Hello, readers! Welcome to Inkweb! Today, I'm describing an ocean trawler in the middle of the Atlantic. Have fun reading, and make your own descriptions if you want!
April 17th,
1870; Halfway Across the Atlantic Ocean
The great
ocean trawler cut through the waves with spunk like a bull goring an unlucky matador.
Rain dropped in a continuous sheet of downpour; the frigid sea waves cascaded
onto the deck and threatened to bury the vessel in a watery grave, a coffin for
a crew of thirty-four, a respected captain, and the inscrutable guest.
But the iron ship plunged onward, breaking a
rift through the surging sea slosh with its streamline bow and pushing its way
tediously forward through the dark.
A sudden flash lit the great iron beast as it
tossed and drove forward; several forms were visible on deck, men in dark
sea-jackets, lashed to ratlines and crawling their way along the deck. They
were entrenched, embattled against the dark storm, and there could be no
turning back, as cried the sunken fleets that had attempted, in vain, to escape
the ocean’s wrath. She was a fickle woman, but men still loved her wine-dark
waters, though her temper flared like this from time to time.
This is a very nice description. Good comparisons, and I especially like the part about the ship being "a coffin for a crew of thirty four . . ."
ReplyDeleteSuggestion: the third sentence seems a bit long to me; maybe try splitting it into two, or shortening it somehow? I like what you're trying to do with it; it just seems a bit unwieldy as it is.
Ah, thank you. Some criticism (always appreciated on Inkweb). Yes, I'll see what I can do with it.
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