41. Like A Common Fool

A sailboat rests on the rocks, its single mast tilted slightly to one side. It has run aground, pushed in during the previous night’s storm. The unmanned boat had been anchored in the harbour, before coming loose in the storm’s harsh winds. It remains perfectly intact, with no visible damage.

People pause along the boardwalk that runs close to the shore to stare at the boat. Some quickly survey the scene before moving on, while others linger or take photos of the misfortune. A cluster of seagulls has boarded the boat and taken possession. A man positions his two children for a picture using the beached boat as the background.

Is it better to run aground or to sink? If there is someone on board, surely it is better to run aground. But assuming the boat is on its own, resting in the harbour, which is the better outcome? The question might seem straightforward for an outside observer, but what if you are the boat? What if it is you who must either run aground or sink?

If you run aground, you are going to suffer. You might live to see another day, but first you will be made into an object of ridicule. Everyone will stop to look at you and take pictures of your failure. They will memorialize it for all time. How could you do this, running aground like a common fool? Are you incapable of holding your anchor? Is that not what a boat is supposed to do? You wanted to be out on the open sea, joyfully cutting through the waves, and now you’re just an embarrassment.

If you sink, you can avoid all of this. You get to disappear from the world entirely, until maybe a salvage barge comes along one day and lifts your corpse from the seabed. Perhaps your parts could then be sold for scrap and you might end up being part of something else in the future. But that would be the end. No more open sea. No more joy. No more you.

Maybe being in a few embarrassing pictures isn’t really so bad? Eventually someone will refloat you and repair your hull, and then you’ll get to go back to being a regular sailboat. In a few months, no one will even remember you were here.