The ocean can be a wonderful place. It's vast, open and full of beauty and mystery.

At least, it always was for me. I used to go on fishing trips and sailing trips far out at sea with my dad, but he'd be

going to get too old to go out for extended trips, so I would oftentimes have to sail alone.

I'll admit it is a strange feeling to be out at sea, knowing you're the only

person around for miles. You could still chat with others on the radio, but as for a person

to person in direction, you were out of luck.

Unfortunately this time I did not have the luxury of being alone.

I still had my dad's old boat at the time. It was an average size boat with a double cabin

that was relatively dated. The kitchen and eating area were together with a small table

and a window looking out at sea.

In the other room were a bedroom and the small bathroom.

Outside of both was a flight of stairs leading to the top deck and the partially covered bridge where the controls were.

It was small but familiar.

I enjoyed being there and remembering the time that I would spend with my dad there.

I had already been out at sea for two days and this took place.

I was cruising along the East Coast in the Atlantic Ocean. At first my fishing experience was decent.

My holes were enough to keep me well fed. Every few hours or so, I would pass by a boat or two, maybe even striking up a conversation or just simply waving as we crossed paths.

Most conversations took place on the radios.

As I went further out to see, however, it began to grow quiet.

It was on the third night that my trip took a turn for the worse.

The day was fair, with only a few clouds.

The sunset accompanying it was gorgeous.

...