8.0: Fin Over Tail

   "Rain!" I exclaimed, glaring up at the sky. I was just about finished with my lap around the island, trying to scan for empty ports that were available for anyone to dock in; I never minded a change of scenery. I jogged towards my houseboat, trying to avoid being pelted with the tiny rain droplets. I unlocked my door, thankfully stepping inside my humble and dry abode.

   My stomach let out a low growl, asking for food. I had a protein smoothie for lunch and whole grain toast with eggs and bacon for breakfast, but all of that was hours ago. It was dinner time. I wandered over towards my mini fridge. I had hooked up several rechargeable batteries to the boat and a regular sized fridge would have used too much power, therefore, instead of buying another expensive battery, I bought a smaller fridge. There was plenty of water, orange juice, eggs, and smoothies, but I was lacking in the food department; the only thing I had left was a wilted salad.

   I grabbed a fork and sat down at the dinner table, hungrily eating the lettuce. That was the big downside of living on my own for the first time; I didn't have my parents to whip up some tasty homemade meal for me whenever I asked. When I finished I loaded the plates into the dishwasher. I'd do the dished tomorrow; it was already two am and I didn't feel like cleaning up. That was the advantage of living alone, nobody nagged you to clean up or do anything right then.
   Two am was too late for anything decent to be on TV, too late for me to go to the gym and workout, and too early for me to begin my morning routine. That only left me with one thing to do: sleep. My bedroom was the largest, but it was big enough to fit a king sized bed and a night stand, so I'd decided that it was big enough for me. I stepped out of my clothes, slipping on a pair of my comfiest sweats that Basil had given me as a birthday present. She knew that, after sailing and working out, lying around thinking was my favorite activity.
   I collapsed onto the bed, my day of running finally catching up with me. My eyelids felt heavy, as they slowly closed. I drifted off into a dreamless hibernation, my body refueled for whatever tomorrow would bring.
   Caw! Caw! I groaned, as the sound of gulls ripped my out of my peaceful sleep. According to my iPhone it was only five am, still too early to workout, watch TV, or begin my morning. I could always move the houseboat. It was quiet, sailing around. I'd spotted several decent docking spots while jogging; why waste perfectly good time? I was looking for ports and had found them, now I needed to re-dock.

   I rolled out of bed, debating on whether or not I should get dressed in real clothing. I had only slept three hours in my sweats and no one would see me sailing the empty waters... I decided against wasting clothing and having to add more to my always growing stack of laundry; I'd go shirtless with sweats. I jogged out the front door, to the ladder that lead up to the wheel.

   The cool metal rungs of the ladder pressed against my bare toes and fingers, as I climbed up, the early dawn's light breeze ruffling my hair. There was something peaceful about the ocean in the morning. The world was quiet, the waves were gentle, it was almost as if nature was holding its breath, waiting for the first boater to destroy the serene scene. The ocean's dawn and the ocean's pre-storm were similar. The breeze was light, the skies a cloudy gray blue color, the waves were the only noise you could here, along with the cawing of aggravating birds. I had never experienced a storm, but from what the locals had conveyed to me, a fairly horrid one had passed through a few years back, wrecking the tourist industry when all the resorts were ruined; I had arrived shortly after the town had gotten back on its feet.

   I took hold of the wheel, glancing at the radar. There was nothing in my vicinity. I powered up my boat and slowly began steering away from the port. I was tired of this location, I needed someplace quiet. The islands were excellent at providing a scenic, peaceful place, provided you knew where to look. I did.
   My mother and mum, Rosie and Hazel, had been able to sell the family home for a fairly high price and gave my sisters and I a sum of money that would give us each a comfortable life. I, since we had to use the money to support a passion, decided to buy a top of the line sailboat and sail from Washington's coast to the tropical islands of I didn't know where.
   I set sail shortly after my moms moved to Paris, Basil went with them; she said she had a life in Washington, and she did, but she wasn't sure what to do without parental guidance. I wasn't sure where Wren went. She disappeared one summer day, without leaving a note or a trace. We thought about hiring a private detective, but realized it wasn't worth it. If she wanted to disappear, she would and we couldn't find her until she wanted us to.

   I sailed along the western USA's coast for a bit, until I needed more fuel and food. I docked in California and, after seeing an ad for Vegas, abandoned my boat and decided to rent a car and road trip to Nevada. I'd never drank alcohol or gambled before and, after finding a casino in Sin City that would overlook the fact that my real ID said my age was eighteen, I hadn't been intelligent enough to buy a fake, I spent too much money. I lost it all; I was horrible at black jack and craps and drank a bit too much. When I woke up passed out in the dumpster of some chapel that advertised having the 'Realest Fake Elvis' with only my debit card and a strip club's business card, I realized I had to get out of there.
   I traveled back to California to find my boat missing. The bank told me I had ten thousand or so dollars left, I had been irresponsible and now was paying for it. I purchased another boat, a smaller, crappier one, and set sail once more, determined to not dock until I reached where ever. I'd settle down and live where ever my boat ran out of gas at. After a few months of seeing scenic Mexican coasts, taking a trip through the Panama Canal, and seeing islands I couldn't name without a map, I reached the US Virgin Islands. The Islands spoke English, used the US dollar, and were still US citizens; it was the perfect place for me. I docked at a small island named Isla Paradiso, sold my boat, and bought a houseboat. I had a thousands dollars left and was content sailing, with no job. Soon I'd have to get one. Soon was not today, though.

   The sun had risen and I had yet to find the port I wanted to dock at. My thoughts often left me off-course. I glanced out at the ocean, spotting a place I could dock. It wasn't ideal, but it was peaceful looking. It would work for now. As I looked at the port, something shiny caught my eye. A tail. It was too large to be a fish's, too gorgeous. It couldn't be- could it? Mum had shown us The Little Mermaid when we were kids; we even met an Ariel actress at Disneyland.Was I really seeing what I thought I was seeing?
   A tail. A violet-navy fish's tail. I was sure I had seen something that was peculiar. Either my mind was playing tricks on me, there was a mermaid, or some new creature was lurking around my island home. It didn't matter which of the three was the truth, I was determined to find out what the tail was and who it belonged to.

NOTE: Tracked, my newest spin-off story, now has its own blog. If you want, be on the lookout for the first chapter, which will also be released soon. ☺ I apologize to everyone who wanted Basil to win, but I still think this generation will be lots of fun! I'm excited to let you guys see how it unravels.