Chance: A Tale in Two Parts

At a modest riverside inn, a group of sailors gathers around a solitary newcomer—a weather‑worn captain with iron‑grey hair and a sharp eye for detail. He immediately distinguishes himself, chastising the waiter with the authority of a man who has spent his life commanding a vessel. The conversation quickly drifts from the clatter of plates to the stark contrast between life at sea and the complacency of those ashore, where responsibility feels optional and the world seems oddly safe.

He recounts the intoxicating thrill of his first certification, the moment a blue slip of paper confirmed his place among the seafaring ranks. The nostalgia is vivid: the bustling Saint Katherine’s Dock, the stern examiner, and the rush of pride that made the harbor feel like a launchpad to endless horizons. As he shares these memories, the listener senses a deeper yearning—a longing to return to the raw, honest work that defined him, hinting at the choices he will soon face between the lure of the tide and the comforts of land.