Alright, another Tuesday another seat of the pants five minutes of fiction. The clock is set, and here we go!
He had to avoid the bigger ships; they were milling around the harbor, trying to pick up survivors – or already dark, the gasses having reached them even out at sea, prevailing winds or no. He was tired, between steering the ship and stowing everything even remotely flammable. At least the ship did not have a leak, or one large enough to notice.
The fish were beginning to surface, belly up, when he made it out of the harbor. He turned the bow to the sea and pressed the throttle to the stops.
He knew very little of what to do about this, but he had learned that the bow had to face the incoming waves, or his new ship would be broken apart in seconds.
All I got for now; elapsed time is four minutes and forty-two seconds. See you next week, when we go sailing!