No good deed goes unpunished.

[Kitosdad]

It was a bitterly cold November morning when my friend Maurice and I were fishing from a local break-water.

We'd arrived at 5 a.m.on our bicycles, with all of our equipment tied to the cross-bars of our bicycles. We had sandwiches and a flask of tea and we were ready for a mornings fishing.

We were well wrapped-up, for we were both accustomed to the North-East winds and the cold spray of the North sea as it splashed against the walls of the breakwater.

The daylight slowly brightened the dark sky, and a very weak sun decided to peep through the dark clouds. Rain was a possibility, so we donned our long oilskin coats.

The morning passed uneventfully with only a couple of cod to show for our efforts, but we were happy, two mates doing just what they enjoyed.

Around nine o'clock several men had also came to fish, so there was plenty of activity going on around us.

There was very little wind, but the sea rolled below us in majestic swells. This was the North sea, and it was showing us all just what a force it was. Quiet and dark, but so very strong.

The smell of cigar smoke drifted lazily on the almost still air, and I turned to see a middle-aged couple with a small boy about six years old watching us.

"Have you boys caught anything?," asked the man in a condescending tone.
"Now't," replied Maurice. He obviously didn't like the man from the very first moment of his appearing.
I smiled inwardly and turned away, but the man was not to be dismissed so lightly, and attempted to prolong the conversation.

"We were hoping to be able to buy some fresh cod from you boys," he persisted.
I couldn't be as brusque as my mate so I told him again that we had no fish to sell.
He stared for a moment, then turned away with a dis-satisfied look on his fat face.
Maurice grinned. "I'd rather throw them back in the water as sell them to him!"
That was Maurice, never short of an insult.

The man continued to question the other men there as to whether they had any fish to sell, but none had, for they had only just recently arrived.

I was busily winding in my line when a scream rang through the morning air.
Maurice and I turned and saw the woman frantically shouting to her husband.

The little boy was in the water!

Maurice and I ran to the edge where all of the other men were looking down at the small boy in the water. He was about ten feet away from the breakwater and slowly drifting further away.
The Father was waving his arms and shouting, but doing nothing more. The Mother was screaming, and one of the men was trying to cast his line beyond the boy in the hope of being able to drag him back to the breakwater.

I pulled off my oilskin coat and wellington boots, my wind-breaker I left on as this would aid buoyancy, or so I thought. The silence was frightening. The sea was about four metres below us and I leapt out as far as I could.

As I went under my breath seemed frozen in my lungs. When I reached the surface I was unable to breath in.
The water was so cold that my whole body functions had closed down.
I coughed hard and was relieved as I was able to again breath freely.

As I swam toward the boy I was aware of another splash behind me and as I turned to see what had caused the noise up popped Maurice from the depths.I knew for a fact that he wasn't a strong swimmer so now there were two problems.

"I'll go and get him,I shouted. You follow me."
The swells were bigger than they seemed from the safety of the breakwater and I realised that we were so lucky that the tide was on the flow and not the ebb. The undercurrent was strong but manageable.

I reached the boy and he was crying and spluttering. He clung to me like a monkey to its Mother, and I had to calm his hysteria otherwise I knew that we would both be drowned.
"Look, there's your Mammy up there, let's show her what good swimmers we are," I said. It sounded stupid even to me, but I couldn't think of anything else to say.
He calmed a little and I looked for Maurice. There he was, just catching up to us.
"We'll have to swim to the beach, the current is too strong to do anything else," I shouted.

He nodded his head. I feared that the beach, some two-hundred yards away would be too much for him, but he struck out blindly and I tagged behind him just to keep an eye on his progress. The water temperature was affecting the boy. His eyes were closed and his lips were turning blue.

I came abreast of Maurice and shouted,"Get a move on you lazy ****, the tide will be turning soon and then we will be in real trouble."
"I call this trouble enough," he spluttered back.

It took us about twenty minutes to cover that two-hundred yards and I was so thankful when my feet finally touched the sandy bottom.
Maurice was close behind and we had made it!

The parents were waiting on the beach and the Father was holding a thick car-blanket. He wrapped it around the boy and he and his wife hurried to their car.

They loaded the boy onto the back seat and the Mother joined him.
The Father jumped into the driving seat, and they sped away.

Maurice and I were stood there like two drowned rats, water streaming off us.
"Last time I come swimming with you. Come on, let's get our bikes and get off home,"said Maurice.

We walked the length of the breakwater and recovered our clothes and fishing tackle.
The men were still fishing and seemed to have no desire to talk to us. We felt like lepers.
We pedalled home and got dried and had a good breakfast.

Whenever we went fishing after that, it was always from the beach. No more breakwaters for us.
It's many years since I've heard from Maurice. He must be seventy three now.
I have often wondered if he is still alive.

We never heard a word of thanks from the couple to this very day.

Kitos.
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If you need me, I'm here.

[SkiIucK]

Very, very vivid.

[Icykhool]

Hey Kitosdad,
I do finshing too but not in sea and cold. I do fly fishing in summar only.
Great story, I do not know sometime people act very differently. They consider themselves very special and lucky. So they assume that their luck has saved them from trouble intead of any real person. Do not feel bad. You are having good and healthy life because of your good did

[Icykhool]

And hey,
Nice dogs

[Prezbucky]

They should have bought you dinner or -- at least -- thanked you. To not even acknowledge your effort to (possibly) save their kid's life shows a complete lack of class.
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Billie Jean is not my lover. Hee.

[Kiprida]

Kitos,

You acted according to your conscience . Even if they didn't thank you, you'll be our Hero forever!!

~Phoebe
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incomplete....

[Kitosdad]

"And hey, nice dogs."

Thank you!

The bigger one is Violetta, my beautiful mongrel girl. She is wonderful with children and everyone she meets.Her only weakness is her fear of thunder. She becomes a shivering wreck at the first distant rumble, and if, as it usually occurs, at night, then forget about trying to sleep. She roams the entire apartment climbing on tables, laptops, worktops, anywhere and everywhere. She is faithful and obedient. The perfect dog.

The smaller is Rusty, a Yorkshire terrier mixture. He is afraid on nothing on God's earth, and will protect me with his very life. He causes me untold headaches with his protective ways.
The postman never knocks on my door, and leaves my parcels next door!
But, like a rowdy child, I love him to bits.

Kitos.
_________________
If you need me, I'm here.

[Someone]

Dear Kitos, I have an idea how to make this story more spicy. When the family sped off, you two stand there disappointed. Lo and behold - here they come back. You are glad: they are coming to thank you at last. The man comes to you and asks: "And where goddam is my son's left boot which was on him before he fell?"

An by the way (again my devil's nature and mere curiosity). Why do you mix together yards and meters to measure the distance to the beach? 200 yards = 182 meters.
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Please do not hesitate to correct my language mistakes.

[Someone]

[Kitosdad]

Sorry Someone. Living in Germany and being English can be confusing at times.

Alterations have been made. Thanks for pointing it out.

Kitos.
_________________
If you need me, I'm here.

[Icykhool]

I like your Rusty. A friend of main has similar kind of dog, we call her Nicky.