Sure Sea Steady
gliding through trenches
One stormy autumn, stormier than now, I photographed this jelly singing off my bow. Gliding, still and soft stormy through storms which some thought epochal, and which were much more than that.
I wintered through those storms near Cowichan Bay, Vancouver Island. I wrote a little then, too. Here’s a little something I wrote, which reminds me of storms now, though storms now are stormier, as I’d advised folks so long ago, storms would be:
i heard last night that a southeaster is the only wind that will raise the winds in the marina. right now there is a gale force southeaster. it started last night, while i slept, making me feel, in that pre-conscious just before waking way, like my mother was rocking me in my cradle too hard. deeply uncomfortable to wake up to. then it started rising. feeling more like a three year old stirring her soup, if the bay was her soup and that three year old with her spoon, was a half mile tall. winds of 30 to 40 knots and a wave roll i didn't want to look to closely at, because of the... proximity. to sea level. on the port side. meaning the left side, in nautical terms. port, in my definition, meaning something like, 'my god the boat is listing on the left side, and if i was outside i think i could stretch my neck and kiss the face of that wave. i wish i had a bottle of port so i could drink it and pretend i was being rocked in my cradle by a gentler fairy godmother, instead.”
i decided to just surrender to it. i got dressed. i opened up all the curtains. i did some stretches. i practiced my balance. i watched the bows of the other boats rise and fall more feet than i cared to count. i felt joy at not getting seasick. i felt joy at having such good balance. and i felt joy that there is a kind man in the marina nicknamed the sheriff - a new zealander who has lived here for 23-years - who double-checked my mooring lines for me earlier monday, and told me i was tied up like a battleship. and mostly, i felt joy at letting myself love a midnight storm, and my own initial primordial fear of it.
i did go to sleep, eventually. and i did sleep like a baby, soothed by a gentler fairy godmother. which is a good thing. because storm is stormier today. and the entire marina is moving like a drunk jigsaw puzzle; boats and docks rising and falling and leaning and curving, the prows of some of the sailboats jutting into the walkway like lost pirates with whisky-soaked sabres. and i'm not sure i can step properly off the boat until the sea settles a little, because a step off the boat feels more like a leap off a galloping pony, to a little liquid earthquake. beautiful to surrender to, on the big boat itself... but i'll wait until the wind shuts itself up a little, before heading to land - unless one of the wild swans is kind enough to lend me her back for a quick ride to shore. because they still came gliding by the aft deck, looking for breakfast number 2 or 3 or 4 or 5, or whichever number'ed stop my ladyship is, along the way of their day of many breakfasts.
Yours in Chivalry,
Lise Voldeng