Johnny’s father picked up the grey, oversized anorak sprawled across the dusty floorboards and threw it at Johnny’s feet. He then grabbed several packed rucksacks, walked outside with them swung over his broad shoulders and dumped them in the back of his muddy pick-up truck. Johnny crept to the door to watch his father load the truck for their weekend away, exploring the Arafura Sea. The truck door jolted open and his father jumped inside. SLAM the door shut and the window rolled down, “Get in”. Johnny responded to his father with a loud groan, he hurried to the truck and they drove off. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than a weekend outdoors. After an hour of travelling without making the slightest glint of eye contact with each other, the truck finally came to a Holt. They had arrived at the dock, ready to aboard the crystal blue Arafura Sea.
Johnny hadn’t been to the dock with his father since he was a young child. Although he didn’t convey it, it was obviously a place of sentimental value; a lost love. The blue sea was still and the coast was empty. Johnny glared at the dingy, white motorboat resting on the gleaming water in front of him. His father raised his arm and placed it on his shoulder and gave him a firm shake “not good enough for you Johnny boy” he chuckled. Johnny cracked an unexpected smile and started to unpack their belongings for the adventure ahead. After an afternoon of unpacking their possessions onto the small cruiser boat they were ready to set off.
Night fall was approaching and