Maisie And The Sea

Maisie Bell stepped timorously onto the gangway from the solid quayside. There was no great sense of movement, no dipping or bucking. All was calm in here at the harbour and anyway these big ferries barely shuddered in strong seas, let alone at dock. So that shiver must’ve come from Maisie as she stepped aboard, not the boat. Well that’s fine, she told herself, no-one would notice that and she stepped lightly on, keeping pace with the teenagers in front and not holding up the family behind.

None of them would have a clue this was her first time on a ferry, or any boat of this size. Her husband hadn’t liked boats or anything to do with the sea. They had always flown when they’d needed to get across an ocean. Maisie had looked down with many a pang from climbing planes at sparkling blue expanses, white crests appearing and disappearing restlessly, and wondered at the craft she’d seen down there, ploughing through the limitless blue with confidence and purpose. And now here she was, all of a shiver.

Dolphins! A young boy was shouting as he pointed to the stern of the boat. They’d pulled out from the harbour and were underway. Maisie was still marvelling at the smoothness of it all as she sat perched on the upper deck surveying their progress, but she followed the boy’s waving arm and saw the smooth grey backs of the dolphins as they kept rhythm with the ferry’s branching wake.

She was amazed and looked around her at the other passengers with wonder, ready to share this joy, for surely they would all be as awestruck as she. Some of the children onboard were indeed looking gleefully sternwards but most of the adults had barely glanced at the sight and Maisie was struck anew by her inexperience in these things.

Was she supposed to ignore the dolphins? It didn’t seem right. What was wrong with people, that they could ignore such a great display of nature connecting with humans? She checked herself a little. Well, nature connecting with the machines of humans then. She turned to a middle-aged man sitting near her and smiled.

“Aren’t those dolphins amazing?” she said. He looked up from his newspaper and smiled back, which encouraged her somewhat. But he didn’t speak. “Have you seen them?” she persisted.

He looked up again and brought his paper into his lap. Maisie thought; he is being patient with me. “Oh yes, they do that regularly,” he said. “They seem to enjoy the waves from the boat. This is your first time on here?”

“It’s my first time on any boat this size.” Maisie said. She thought she sounded quite proud of herself for this but didn’t mind. She suddenly realised that she had wanted to tell someone this was her first time out, that it was okay to tell people these things. The man was nodding and smiling at her. He looked like he was having a small debate with himself about whether it would be okay now to go back to his paper.

“My husband died.” Well, thought Maisie, I didn’t quite mean to say that, but never mind.

“Ah. I am sorry.” Now he looked relieved that he hadn’t picked up his paper again, because she hadn’t finished speaking, but also a little worried, perhaps, about where this was all heading. So Maisie thought anyway. He was a nice man and had been all he’d needed to be for Maisie so she would leave him be, she decided. She nodded at him and smiled and sat back a little to signal to him he could resume his withdrawn state.

She wondered whether her husband would’ve been delighted with the dolphins. He loved nature, but he hadn’t liked the sea. Not quite a phobia, he’d had, but certainly an avoidance. Something to do with a bad experience going under as a boy. She had often thought it a shame. But she had loved him for sure. She missed him, wished he could’ve seen the dolphins, tasted the air, felt the tang of the sea breezes up here.

Looking up she noticed the seagulls, masters of those same breezes. They glided along just above the heads of those on the upper deck, keeping speed with the boat and seeming to barely move a wing muscle. Effortless and free, ever so cleverly they kept pace, while surveying the humans below, presumably for food opportunities, Maisie supposed, although she did wonder whether they actually did it because it was fun, like the dolphins. It really did look like fun.

Then she remembered she had some sandwiches with her and, producing one from deep within her bag, she tore off some of the crust. Two seagulls flew above her, eyeing her closely. She tossed the crust upwards and one caught it expertly before peeling gracefully away amid a cacophony of cries from its comrades who set off in pursuit. Maisie stood and let out a little yelp of delight, clapping her hands delicately together.

She did not notice the stern looking crew member approach her until she turned. “Please don’t feed the gulls. They can frighten passengers.” The blank, well trained face addressed her, then pointed at a sign Maisie hadn’t seen that underlined the point.

Maisie nodded sheepishly and looked around at the upper deck. It was a look that said, come on now, where is the joy? Refusing to be deflated, she headed down to explore the rest of the boat more thoroughly.

Inside, people read, slept, played cards and found ways to amuse their children. They ate and drank too. Maisie found the bar, which had a queue. Fleetingly was she tempted to join it, but found herself drawn back out onto the lower decks, where, she quickly concluded, the thrum of the engines and smell of diesel gave you a proper sense of being out at sea. She leaned on the rail and gazed into the roiling green depths, feeling still a thrill at the dip and rise of the boat against the battling water, finding herself loving this sense of flow down here nearer the waves.

What a determined journey it all felt. Married happily for most of her adult life, but barred from such experiences as this. It was a little confusing, a little sad, but it had been a good life and she had felt fulfilled and happy. Across the water she watched as another ferry ploughed its way back towards the shore she’d come from. So, you cannot go back, she told herself. You must go on. Only 60, still plenty of miles to go and she was thrilled to make some of them sea miles.

Slowly, she made her way forward to the front of the boat, staying close to the rail, feeling connected to the wide blue beyond. A few other passengers were out here near the bow of the ship, silently contemplating the vista ahead. To the right, there rose a headland, close enough for Maisie to make out white houses scattered across the hillside, heathery hills, tumbled rocks. To the left, further away, another outcrop, dark and inscrutable at this distance. Their way lay between the two.

The breeze was stronger here. It carried nothing but the sea and Maisie lifted her face to it. Nearby a young woman came to the rail and did the same.

“How I love the smell of the ocean!” she said and Maisie looked at her wide smile and nodded hugely. Finally, here was someone who understood the joy of this place, this passage through the wondrous sea. She felt she couldn’t really give words to this, but nor could she stay silent in the face of such welcome kindred spirit. She gasped and laughed as a stray smattering of sea spray anointed the two of them.

“I’ve never felt it like this! Never been on such a boat! I – I have never been on such a voyage.” She managed, then stopped, feeling that’s enough – it would need to be enough, her senses were overcome and she clung to the rail.

Her new companion stayed in place, gazing not at Maisie but ahead at the horizon, bracing slightly for the next pitch of the boat as the waves became larger the closer they got to the gap between the two headlands. She was nodding vigorously and Maisie could see this was meant for her. She was grateful and needed nothing more, just then, but to be braced there against the rail, feeling the sea and the power of the boat going through it, waiting and hoping in harmony with this happy stranger for the next stray flying shower from the sea.

She realised the intensity of the waves and the spray would continue to grow as they slowly entered the gap between the headlands. It was wider close up, this gap, but the sea knew that beyond it there was no confinement, no restrictions. It is getting ready for that, Maisie thought, and edged ever nearer to the bow of the boat.

This edging forward was being matched all around her. Maisie and the smiling woman had been gradually joined by several others, all intent on the progress of the boat as it neared the gateway to the limitless ocean beyond.

The boat changed course slightly to bear away from the nearer headland and the breeze dropped, leaving a stillness upon them all.

Those minutes of stillness were an eternity to Maisie. In them she saw the fullness of her life to date and the mystery of her life ahead. In them she felt the absolute rightness of being here, now, amid these other seeking souls, gazing through this ocean to the future. Tears came to her then, streaming freely, and she was so glad for them. At last! She laughed and cried altogether, letting go, making room.

Then the boat turned again, cresting the growing waves, sending spumes of spray over the bow, drawing a collective cry of joy from the watchers. They were through the gap! A blast from the ship’s horn matched their elation. Ahead the sea!