We don’t talk about these things. A young person goes out and he tells only the house post where he plans to go. On the shore, or in a boat, a person is smaller than a wave and the sea is bigger than a mountain. A person cannot stand against it. He cannot breathe water. Even the wind knocks him over. An island is only a speck in the sea. A village is only a speck. A person’s boat is only a speck. The fish belongs to the sea, the fish belongs to the waters, but to the person a fish is a gift. The seal belongs to the sea, the sea lion belongs to the sea, but a person is a stick of wood. A person bends or he breaks. A person floats or he sinks. He is only a frond of seaweed. A person alone on the sea is neither young nor old. He is a nothing in an eternity. If a person is lost at sea, he’s never found. He dies without a burial. Maybe he lives after that in the sky. But he can never return to his own place. A person’s time is borrowed. A boat, a net are only borrowed. A pole, a rope are only borrowed. The seal, sea lion, walrus, the salmon, the whale are only borrowed. They give themselves up for a purpose. Hunting at sea is a privilege. The sea has a raw beauty, and it has an aching beauty. The sea teaches those who listen. It’s a privilege to learn from it. Without that, a person is not a person.