The Resurgent Dream
15-05-2007, 08:24
The Tuna was by no means an impressive ship. It was barely even a ship. It was more a boat. Still, it was a very popular boat which frequently took tourists, including many foreign nationals, on water tours of some of the islands of the Gulf of Vasconia. The tours left from Emperadora, Santiago and normally lasted all day. The tourists would frequently lunch on one of the other islands. The groups were normally small enough that a lot of the details could be determined by the mood and interests of the passengers, by the weather and by any interesting events that might be happening on a particular island on a particular day.
This particular evening, the Tuna was sailing off the coast of Achi. They were sailing past a largely uninhabited stretch of coast on the large island of Achi. The coastline, or what the tourists could see of it anyway, consisted mostly of a rocky slope, not at all like the tropical beaches to be found elsewhere on the island. After dark, there were no people to be seen on the shore. However, the tourists could see a couple of fishing boats coming in from the sea with the day’s catch.
‘As you can see,” the guide was telling them, “there’s a vibrant local fishing community. These men (and now some women) have won their living from the sea since time immemorial. However, in recent years, a decrease in fish populations and environmental regulations designed to protect them from further depletion, have made things a lot harder on Achi’s fishing families.”
Martin, Linda, Ashley and Natalie More were one of the few Confederal families on the boat. They were from North Roanoke and were taking their vacation in Santiago. It was their first trip to the Gulf of Vasconia and it had largely been made possible by the formation of the Confederated Peoples. Martin and Lindia were both interested in experiencing the local culture and history. Ashley and Natalie were more interested in the local social scene although they had found themselves unable to get away from their parents for even a moment. Martin was perpetually excited by some opportunity for sightseeing or another and was always dragging the rest of the family with him and Linda was paranoid that the girls might be in danger. The Confederated Peoples as a whole had a very low crime rate but some of the poorer areas of the Gulf of Vasconia were crime-ridden and there were even rumors of piracy and smuggling in these waters.
Ashley wasn’t scared of rumors. Like most more or less sheltered teenagers, she felt there was no real danger to her. She also wasn’t excited about boat trips. It was just so much water, rocks and fish. She was mostly ignoring the scenery and the rest of the tour group, staring dejectedly into the water instead. That was when she noticed something. “Umm…excuse me…Mr. Sealey. Why aren’t those fishing boats headed towards shore?”
“What do you mean?” the guide said, frowning as he turned his attention back to the boats. Ashley was correct. They weren’t headed towards shore at all but rather towards the tour boat. The men also didn’t look like fishermen up close. They were too young, too mean, too muscular. They wore fairly non-descript clothing and they wore their hair in dreadlocks. From what the tourists could overhear, they spoke to each other in Achian Creole. And they were armed.
This particular evening, the Tuna was sailing off the coast of Achi. They were sailing past a largely uninhabited stretch of coast on the large island of Achi. The coastline, or what the tourists could see of it anyway, consisted mostly of a rocky slope, not at all like the tropical beaches to be found elsewhere on the island. After dark, there were no people to be seen on the shore. However, the tourists could see a couple of fishing boats coming in from the sea with the day’s catch.
‘As you can see,” the guide was telling them, “there’s a vibrant local fishing community. These men (and now some women) have won their living from the sea since time immemorial. However, in recent years, a decrease in fish populations and environmental regulations designed to protect them from further depletion, have made things a lot harder on Achi’s fishing families.”
Martin, Linda, Ashley and Natalie More were one of the few Confederal families on the boat. They were from North Roanoke and were taking their vacation in Santiago. It was their first trip to the Gulf of Vasconia and it had largely been made possible by the formation of the Confederated Peoples. Martin and Lindia were both interested in experiencing the local culture and history. Ashley and Natalie were more interested in the local social scene although they had found themselves unable to get away from their parents for even a moment. Martin was perpetually excited by some opportunity for sightseeing or another and was always dragging the rest of the family with him and Linda was paranoid that the girls might be in danger. The Confederated Peoples as a whole had a very low crime rate but some of the poorer areas of the Gulf of Vasconia were crime-ridden and there were even rumors of piracy and smuggling in these waters.
Ashley wasn’t scared of rumors. Like most more or less sheltered teenagers, she felt there was no real danger to her. She also wasn’t excited about boat trips. It was just so much water, rocks and fish. She was mostly ignoring the scenery and the rest of the tour group, staring dejectedly into the water instead. That was when she noticed something. “Umm…excuse me…Mr. Sealey. Why aren’t those fishing boats headed towards shore?”
“What do you mean?” the guide said, frowning as he turned his attention back to the boats. Ashley was correct. They weren’t headed towards shore at all but rather towards the tour boat. The men also didn’t look like fishermen up close. They were too young, too mean, too muscular. They wore fairly non-descript clothing and they wore their hair in dreadlocks. From what the tourists could overhear, they spoke to each other in Achian Creole. And they were armed.