Every day as I make the journey along the cliffs overlooking the river, I think of him. The sailor who captured a part of my heart and would not let go.
I remember my childhood growing up here, a time when I never realised that the sea actually came in azure blue. Close up, the silt of my county’s bedrock swirling it tidally into an impenetrable brown sludge, which obscured my feet as I paddled.
Watching the estuary spread out before me. Across the moored cruisers to the little sailing boats criss-crossing through each other and avoiding the path of the tankers in the shipping lanes. From this distance, the block colour of the big stretch of water reminds me of the greyish-blue tint of his eyes and that far-away gaze that had seen horizons greater than I could ever dream of – with not a hint of land in sight.
That definitive line where the sky merges into the sea. With himself and his colleagues aboard what seems a behemoth in dock – now just the merest dot dipping and rising between the swell of each enormous wave in the vast, empty expanse of ocean.
She had called to him persistently during his time ashore. It had tugged at him endlessly, his desire for those great, open, wet spaces and the camaraderie of his fellows. No matter how hard I had tried, I couldn’t fight the allure of one of Nature’s most powerful creations. She was his real mistress, leasing him to me for a few short moments whilst her hold on his heart remained eternal. Until, eventually, she called him back to the warmth of her bosom.
His greatest love and his destiny.
Now, he is just the man at the helm, the peak of his hat shading his eyes as he stares forward, guiding the vessel through her foamy embrace… and out of my life.
I wonder if he will ever truly come back from the Sea.
Recent Bites