Mother Ocean

From a very young age, I learned about the power and danger of Mother Ocean. Not from personal experience, mind you, but from an event that hit very close to home. In the early years of my life, my father was owner and captain of two groundfishing boats. When I was about five years old my dad lost a boat and two of his crew members at sea. It was a devastating event for the family of the two victims, who were brothers, as well as my own family. Since then my parents worry a great deal about me, their only child, being on the water.

There have been two instances in particular when I realized how much my parents worry about my safety on the water, understandably so. The first was a few year ago when a handsome young fisherman took me out fishing and to dinner on his boat. I had gone down to the Cove with the intention of rowing out to the mouth of the Harbor and catching a mackerel when he offered to take me. So off we went for a fun evening on the water. When we were motoring back into the Cove we came across my parents on my dad's boat. They were just sitting in the boat and looking into the water when we first saw them from a distance. They followed us in and I met up with them at the dock. I asked my dad giddily "What were you looking for?" My dad said angrily "You!" and then gave me a big hug and promptly stormed home. Later he told me that he'd gone down to the Cove and found my shoes in the boathouse. He thought that I was swimming, but I was nowhere to be found. That's when he thought something horrible had happened.

The other instance, I'm embarrassed to say, took place not too long ago. I was an apprentice at a local boatbuilding school. Each apprentice had the opportunity to go for a "solo," which entailed spending the weekend on an island alone as a time to reflect on one's life. My solo took place in November. I went out to Marsh Island with another apprentice, but we were to stay in different cabins and interact very little. We rowed a dinghy out to the island on a beautiful, calm day and spent a lovely but cold weekend out there independently. When it came time to return to the mainland on Sunday afternoon, the northerly wind had picked up considerably. We were determined to get back, so we set out. Instead of rowing around the north end of Loud's Island, I had the brilliant idea to row around the southern tip and continue on to New Harbor. I figured it would be easier to row with the wind than against it. What I didn't consider was that the wind would be more intense to the south, which is more exposed to the open ocean. We got half way across the Sound and panicked. It was choppy. I called my dad on my cell phone and then the battery died. So we pushed on, our hearts racing. After we had crossed the Sound, it was smooth sailing under the lee of the shore. We sped along, rowing in unison and singing all the way to Back Cove. I was exuberant when we finally reached my home port. The harbormaster and my fishermen friends were all in a bustle on the dock when we pulled in to the float, but I didn't yet realize that it was because of me. My parents had been panicking and asking for help to find me. They were out on the harbormaster's boat of the harbor that we departed from looking for us when we reached land. Again I realized the consequences of my actions and how little knowledge I had of the ocean. It was a humbling experience for sure.

Luckily neither case was life-threatening. Perhaps my parents are a little over-protective of me, but they, unlike me, have witnessed and experienced the grief that ensues when loved ones are lost to the sea. Although the ocean can be a fun setting in the summer, one must always have an awareness of potential dangers. As I've seen time after time, things can go in a hurry with boats, equipment, and weather. There are plenty of opportunities for misfortune or tragedy. Every wise seafarer must have a healthy respect of the Ocean. A human can't outsmart her or beat her strength. She is all-powerful and as unpredictable as the wind.