Part I Drifting Yachts

It was the hour when the night finds an end, when the first rays of the sun brush the horizon and the full moon hesitates to go down. The waters on the Caribbean Sea surface at dawn were placid, and the boat barely swayed above the ocean's silvery plate. Early in the morning, like every day, the fishermen hauled their nets, some of them celebrating a bountiful fishing while others, tossed them back to the ocean to see if this time the fish would bite.

Beaming a smile, young Cindirillo sailed back shore, his boat loaded with still flapping snappers and sea bass ready to be cleaned, weighed and sold at the fishmonger. He was very lucky this time and summer always brought with warmer waters, some lobster, octopus, shrimp and oyster trampled within the fish in the nets. Things were going good this week and that meant he would have money for his own, after giving the sales profits to his stepmother.

For José Cindirillo it had been a hard life. After his father, Don Miguel Cindirillo, the owner of the prosperous fishing village in town died, he had to work for a living. When he was sixteen, he was forced to drop school to sustain his lazy stepmother, Doña Carmiña and his two stepsisters María Lourdes and Ana Clementina. Each morning, the boy woke up before sunrise to fish, both to keep the good name of his father and to secure a roof over his head and a plate of food on the table. His house was not his anymore and was a living hell, placing him as the intruder, a slave to the evil woman and the pair of obnoxiously vain teenagers.

Beyond the horizon's chiaroscuro the sun began to peep when José noticed a light flashing to the distance. An intermittent signal he knew well: SOS. There was someone in trouble in open seas and fishermen, like soldiers, held a code of honor and it was to never leave a fallen man behind in the ocean. So, Cindirillo turned the single engine fishing boat around to rescue the drifting ship.

After sailing for 15 minutes, José arrived. Startled to see it was not an ordinary ship, but a yacht, he hesitated first to get closer. Stories of mafia boats dropping drugs or modern pirates popped in his head. He couldn't hear the roaring engines on the luxurious vessel and most of lights were off, blinking only the emergency ones.

"Please, help me!" Screamed a man onboard agitating a lantern high in his hands.

"What's the problem sir?" Cindirillo approached slowly, also a flash light and a transmission radio in his hand as he proceeded with precaution.

"It's an electricity cut. Everything is off, from the radio to the engines. Cellphones have no signal here, so I'm drifting." The man unfolded down the ladder asking the boy to climb up.

Trusting the man's story and his neat appearance, Cindirillo climbed aboard. "Where's the engine's room, sir?" he asked, and immediately the yacht's owner guided him to a small closet next to the navigation room. There, he opened a compartment tousled with wires in different colors. He played with it for a moment and closed it. Then he opened the breakers box and after clicking on three buttons, lights were on again on the ship. The sound of the electric generator made him smile. "Sometimes is only a matter of replacing a fuse. You see, there are spare ones in this compartment."

"Wow! That was awesome! It's fixed!" Perplexed, the man tried all the controls on the panel and after the engines turned on and everything worked perfectly, a huge grin drew on his face. "How did you know these?"

"My dad, when he was alive, had a boat like this... Well, a bit smaller and not this fancy, but worked mostly relying on electrical power."

"Oh... Sorry to hear your dad passed away... Your mother must be proud of you. You're a smart kid!" The man patted on Cindirillo's shoulder.

"I hope she is... Up there in heaven", Jose's eyes watered and his voice broke a bit.

"I've been so imprudent. I'm sorry to hear you've lost both parents... Please, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Armando Gighliotti, owner of the Villa del Mar Hotel."

"Wow! That's the big one that is going to open soon! My name is José Cindirillo. I run the small fishmonger in town. It's a pleasure to meet you sir", both men shook hands.

"Definitely both your parents would be proud of you. You're young and hard worker, a quality to admire in a man. How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen, Don Armando".

"Wow! That's impressive!"

"Thank you", Cindirillo humbly replied. "Well, I have to go sir. My boat is loaded with fish and it will be ruined if I don't clean it and put it on ice soon."

"Oh yes... But here, please, take this as a form of gratitude. If it weren't for you, I'd be lost", Don Armando took from his pocket a handful of money and without counting it, handed it to Cindirillo.

"No, please Don Armando, you offend me. I only wanted to help and now you know how to fix it if ever happens again", the boy refused the money.

"Men like you are only a few, young Cindirillo. Consider me a friend now on." They shook hands effusively.

Said that, José climbed down to his fishing boat and after turning the engine on, waved goodbye to the wealthy owner of the brand new hotel in town. Satisfied with his doing and Don Armando's words praising him, he sailed back shore to clean the fish and sale it in the humble shop.

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***What do you think of Cindirillo? Of his way of living and how did he proceed to help the man?