapped in the face with a flounder, I managed to buy a small vessel off Rufus, a fisherman his entire life, he finally gave it up and retired.

“There’s one thing I got to warn you about son.” He said as he was signing the deed over, “Don’t ever, ever take it out during a fog. There’s somethings out there you just don’t want to mess.”

I didn’t say it at the time but in my head I was thinking, okay old timer, you’ve been out in the sea for far too long.

Look, before you bite my head, we all think that and he was vague as. But I wished I listened to him.

The boat was pretty reliable and for a few years I had a good thing going. During the busier times of the year I’d hire a deck hand from the nearby towns or Jacksonville, usually college kids looking for something to do during the summer. But most of the time I could fish by myself. The boat was small and I wasn’t overly ambitious about making a lot of money.

But there was this one day, heavy fog, but the fish were pretty good. Everyone was getting full hauls. I had hired Mark, he was just fresh out of high school and really green. But he was a good kid and listened to me. So after about two months I got the bright idea to go out during the fog.

Most sensible captains didn’t. The fog was really thick. Like couldn’t see your hands in front of you thick. Like couldn’t see the boat you were going to ram into thick. Like you couldn’t see the rope that was about to pull you overboard and then the guy on the boat couldn’t see you in the water to throw the life buoy thick.

You can probably guess that it wasn’t a good idea to go out. But I was still young and dumb and Mark was even younger and dumber. So we did.

Despite the heavy fog in the morning the sea was still calm. Not too much trouble. But the fish weren’t biting. We’d been out there for an hour and I think we caught one trout that we took pity on and threw in a bucket of seawater.

“I’m going to name him Trent. Trent the trout.” Mark mused. He could barely see me rolling my eyes in the fog and I was starting to think this trip was a bust.

It was when I was in the cabin and Mark was out on the deck that I heard the roar. Roar wouldn’t describe it properly. It was like a whale’s call- that low, sad sound, but malevolent. I didn’t know what made it. You know how I said SpongeBob inspired me to become a fisherman, well I was kind of obsessed with marine life. I could tell a bottlenose dolphin from an Atlantic spotted dolphin just based on its call. I could tell an orca from a humpback.

But I’ve never heard a call like this. I was unsettled. But not panicked. Unlike Mark who, in the fog, had somehow managed to find the cabin and burst through the door.

That scared the crap out of me.

“What’s wrong with you?” I said trying to restrain myself.

“Did you not just hear that?” Mark said exasperated.

“Yes. I heard it. Stop freaking out.”

“What was it?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t know what it was but I thought it was a good time more than any to go back to shore.

I was just ready to turn the engine back on when the boat rocked and my hand slipped from the ignition. There was a small wave that crashed into the port side and splashed onto the deck.

“Oh no! Trent!”

Mark ran out to get back his stupid trout. But I just stood there wondering where that wave came from. It was calm all day, no storms in sight, but now?

I turned the ignition back on and the engine came to life. I was just about to steer us back to shore when five-foot wave came crashing in on the starboard side. I couldn’t see him through the fog, but I definitely heard Mark hit the deck with a thud. We both wore lifejackets, but I was still on edge about him going overboard. I really didn’t want the only thing I fished out of the ocean today to be my only crewmember.

“Mark. You alright?”

“Ow.” He responded through the fog.

Then we heard that roar again. It’s sad, low, intimidating sound. It was louder. A lot closer this time.

Now I was starting to panic.

“Mark, get back in here, now!”

“I just need to find Trent.”

I couldn’t believe he was still looking for that stupid fish.

The boat had started rocking now. I held on to the console while hearing Mark flop around on the deck outside. At that point, I was more afraid Mark was going to get himself thrown over.

“I don’t care about the stupid trout. Get in here.”

“Right boss.”

Mark finally entered the cabin, looking a little worse for wear. I was going to berate him but thought keeping calm was the best option. There was something about the sudden change of conditions that didn’t sit right with me.

“Man I really wish we didn’t lose Trent.”

“He’s a fish Mark. He fell right back into the ocean where he belonged.”

We were twenty-five miles from the coast according to the GPS. The boat got less rocky, we were going to be ashore in about less than an hour, and my first mate wasn’t going to overboard after chasing a stupid trout.

We were going to be okay.

Until we nearly went through the cabin window.

We hit something. Something big. Mark fell forward and slammed his face against the floor. He started bleeding out and I think he chipped a tooth. I on the other hand, was thrust over the boat’s console and slammed my head against the window. In pain and now dazed, I slammed the stop button and took the ship off autopilot. Looking around was a blur, and the fog had seeped into the cabin. But I could still make out collapsed shape of Mark on the floor, as he tried to hold back the blood in his mouth using just his hand.

I slowly and cautiously made my way over to the first aid kit hanging off the wall and sat down next to him.

“Boss, what did we hit?”

I didn’t know what to tell him at the time.

“Maybe an island? Maybe we beached ourselves? Or our crane got caught…I don’t know. I’m gonna go check it out before I start the engine again.”

I wish I didn’t. But I did.

Leaving a bloody deckhand in the cabin I exited the cabin into the fog that seemed to have become thicker somehow. I could barely see my outstretched hands and wondered how I was going to find the cause of this abrupt stop.

With my hands on the rails, I planned on doing a tour of the ship. Thought it was best to check for leaks, as if we were equipped to deal with them in this visibility.

I briefly checked the stern. No leaks, no damage, no problem.

On to the starboard side. Again nothing. I tried looking out into the ocean for signs of anything, but the fog was too thick. It was then I think when the waves started to return. I almost jumped out of my skin when the water splashed against my hand grasping the rail but I quickly recomposed myself. This was no way for a captain to behave.

On to the bow, and much like the stern there was not much to report.

However, the waves had started to become more aggressive, almost like they came from all directions. I couldn’t feel any wind, but I definitely heard the waves crashing and pounding against my ship’s hull, almost like they were demanding to come in.

But there had to be something. We had to have crashed into something.

So I made my final inspection the port side. Just when I reached port, I heard that same call.

It was coming from beneath the ship.

Shit.

I had never been so scared. I don’t know what it was, I never felt fear at such a primal level. All alone, in this ever-changing environment, with a completely unknown and invisible…force. Time seemed to slow. My mind was racing, but all my thoughts, ideas, reasoning, led me to one conclusion.

Get out of here as fast as I can.

I took one step before the boat shook and I was knocked over the edge and into the ocean.

I dived head first, so fast that I couldn’t stop the seawater from rushing in and into my lungs. Instinctively, I held my breath and tried to reach for the surface. But my mind was frenetic. I didn’t know which way was up. I opened my eyes, and kept them open despite the pain from the salt water. Nothing but water, I looked up, down, left, right, but all water. The water itself was so murky, but the fog blocked out all light. I didn’t know which way was up. I didn’t know which way to avoid my death. This was how I was going to die. Drowning. After I told some college idiot off for doing the same thing because he wanted to save a trout from falling into the ocean. The irony.

My lifejacket started to slowly lift me up to the surface, I could feel myself rising but the water in my lungs caused me to panic. I tried coughing the water out with my mouth closed but it was making it worse. Opening my mouth would be suicide. It felt like the slow pull of the lifejacket wasn’t enough. I was going to do in the ocean, a floating piece of debris in a vast blue sea.

Then I felt my back press against something. The boat’s hull.

My palm pressed against it, I almost climbed it as my legs, paddled and pushed ever so harder until…freedom. Saltwater erupted from my lungs and I coughed, and coughed, and coughed. Between the coughing, gasping for breath, and hyperventilating I cried out for help. Hoping Mark could hear me.

The thud of Mark’s frantic footsteps could be heard somewhere above me and I looked up into the thick fog and I had never been so happy to hear another man’s voice.

“Captain? You alright?”

The waves had become tumultuous, I was ingesting as much water as I was coughing out. Through some miracle I cried out, “The buoy! The buoy!”

“Right give a moment.”

I didn’t feel like I had a moment. The waves kept pounding me against the boat, the water entering my lungs, I was almost a goner.

Then I felt a strong current almost sweep my legs. In front of me, the water slowly rose, and through the fog I could feel a giant warm breath.

To this day, I swear, what I’m about to tell you now, is the truth.

The warm breath pushed apart the fog and in front of me was the giant head of a serpent. It’s turtle-like mouth, giant black eyes that blinked once revealing it’s translucent eye lids, flat nostrils, horrible blue skin that was like a snake, and it grinned at me with sharp, sharp, dagger-like teeth.

I was so entranced by the monstrosity before me that I barely felt the buoy hit me in the back of my head.

That faint knock on my head saved my life though as I reached for the buoy, held onto it for dear life and screamed at the top of my lungs: “Pull! Pull!”

A reply of “Right captain!” echoed down from the deck and as I looked back, the fog had hidden that monstrosity from my sights.

One of the reasons Mark was such a good deckhand was because he was strong. He pulled me up with such power that I almost fell head first onto the deck. I sprang up and still coughing out seawater, dragged Mark into the cabin and drove the ship full speed ahead.

I ignored all the questions Mark asked me on the way back, as if somehow my full dedication and concentration was required to safely reach shore. In truth, I was still in shock. I was still in shock when arrived at port and I was still in shock when we got off the boat.

I’ve never set sail that day. I paid Mark for his troubles but told him to join another crew and I never saw him after that. I sold the boat shortly thereafter as well. There were plenty of friends and comrades that were sad to see me leave a life of the sea behind.

But having moved here to Idaho, I don’t think I ever regretted that decision.

After a few years I did some research. There had been numerous tales about this monster. Some people called it the Pensacola sea monster, Vikings used to tell tales of dragon-serpents of the coast of Europe, even Portuguese explorers saw this creature off the Cape of Good Hope.

I may have loved the ocean once, but there are just some things beneath the waves that aren’t meant to be seen.