Here's what I ended up writing:
Barnacles munched at his underside as Boat continued to rock in the ocean. It seemed like at any point the ocean creatures might finally break through him he had been sitting there for so long. Day after day the simple wooden boat screamed at his tormentors, “Try as you might, you will never break my spirit!!” Yet they continued to mindlessly gorge themselves on what seemed to be the only available meal. Boat had long given up pulling and tearing at his anchor; no matter the swell of the wave he encountered, he could not break free. Even as he tried to rest it was not the frigid sea air nor the murky waters that kept his mind alert, but the possibility that those who had made him anchor here would never return to free him.
Boat awoke with a start when he felt himself being sucked deeper into the waters. His thoughts raced, “Have they finally found a way to sink me? Was my struggle until this moment all for naught?” until he realized he had stopped descending into the water, but instead felt a heavy weight within his hull. The hoofed beast began to bray, seemingly as perplexed with its new predicament as Boat. “Sea creature, remove yourself from my stern,” cried Boat, “no matter how many more limpets and mussels inch up my hull, I will not give in!” The creature, oblivious to Boat's cries, attempted to make as little motion as possible for fear of its small platform giving into the water below. Boat's cries of resistance echoed until nightfall as he felt his newly exposed sides begin to corrode.
The layer of once fresh, dazzling white paint on Boat was finally overcome by crustaceans to the same degree that his belly had been overwhelmed long ago. Upon finding that he could cajole the creature into returning to the sea as much as he could remove the monsters from his underside, Boat had concluded that the creature was perhaps not aligned with the sea. It in fact looked to be in pretty terrible condition; tending to sleep all day, its skin yellowed and seeming to protrude in every direction. The stench alone drew other animals that Boat thought he would never view again; great flying birds and even the tiniest insects that seemed to materialize from the rolling horizon were drawn to the presence of the hoofed beast.
Though the presence of other creatures was comforting at first, Boat became more concerned with their increasing numbers. With each wave of beasts that came to experience the sleeping creature, more began to roost on the boat, calling it their new home. “I thought once that you were my allies, fair creatures, but now do you shove me deeper as well? What is it about the thing resting on my bow that draws so many? Creatures of the sky, begone, lest we both drown with my strange cargo,” but no matter how much the boat pleaded, more and more came. Boat's hull was rotting, full of the salty water and monsters that had been eating at him for so long. As one more great Frigate descended to join its comrades, bits of water began to edge in over the sides of Boat. “HELP,” cried Boat as he felt the icy waters begin to fill his insides, “DEAR GOD GET OFF OF ME, SOMEONE HELP!” Neither the birds roosting and chatting within him nor the sleeping beast seemed to notice his pleas until Boat was so covered in ocean that they no longer had a place to sit. Boat's world darkened as he descended, his spirit broken, all while the creatures floating above watched indifferently.
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