Sunday, March 27, 2011

THE MERMAID AND THE BOATMAN

WIN a $25.00 VISA Card by guessing the name of the mermaid.  Only people subscribing to my Newsletter or "followers" are allowed to enter.  Only one guess per person allowed.   Email your guess to dreaminsailorman@hotmail.com  Should there be more than one correct answer, the winner's names  will be put into a hat and the first name drawn is the winner.  Family members are allowed to guess a name too but they are not elegible to win the prize - sorry. 

Near a misty isle in a quiet bay a sailboat slowly swung at anchor, light zephyrs playfully puffing through the stays and shrouds.  Sitting in the cockpit catching the last rays of the setting summer sun was a sailorman and his little dog.  As much as he enjoyed this solitude, the serenity and peacefulness, an almost idyllic setting away from the busy antics of civilization, he missed having a special woman in his life.  Times like this, a loneliness pervaded his being to the very core, making him wonder if he shouldn’t perhaps change his ways somewhat, as he didn’t think his lifestyle was too conducive for most women’s needs.
As he pondered the joys only a woman can give a man, the wind tousling his curly blonde hair clustered about his swarthy countenance, he and the slumbering dog curled alongside him were suddenly startled by a loud splash and a shower of splattering seawater.  The dog, its nape bristling defiantly, leaped to the deck’s edge growling and barking while the sailor quickly turned his head to see what had disturbed the evening’s tranquility.  Judging by the size of the ripples, he knew that whatever had made the splash had to be quite large.  Standing up, shading his dark brown eyes from the setting sun, he scanned the water’s surface surrounding the boat hoping to catch a glimpse of the mystery sea denizen and perhaps identifying it.  Suddenly, another loud splash sounded directly behind them, spraying them once again with seawater!  However, this time, when he quickly turned to investigate the splash, within the bubbly wake, he caught sight of a very large fish tail disappearing into the sea’s shadowy depths.
After a short period of time searching the sea’s calm surface, satisfied with at least the knowledge the fish wasn’t large enough to cause any damage to the boat, the sailor once again sat down.  The little dog, its dark brown eyes shining, tail wagging furiously despite its white hair streaked with seawater, continued circling the deck.  Occasionally stopping to sniff the air, it was still unconvinced that whatever caused the disturbance, remained nearby ready to splash them again should they let their guard down.  However, sensing the returned calmness of his friend, the dog strutted back to the boat’s cockpit and lay down on a cushion, resting its head between its paws.
Watching the blood red sun disappearing below the horizon, as if the sea was slowly swallowing it, his thoughts returned to the memory, the joys and benefits of having a woman in his life.  Although several women had lived onboard his boat over the years, they soon grew dissatisfied with the romantic illusion, going back to their more normal existence, having the comforts of a house, a job’s steady security.  Where are all the adventurous women he wondered, the basic ones without a need for so much, somewhat like himself, society’s self proclaimed outcast.
The brilliant red evening sky faded to golden pinks and lavenders, slowly mingling with night’s approaching indigo speckled with sparkling stars, each wink a joy to behold.  Nature’s beauty never ceased to amaze the silent sailorman as he watched the universe unfurl above him, a masterful creation.  Running his slender fingers through his thick curly hair, he yawned deeply, stood up and stretched.  Taking one last look around, as if expecting another loud splash, he pushed the hatch cover forward and descended down the stairs to the cozy cabin below, the little dog following at his heels.
Early next morning, just as the sun topped the trees, the sailorman gently lowered the dog into the dinghy that was tied alongside the sailboat and then carefully stepped down, untying the simple knots securing it.  The dog sat at the stern as he slipped the oars into the oarlocks and pushed away, rowing towards a nearby island to begin their usual walk along the beach and deer trail winding through the forest.  A slight breeze blew out of the northwest and the sun shone warmly on his back as the oars dipped into the sea, stroke after stroke, drawing them constantly nearer to the shore.  When the boat was about to run aground, the little dog jumped down from its seat at the back of the boat, ducked under his arm and positioned herself at the bow, its tail furiously wagging in anticipation.  When the boat touched the sandy shore, the dog leaped off the dinghy and began inquisitively sniffing the soggy terrain and tall grasses growing on the beach.
After lashing the dinghy to the smooth red trunk of an arbutus tree angling out just above the sea’s surface, the sailorman pushed through the undergrowth and climbed a short distance to a trail that skirted the sandy beach.  Noticing the dog was no where to be seen, he called her name, “Misty.”  Beneath the green, leafy salal shrubs he could see a white streak rushing towards him.  As he waited for her, he looked out at his boat gently rocking with the tide.  He felt good to be alive, enjoying the pungent damp odor of the rainforest, the rustling sounds of leaves and the music of tiny songsters flitting through the trees.  Early morning was the best time of day to him, the awakening of life, like being born again. 
As they meandered through the forest, the sailorman kicked at some of the pinecones strewn along the path, Misty happily retrieving them.  The feisty little dog would occasionally chase a deer if they suddenly came across one, but even a small red-breasted robin, should the bird stand its ground, was safe from harm, such was her gentle nature.  Upon reaching a meadow covered with an abundance of colourful wildflowers and tall slender grasses swaying in the breeze overlooking the sea, he noticed a sailboat anchored in the cove that hadn’t been there the previous day.  Several people could be seen relaxing on deck, most likely enjoying their morning coffee.  He casually waved to them as he passed by, before vanishing once again into the verdant forest. 
About an hour into the walk, they reached the other side of the island, the sandy beach still wet and glistening in the morning sunshine.  The sailorman leisurely combed the shoreline searching for small treasures that may have floated in with the tide and became trapped between the many rocks and tangled driftwood littering the beach.  Not finding anything of interest, he and the little dog headed back into the forest and cut across the centre of the island, soon returning where they began, the dinghy, now high and dry because of the falling tide.  After dragging and pushing the boat a short distance to the sea’s edge, Misty leapt into the bow, quickly followed by the sailor.  While rowing back to the sailboat, he decided to get his fishing gear and jig for cod off a group of rocky islets situated a little further out to sea.
Since it was going to be a hot day, the sailorman left Misty behind to escape the heat.  He watched her running back and forth along the deck wanting to join him as he rowed towards the tiny islands.  As much as he didn’t like to leave her behind, he knew she would soon settle down, curl up in the shade and snooze until his return.  He enjoyed the roll of the undulating sea as he rowed, seagulls soaring and dipping overhead, not a cloud in the sky.  Before long, the sound of breaking waves told him the rocky obstacles were very near.  Looking over his shoulder, he maneuvered the dinghy to the lea side of the largest islet jutting out of the blue-green sea.  The only notable sign of life on its rocky brow was a small bent and twisted tree which had been formed by the unrelenting wind.  
Upon reaching the desired location, the sailorman deftly attached a lure, shaped somewhat like a tiny fish, to the fishing line.  Carefully tossing the hook over the side, listening to the whir of the reel, he watched it quickly vanish until it hit bottom.  While adjusting the line to the desired depth, the boat suddenly dipped down on an erratic angle almost upsetting him.  “What the…!” he exclaimed.
To be continued...

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