More than just a day at the beach

[please criticize and recommend any changes, thank you]

Young and naïve, Hugh stepped aboard the rusty old barge to Stradbroke Island. A pasty, Ginger headed teenager,Hugh was a long way from the grey, murky lakes of the Scottish isles. The unforgiving Australian sun blared down onto the fair skinned boy as the old barge set off on its journey. Scanning the congregations of boisterous people also on the ferry, Hugh noticed an unfamiliar dark figure resting slouched in one corner of the boat. Interupting Hugh’s curiosity, an old weathered speaker blurts; \"Welcome aboard the Stradbroke Ferry, Minjerribah.” Candidly ignoring the prejourney safety briefing, Hugh was now intrigued as to what Minjerribah could possibly mean. Repeating the word over and over under his breathe a voice rudely interrupted his train of thought. \"It means Stradbroke Island bro,” This voice came from the boy that was slumped in the corner not so long ago. Hugh was greeted to his surprise with a rugged charcoal boy, the likes of which he had never seen before. “Why thank you, kind sir”, graciously replied Hugh. “Hahaha, you talk funny bro, I’m Charlie.” grinned the young dark boy. “It’s a pleasure” Hugh replied. After a culmination of small talk, Hugh and Charlie quickly found themselves the best of friends. Shortly after arriving at the Dunwich terminal, they realised that they were both travelling in the same direction to Point Lookout. Hardly dressed for a swimming excursion, in a woollen jumper, cargo pants and loafers, Charlie nevertheless insisted on taking Hugh to the beach. With his skin already branded red from the fierce morning sun, Hugh removed his extensive layers of clothing and walked down to the waters side. “You gotta be careful aye; these waters can get pretty dangerous.” warned Charlie. “Oh not to worry, I took swim lessons in year 3,” confirmed Hugh. Hugh in awe watched the glassy green silhouettes crash into white foamy walls of water; a sight rarely seen in Scotland, and eager to appreciate its aesthetics, Hugh raced Charlie into the water. Over and under the boys frolicked in the surf, and quite unaware of the real risks, Hugh swam out further beyond than he could stand. Looking back on Charlie, a wave double the size of any other swept Hugh up in a tumble turn of water and sand, sending him flying in all directions. His fragile body met with the hard sand of the ocean floor. In the clearing mayhem Charlie panned the wavefront in search of Hugh, but he was no where to be seen. “Hughie mate, where are you?” Charlie shouted over and over, but his calls were met with no response After a extend search in the water Charlie was unable find Hugh. Retreating back to shore Charlie noticed a body like figure further down the beach. Running over Charlie was relieved to see it was the pale, freckly body of his Scottish friend. Hugh showed no signs of life, laying face down stagnant in the sand. However, after a few fearful moments he turned over and smiled. “So that’s what Australians call body surfing!” he beamed.