The aging fisherman thought back, recalling his history on the open seas. The big, strong crews he’d sailed with and the great catches they’d brought in. Great days those were, and memories of gusty, salty winds, and the raucous carrying on of many happy, brawny comrades.

With the years the expeditions waned - fewer ventures, smaller crews. The proud vessel moored harbor-side for weeks; months at a time. People still came around, less and less to fish though, more to just hang out and tell stories. The press for adventure, the exertion demanded to discover and fish uncharted waters hardly seemed worth setting out.

He wanted to sail more often, in part, to cover maintenance and upkeep. He strained to make a pitch strong enough to lure an adequate crew. With his craft anchored, he began to feel adrift. With passing years, more and more forlorn.

In this state he noticed a poor, lovely maiden walking toward the dock with a vibrant and expectant gait. He was drawn to her and began a conversation. He learned that she had lots of friends who shared her openness and the fire of her joy.

She liked to fish, too. She wasn’t very good at it and had no boat, but that didn’t matter. She and all the friends she could round up would rent a small boat, pile in, and afishing they would go. They’d bring back their catch and hunt for whatever open spaces or vacant pavilions they could find. There, they’d have picnics and, like a family, sing and play and laugh together.

After that encounter, the old fisherman looked for her every day. He couldn’t think of anything else. Dare he imagine that she would think about him? ‘Why?’ he thought, ‘She’s got lots of friends, energy and big dreams.’

Every chance he got, he’d make an effort to walk with her and talk. The more time they spent together, the more their friendship grew.

The sparkle came back to his eyes - the skip in his step. Spending time with her made him want to set sail in the open seas, again.

She too, grew to admire the fisherman for his maturity and wisdom. The stories of his life and experiences stirred her with honorable affections.

For many months they continued their walks on the shore. But inwardly they wondered, “Could we ever become more than mere friends? Our worlds seem so far apart, but our hearts have so much in common.”

On a particularly ordinary day, the old fisherman and the poor young maiden burst out nearly in unison: “Could we ever be together?”

A silly, loud, and awkward laughter spilled out for close to thirty seconds. Then things got very quiet for . . . ever, it seemed.

Yes, he had a big sea-worthy boat with a storied history. Yes, she would fill that boat again with the energy of work and friends and good times. But those were practical matters. Beyond that they both wondered, “can we grow, can we thrive, can we find joy? Can we fish together?”

After a short courtship, a date was set for the big day.

Lying awake in the early morning hours the old fisherman is a mix of many concerns. “How had I forgotten that fishing was always the reason for having a nice big boat?” he wondered. “So why did I tie it to the dock for so long?”

“Do I really intend to launch out to the deep waters and fish again? Or, am I joining with this young maiden simply to save my ship?” Consternation continued, “Is the freshness of this new relationship enough to keep us afloat?”

“Sure, we’ll repaint the boat,” he thought, “and we’ll set sail again. But I remember well that me and the old crew, we quit going fishing. We docked her and let her set. A vessel with a new name still carries the same fishermen.”

“Am I up to this?” he questioned, “Can I hold course?”
At last he cried, “I must not let her down.”

The lovely young maiden lay awake with wide, hope-filled eyes. She’d just had a dream in which she and all her friends were miles out into a choppy sea. They were soaked with the spray of salty, wind-blown waves. They were catching so many fish! She was exhilarated. She imagined the old fisherman there with a steady hand on the wheel. He seemed courageous. She felt safe, and wondered if 'safe' was enough.

The young maiden began her day optimistic as she does each morning. The old fisherman greeted the day with worries and self-doubts. His victories and his failures were facing off inside him. He’d earned them both, and now had to decide who and how he will be.

Courtship is a funny thing - plenty of uncertainty. You’re never sure if you’ll get what you’re after. Like fishing.