Slowly he reeled in the Bobber at the end of his fishing line.

It was a beautiful day for fishing. The sun was high above and only the icy gusts of wind reminded him of how it was still early in spring.

The old concrete dock made for a decent place to fish from. A breakwater on the ocean-facing side of the dock had many stones for small fish to hide in and around. Jonathan had never really caught any large fish in this spot, it didn't really matter to him, he just enjoyed the stiff, salty breeze. His fishing rod was more of an excuse to loiter around out here while staring at the ocean.

Two small trawlers had left in the early morning and the ferry wasn't scheduled to arrive until late afternoon.

Which is why it surprised him when he spotted a mast while scanning the horizon. Yachts usually never visited this small island he lived on, because it was cold year-round, but some rich people were an eccentric lot. His mind started wandering off. He still had to return that book about local birds to the library, or he'd have to pay a fine, which would be embarrassing.

The yacht was a lot closer now.

He rubbed his eye.

Was that a Junk, a Chinese river boat?

Nah, no way. It was far too stable in the open sea.

Maybe some kind of catamaran or double outrigger, which would explain the extra stability.

Could be a bunch of adventurous folk trying to prove a point, win a bet. Not his problem.

He checked his phone, thirteen-hundred, he should go grab a bite to eat in a few minutes.

One of the people on the catamaran waved to him. He gave them a little wave back.

Shit went tits-up so fast that he had no clue what happened.

One moment he was looking out at the ocean.

The next he was looking up into the sky.

Someone in a frilly dress was standing over him. Talking in an angry voice. Language sounded sing-songy, like when you hit a steel pipe with a roofing hammer.

He was at a loss and the concrete felt kinda comfortable.

So he closed his eyes and waited.

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A short while later two other voices joined the first, who hadn't even stopped talking to breathe.

The person in question had even started stepping on him, which was just rude.

He was hoisted into the air like a misbehaving kitten and for the first time he got a good look at what was decidedly a Junk.

“Hello”, he tried.

It didn't get him the expected reaction, but at least the rude crossdresser put him back on his own two feet.

All three of them looked asian. Two men and one woman. All very pale, that couldn't be healthy.

What followed was the single most awkward thing he'd ever seen. They kept looking at one person and waiting without saying anything aloud, but with varied body language. The woman even rolled her eyes at one point. Jonathan felt like he'd been robbed of his earpiece.

Eventually the guy in the back pointed to himself and said: “Jin Tu”, then he pointed to Jonathan.

“Jonathan”, he answered.

“Jona Tan”, the dude repeated.

As fun as this game was, Jona Tan (temporary) figured that this problem required a more modern solution.

He grabbed his phone, went to Gooble translate and had it read out “What do you want”, in Chinese.

This drew their interest to his phone, but otherwise they didn't seem to understand. He tried a few other languages, getting nowhere.

Jin Tu sat down on his boat while Jonathan tried other languages.

Jonathan ran out of languages from Asia, so he tried them in alphabetical order instead.

He was again hoisted up in his clothes and dropped down on the Junk.

They set out to sea again. Jonathan had to strangle his increasing panic.

“Why are you kidnapping me. Where are you taking me.”

He didn't receive an answer.

Worst of all, his fishing rod was still laying on the pier, where he'd dropped it.

Out to sea they went.

The Junk didn't move with the ways, it behaved as if it was on rails and the water around it was just for decoration.

For someone who'd spent a long time on the deck of a ship it was very disorienting. He'd try to lean into an oncoming wave and almost end up on his ass.

The three kidnappers were still sporadically arguing, sometimes pulling out different items from pockets under their clothes.

He took discreet photos of them and uploaded them to his Fakebook, so the police would have a lead if anything happened to him.

Eventually they stopped arguing and Jin Tu approached him holding a booklet and handed it to him.

It contained a workout method written in English. Not anything overly complicated, with weird image-training during resting periods.

Jonathan took a picture of every page and uploaded it.

Jin Tu used gestures to relay that he should do what the booklet said. Weird of them to carry around gymnastics paraphernalia in English, without any of them being able to speak the language.

After he went through a single repetition Jin Tu approached him again. This time holding a strip of shiny stone material. He handed him one end, while he held onto the other.

Jonathan woke up with a pounding headache, Jin Tu standing over him.

“What the hell, man!”

“My apologies. This was the most efficient method of learning your language.”

He handed the stone to his male companion.

“What do you want from me?”