On that particular day, he’d brewed a pot of coffee to push away the lingering weariness from a restless night. Memories of fish runs, precarious ice sheets, and storm warnings whirled in his mind. The only solace he found was in his unwavering commitment to survive.
The radio on his table crackled occasionally with idle chatter from other fishers. Most transmissions warned about shifting ice drifts or forecasted bitter storms. Nolan listened intently, knowing that a single oversight in this place could cost him his life.