An unusual 'catch of the day'!
|For Daily Flash Fiction Challenge [foot, line, bird] Word Count: 298
"Haul Away!" Yelled the Skipper. Grinding cogs accompanied the rattle and chug of the diesel motor as the cable winch ground in life, the squeal of the hawser cables adding to the cacophony. It was the third day out of Novia Scotia that the Skipper and his crew on 'The Bird' had been trawling the line of the 45th Parallel and up to now each trawl had landed around a third of their usual catch for the time of year. This was the fourth ship to bear that name, the first had belonged to his great, great-grandpa.
This morning something felt 'off'!
This feeling began as a vague sense in the Skipper's mind early on the third day. By mid-morning two of the crew had mentioned their feelings that something wasn't quite 'right' but it wasn't until mid-day, as the ship neared its point of no-return around Lat. 30 degrees, the GPS signal became intermittent and the ship's compass antique compass, mounted in a polished brass gimble, started rocking in its cradle, the needle arcing wildly between East and West Nor' West.
A thick, cold fog began to rise from the sea's surface. It curled in wisps up the sides of the vessel, snaking along the gunwales, creeping across the decking foot by foot deadening the noise of the ship's engines, the shouts of the crew and calls of seabirds.
Then, nothing on the GPS! The Skipper looked out the cabin in time to see a large three-masted schooner appear alongside the port bow. He caught the name on its wooden prow, 'The Bird'. No sooner had the schooner appeared the fog closed over the trawler completely, the GPS signal returned and the trawl net broke the surface, landing a net full of large cod, hake and haddock!