You toss the empty can of beans into the blue depth behind you as the humble boat drifts along, following the movement of the waves. The sound of the wooden planks creaking all around you as you try to stay as still as possible, not wanting to rock the boat — or worse, tip it over.

Billy, or Bill, sits across from you with the same unreadable expression on his face as he gazes out into the dull, grey sake above. He reaches up, scratching the slight stubble on his usually clean shaven face form the weeks you’ve spent out on sea on the Elias. You don’t know what happened. You were asleep, awoken by shouts and violent shaking. You probably would’ve joined the rest on your crew in that underwater grave if it wasn’t for the Reliable Billy finding you and throwing you into the only working lifeboat on the side of the boat.

You don’t know what happened. An accident, and a culmination of the crews panic, probably set their fates in stone. You pull the thick jacket around you a little tighter to your body as you look over the boat, the dark water seeming to stretch down almost endlessly.

You aren’t concerned about survival. But if you do die, you hope it’s quick.