It does not make any sense... The boat stopped, but how? My boat, my beautiful beloved boat does not travel forward. The sail is up, but it will not move an inch...

I made this boat with my own hands twenty years ago. I made it carefully, building one part at the time. Once it was ready to float I set it up by the shore and made it go. It went fast, faster and better than any boat I have had before, at least that is what it felt like. I knew deep down it had some issues. Some issues that I would always fix later, at least that is what I said. The issues never stopped the boat from going anyways, it simply slowed it down a bit. But my boat could take it, nothing would end its days at sea. No matter what waves and hurricanes God may send me, my boat will hold me up and carry me to safety. At least that is what I said...

Now I am standing here when I suddenly feel something touching my feet is. It feels like, like water. But no, it cannot be... I will not look down, it is just me being to dramatic. I try to walk towards the stern. I quickly notice that it becomes harder to walk... Still, nothing will convince me to look down. Because I am sure that this boat cannot sink, I will simply move on like I always do. As I reach for the steering wheel it gets harder to breathe...

Suddenly I am going down faster than ever! I see it, I see it now... I do not have to look if it is water below me anymore... The water looks at me now. But how, how could I be so mistaken. I always knew boats could sink, but it never hit me that my boat could. I never thought about it... However, at this point maybe it was just me not willing to face it?

Now I can feel it, I can see it and feel it. The ice-cold saltwater causing me to choke while the water pressure crushes my lungs. I look below me and see the bottom of the sea. I cannot, I cannot die there. I must swim, swim till I reach the surface again. It feels like a dying trip, as I struggle to swim I am starting to notice that it is far to the surface. At this point of time it almost seems pointless, like a dying trip that is already doomed... But I will not, I will not give up. I can see the surface now.

As I reach for the surface, I am starting to miss the boat... I miss it more than anything, and almost feel like I should have died with it. But no, I must reach the surface. After a long and hard swim I am finally up. I can still see the boat below me. I tell myself going back to it is a suicide mission, no matter how much it mattered to me. I start crying while I swim back to the shore.

As I reach the dock I feel something, something warm. I look up and see the sun. It is shining right at me as I get a little chill of relief, relief and happiness. I start to giggle for a little while... After just a short period of time I cannot hold it in no more. I break out in laughter. I am laughing because I am thinking about tomorrow. Because I know... I know that tomorrow I will be alive and well while the boat will slowly rot into tiny pieces, and when I come back ten years from now, the only thing that will remain is small fractions of the anchor. The anchor that once held me safe…

–Olav T. Helset