Fisherman's Log

Fisherman's Log

Aidan Baublitz

04/19/2023

Fishermans Log
Entry 1
Thursday, May 28, 2065

My therapist said that I should start a journal. She said it would help with the voices, help calm me down when I’m around water. It really is rotten luck, being the youngest son of a fishing family who is afraid of water. If there is a higher power, they really have it out for me. Not only is the family business in the fishing industry, but I live in Florida. The water level hit 5 feet above what it was when my dad was my age. yesterday. The scientists say that it’ll take around 2 months for the water to rise another foot. Just 2 months.

I don’t understand why we can’t just move to the midwest like all the other sane families. Sure, we have the family business, I get it, but come on. You can really only make so much from fishing, whether the normal kind or magnet fishing. We could very easily transition to new jobs, I’m more than happy working a 9 to 5 at some fast food place. Anything to get away from the coast.

It’s not like saying anything will cause us to move. My dad never listens to me. Like come on, I’m 19 already, I’m an adult. Surely my opinion must mean something, right? I kind of get it though. I understand that he never saw me as someone who a person who truly trustworthy, given my fear. It doesn’t help in this business.

Apparently tomorrow we are headed down toward what used to be the keys. Dad says we’re after bonefish and tarpon. Some restaurant in the panhandle, or what’s left of it, wants it apparently. I didn’t know we exported that far. Money is money. We’re probably one of the only businesses that will still go down that far south. Ever since the water rise hit what my dad says was 3 feet, southern Florida has become hurricane central.

That of course means that I have to go. Mom says that exposure is the best way to get over my fears, but I’ve lived in Florida my whole life. If that isn’t enough exposure to water, I don’t think there will ever be enough. Is it really asking too much to just have this fear go away? IS IT!?

Ok, maybe writing in capital letters at myself isn’t the best for mental health. Neither is the pen running out. I’ll just get a new one for tomorrow. Damn pens are always out of ink.


Fishermans Log
Entry 48
Monday, July 21, 2065

It’s been a couple days since my last entry. My therapist would be disappointed. Things have been busy with the family business. We’ve been going out more often recently. Despite my Thalassophobia, I have been going out with my dad and brothers almost every day. It's not like I have a choice in the matter, and as they say, practice makes perfect. Although, I think I’m getting worse instead of better.

The water level has risen by another foot since I started this. It took a bit longer than the scientists said it would. It’s insane how much the water has risen in just a few short years. We had to move our business further north because the area down is just too dangerous now. Hurricanes and storms are a constant threat, and I can’t help but feel like we are playing Russian Roulette every time we go out.

I still can’t get over the fact that we are still in the fishing business. Even with the rising water level, we still have people who want our fish. Maybe it’s the novelty of it or just the fact that there aren’t many other options left. I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t care. All I want to do is get out of this business and away from the water.

But I can’t ignore the fact that this business is what has kept my family going for generations. It’s what has put food on our table and allowed us to live the life we have. Maybe I’m being selfish for wanting to leave. Maybe I should just suck it up and deal with it like everyone else in my family.

My dad says that one day I will learn to love the water like he does. He says that it’s in our blood and that I will eventually understand. But I can’t imagine ever feeling anything but fear when I’m near the water. The thought of being submerged in it is enough to make me break out in a cold sweat.

Despite all of this, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride when I’m out on the boat with my family. The way we work together, the way we catch the fish, it’s all so rhythmic and beautiful. It’s like a dance, and we are all moving together in perfect harmony. It’s moments like these that make me forget about my fear, at least for a little while.

I don’t know what the future holds for me or for our family business. All I know is that I’m going to keep pushing myself to go out on the boat every day. Maybe one day, I’ll finally conquer my fear. Until then, I’ll keep writing in this journal and hope that it helps me make sense of everything that’s happening around me.

I don't know what the future holds, but I do know that I need to figure out what I want to do with my life. I can’t keep living in fear and doing something that I don’t enjoy just because it’s what my family has always done. Maybe it’s time for me to make a change, take control of my life, and do something that I’m passionate about.

I’ve been thinking about going back to school, maybe studying psychology or something that can help me understand my own fears better. It would be a way for me to give back and help others who are struggling with similar issues. It's just an idea for now, but maybe it’s time for me to start exploring my options.

For now, I’ll keep going out on the boat with my family. It’s not like I really have a choice. There’s no government grants or scholarships for people in my situation. I’d need financial support from somewhere, and I doubt my parents would support it. Hell, I doubt we even have a high enough income to support it. Maybe I’ll figure something out, some side hustle I can do to get extra money. We’ll see, I guess.


Fishermans Log
Entry 51
Thursday, July 24, 2065

IVE CRACKED IT! Oh m god I cannot believe I didn’t think of this before! Uncle Steve! He’s not technically my uncle, but he’s been a friend of my father’s forever so it’s not much different. The guy is in financial heaven! If I can convince him to help, I’ll be able to get out of here.

In the past Uncle Steve has usually taken my side in disagreements with my dad, especially about the water. Apparently, when it first started to rise beyond five feet, Uncle Steve moved to Central Florida. I know I would’ve done the same.

The family and I went out and visited Uncle Steve and his family, as we’d done in the past. It wasn’t until my dad told me that we were headed up there that the idea came to me. Uncle Steve has never been shy about helping out my family financially, much to the discouragement of my dad. We’re mostly self-sufficient because of it, but even he knows when to accept help, like when the boat’s engine died.

About an hour into our stay, I pulled Uncle Steve aside and asked him about college. He was on board to fund it almost immediately, but it took a little more convincing to ensure that he would keep it secret from my dad. It took me telling him that my therapist suggested I keep it quiet.

It’s better that he agreed to keep it quiet. My dad would be very against me going to college, I know it. I mean I get it, the fishing industry has been in his life forever, but that doesn’t mean I want it to be in mine. It’s not my lifelong dream to stay in Florida and be a fisherman. Hell, it’s not my month-long dream. I cannot wait to get the hell out of here.

It sucks that I have to keep this secret for almost a month, but by then I’ll be gone. I don’t know much about out of state colleges. Luckily Uncle Steve said he was going to help me out with applications. At this point, I just hope I get in, no matter what the major is. Well, I’ll probably have to “declare a major”, or whatever it was Uncle Steve called it. Maybe psychology, figure out if I can fix myself…


Fisherman’s Log
Entry 72
Saturday, August 16, 2065

Tomorrow is the day. Deep down, I’m actually starting to regret this. Well, not actually, but it stings to know I’m leaving for at least four years. I talked to my therapist about it earlier, but they just said that the feeling was normal.

Today’s session was pretty average, despite it being our last one. I talked about leaving, mainly the fact that my family still doesn’t know. I still haven’t fully wrapped my head around it. Tomorrow I’m leaving for St. Louis to attend Washington University, which is apparently one of the better schools in that area.

I should be more excited than I am. I know I’ll be fine, my dad engrained a stupid work ethic in me, but I just can’t help be feel like I’m making a mistake. Leaving everyone to go to college feels… selfish. I feel like that’s stupid. That’s probably stupid.

Or is it? I’m pursuing my dreams, which is what people are always told they’re supposed to do. But if it’s what’s expected, then why does it hurt so much? Is it because I lied about it? I’ve lied about things before, but nothing this major.

How will they react? Maybe I should just write it on a piece of paper and leave it for them to find. It’d certainly be easier than telling them myself. Easier, but not necessarily better unless my end goal is to push them out of my life. We may not see eye to eye on everything, but they are still family. I’ll sleep on it, decide in the morning.

I don’t think I’m going to take this book with me. I’ve written in it for a while, and it’s definitely helped, but I think it’s best if I move on from it. It was a coping mechanism I started when all felt hopeless, but I don’t feel that anymore. I think this will be good for me. Maybe I can look back once I graduate, and reminisce on all the sadness. It’ll be fun. It probably won’t be but one can dream!


Epilogue

Jay Thorn stood at the shore of the beach, staring South over the glistening water as the sun set to his right. Over the horizon, he could barely make out the shapes of houses long abandoned, partially sunk below the sea. The ocean breeze blew through his dark hair, pushing it back from his neck.

The boy’s head turned slightly left as he heard someone approach, their footsteps muffled by the sand beneath them. A man, much older than the twenty-three-year-old, stopped next to his young companion. “One hundred more miles and we’d have reached where your house was when you left. Really puts it all into perspective.”

Jay’s smile wavered at Steve’s words. Everything was so different since he got home. If he could even call it home. It was a new house, a new part of the same sinking state. But it was the same people, and that’s what mattered. Jay placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You know I can’t thank you enough. For everything.”

Steve’s laugh echoed over the sea. “As I said at the airport, you don’t have to thank me. Just pay it forward.”

The two were pulled from their conversation as the sound of an approaching motor filled their ears. Jay recognized the sound immediately, despite not having heard it in years. It was his dad’s boat.

“You sure you’re ready to head out there?”

Jay waved off Steve’s concern. He glanced down at the leather-bound book in his hand, gently flipping it open. He slowly read over the last few words. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Jay reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen.


Fisherman’s Log
Entry 73
Sunday, June 2, 2069

I’m back home! College was exactly what I hoped. I feel much better about everything now and my parents were understanding of it all. And now I test if it was all for nothing. I’m headed back out on the boat with Dad and Marcus. It’s like Mom said, exposure is the best way to get over a fear.