‘I was a packer. It saved my hands. I would bind Chris and May’s fingers each morning with strips of cloth cut from old flour bags, and tie them up with thread to try to protect them from being slashed or nicked by the knife. The knives were sharp, very sharp. If a cut turned septic ye’d be sent home.’ Alessandra looked down at her hands, at the once strong brown fingers. ‘It’s hard to believe the speed at which the girls worked. We stood by the farlins, big open troughs, and they brought the herring there straight from the boat and emptied them in. They were gutted and graded in seconds, and I packed the barrels. One layer, tails this way, the next layer, tails that way, and so on. And the salt o’ course between them a’. Seven hundred fish in less than ten minutes. The barrels were left for nigh a fortnight to let the fish settle and the ullage topped up each morning with more fish. Then a Fishery Board inspector sealed and branded them.’
‘Did each barrel need to be passed by the Fishery Board?’ asked Saskia. ‘In Peterhead this morning the buyers tipped out boxes to inspect the fish underneath.’
‘It wasn’t compulsory, but a branded barrel sold for more than an unbranded one.’
‘Were the fish graded by size?’ asked Saskia, thinking again of the boxes in Peterhead fish market.
‘Their quality was set according to their own life cycle,’ said Alessandra. ‘See, forbye them moving through the sea with the months of the year, the fish had their own season within the shoal, and ye named them and graded them for that. Matties were maiden fish, fat before the roe was grown in them. Fulls were full of fish roe and ready to spawn. And Spent were the ones whose time of spawning had passed, and they were valued the least.
‘Now as I think on it, it seems to reflect our journey through life.’ She smiled at Saskia. ‘But it is time you had a happy story from this house, and I was happy then, very happy. We were a’ young and full o’ life and had no time to dwell on things. So many people. All around the quays, with the boats and the fishermen, and the curers and the carters, and children running between, and the talk of the girls, and the cry of the gulls, and the sweet, sweet smell of freedom.’
Alessandra smiled. ‘I can hardly go tae any harbour and see and smell the boats, an’ the fish, an’ not think on it. There was a rhythm in it all. The rhythm of life itself.’
In the arctic seas huge jellyfish, two metres across, feared by fishermen for tearing nets and stinging the skin, shelter the cod fry between their poisonous tentacles. Drifting with the tides they carry the baby cod, protecting them for the crucial first days of life, away from their predators to the safer inshore waters.
‘Investigation into fish and fishing has been going on for a very long time,’ said Ben. ‘Probably since Stone Age man stood, spear in hand, by the edge of a stretch of water trying to catch fish.’
He was standing with Saskia looking at the display in the reception area of the Fhindhaven Marine Research Station, waiting for the education officer to join them. He placed his finger on the map of the British Isles to where the northeast shoulder of Scotland thrust out into the sea.
‘Do you know that Kinnaird Head appears on a map plotted by Ptolemy over two thousand years ago?’
Saskia moved closer to see the point of land near Fraserburgh. She was aware of Ben’s breath on her cheek.
Ben turned his head. He looked into her face. ‘You have extraordinary coloured hair,’ he said.
Saskia stepped back. ‘I think the sun here has lightened it.’
‘Mmmm.’ Ben nodded, not taking his eyes from hers. ‘It suits you.’
Saskia held his gaze and felt herself smile. ‘Thank you.’
He nodded again, and then glanced over her shoulder. ‘Here comes Ailsa.’ He raised his voice. ‘Our wonderful education officer. I’ve asked her to give you a guided tour.’
‘Watch it, you.’ Ailsa smiled at him. ‘Careful of this one,’ she said to Saskia. ‘He’s forever trying to get people to work extra-long hours.’
Ben grinned. ‘Always in a good cause, though.’
‘I’ll grant you that,’ said Ailsa. ‘It usually is something worthwhile.’
‘I’ll leave you with Ailsa.’ Ben touched Saskia on the arm. ‘Catch you later.’
‘I expect Ben’s been showing you the display boards,’ said Ailsa,‘so I won’t go over that part of the introduction again.’
‘What?’ Saskia turned her attention to Ailsa. ‘Sorry, yes, we did have a quick look at them.’
‘Well, you can read them later in as much detail as you want, but from earliest times humans have been interested in marine life, mainly as a source of food. If you look at items recovered from ancient historical sites then you can see that our ancestors must have put a certain amount of thought into designing something even as basic as the fishing hook. Now in order to do that, it’s obvious that someone studied a few different aspects of marine life. Nowadays we still see the sea as a resource to be used – for food, oil, gas, minerals – but recently there has been a greater urgency to balance the environment. We know that we have to preserve and conserve or we will jeopardize the future.’
‘Do you think we are almost at crisis level?’ Saskia asked as she followed Ailsa on her tour through the various aquariums and labs.
‘Yes,’ Ailsa replied seriously. ‘But it’s a hard fact for people to face. For a start it isn’t obvious, except to those involved in scientific research, and then there is the very real issue that, for the peoples of some nations, it’s a choice between survival and conservation.’
‘I think Ben takes it very seriously,’ said Saskia.
‘Ben is incredibly dedicated and cares deeply about his work,’ replied Ailsa.
Saskia recalled Ben’s conversation with Neil in Alessandra’s kitchen. What she had taken for arrogance in Ben had in fact been someone speaking confidently about a subject he knew.
‘The North Sea itself is quite shallow, but there is a deeper stretch of water going into the Atlantic known as the Faroe Shetland Channel. A huge amount of extensive research is planned for that area in the future. Ben is working with our hydrologists who are studying ocean currents. We’re devising programmes of simulation to track how nutrients are distributed. Water movements of enormous depth and distance bring phytoplankton to the surface for zoo plankton to feed on. The fluctuations of the plankton are crucial to the planet. Larger sea creatures feed on smaller ones, big fish eat little fish, and many fish rely on the plankton. Colonies of sea birds all over the world do too, and so does,’ she added with a dry laugh, ‘the greediest predator and major polluter of the planet – us.’
In one of the labs Ailsa had set up some specimens for Saskia to inspect. Saskia looked through the microscope at the tiny sea organisms, some less than a millimetre in length. Could the future of the planet depend on something so minute?
‘We’ve had ocean research vessels going out from the Northeast for over one hundred years.’ Ailsa showed Saskia the library and archive files. ‘I spend the odd afternoon browsing through the older research papers here. I find it amazing the amount of detail collected in ships that had so much less high-tech equipment than we have now.’
Ailsa led Saskia from the library to the staff room, talking as she went.
‘An official Fishery Board was established in Scotland in the eighteen eighties with a remit “to improve and regulate the fisheries”, but there are many other organizations involved in marine research. Ben has probably told you about the Gatty Laboratory at St Andrews University where he studied. There are others located around the British Isles and Northern Ireland, and we have contacts with similar types of research world wide. Are you interested in marine studies?’
‘I don’t know . . .’ Saskia hesitated.
‘The subject is so wide-ranging. From studying tissues in labs to trips on our research ships. The Arctic is a favourite of mine – the colours within the ice are spectacular. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to decide to live anywhere until you’ve spent a year or tw
o in the place.’ Ailsa smiled. ‘Some winter days, up here, it’s dark at half past three.’
‘And the summers?’
‘The summers can be beautiful, though there aren’t as many really hot days as you would get further south, but’ – Ailsa smiled – ‘the sky is light until after midnight.’
‘I saw the aurora borealis the first night I arrived,’ said Saskia.
‘That would be last week, wouldn’t it? One of the girls who works here said she had seen them. She lives on a farm. I think they are more noticeable if you are away from street lighting.’
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ said Saskia. ‘It was stunning.’
‘At the risk of sounding boring, I think natural wonders of the world outclass anything man-made.’Ailsa handed Saskia a mug of coffee. ‘Have you thought about taking up marine studies in any structured way?’
‘Not really.’ Saskia leaned back into her chair. ‘When I was little I loved being near the sea, but my parents’ attitude was that it was a childish thing that you grew out of. My father especially was always very uneasy about my fascination with it. He came from a fishing family where there was a lot of tragedy. And as I got older I did as he suggested because I wanted to please him . . .’ Saskia stopped. ‘It sounds pretty stupid, doesn’t it?’
‘Not at all.’ Ailsa picked up her own coffee and made a face into the mug. ‘I can empathize with that. I was exactly the same. My father was a marine biologist and I wanted to go into teaching. So to please him I did one of the marine-based courses at Aberdeen University and then teacher training afterwards. I find this job very fulfilling, but it took me years before I was doing what I wanted.’
‘At home it was always sort of understood that I’d eventually go into my father’s property business,’ said Saskia. ‘I think I’d like this type of work, but I’m not sure if I’m attracted to the work itself, or being near the sea, or—’
She had nearly mentioned Ben’s name and Saskia felt her face go a bit pink, but Ailsa seemed not to have noticed.
‘Well, taking a summer placement is certainly the way to get an insight without committing yourself.’
Saskia sipped her coffee. Her mind was now a mixture of confusing thoughts. She had to be sure that she was taking the job because she wanted to. Not because she was attracted to Ben, or even because of the lab’s physical location close to the sea.
Ailsa put her head on one side and looked at Saskia. ‘If you do decide to stay here for the summer, what will your parents and your great-aunt think about it?’
Instinctively, Saskia knew that her great-aunt would be happy to hear her news, and felt a little glow of pleasure at Alessandra’s reaction when she told her.
Alessandra’s face coloured and her eyes smiled out in the briefest flash, then she masked them again. ‘You must do what you want to do, Saskia. But you are most welcome to stay here.’
‘I don’t have to,’ said Saskia. ‘The Research Station said they could probably find me cheap accommodation.’
‘I’d be glad if you stayed here.’
‘I would be able to contribute to my keep,’ said Saskia.
‘Oh, child!’ Alessandra let out a little cry. ‘That is not an issue. You eat like a sparrow and anyway, I am not so poor that I cannot share bread with you.’
Her father’s reaction left Saskia shaken and confused.
‘What kind of work is this? You can easily find a job in London where you don’t need to be away from home.’
‘I thought you’d be pleased. I’ll be spending more time with Aunt Alessandra,’ Saskia said in a small voice. She hated any disagreement with her father and sensed a major row looming.
‘I don’t want you getting any strange ideas. I thought I’d managed to get all that sea nonsense out of your head years ago.’
Saskia held the receiver away from her for a moment. Nonsense? she mouthed in the air . . . Nonsense!
‘It’s not nonsense, Dad,’ she protested. ‘It’s valuable work. You remember I found that sick seal on the beach. Well, they think a virus is attacking the seal population. If it becomes an epidemic they’ll need a bit of support.’
‘A few seals dying off isn’t a major concern, surely. You’ve got more important things to do.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like doing what you’re supposed to be doing,’ her father snapped. ‘Talking up Alessandra to invest in my property development. I don’t think you realize how important this is to me.’
To you.
‘Who have you been listening to anyway that’s got you thinking about doing this? Alessandra would never have made this suggestion. Someone must have put the idea your head.’
‘I am capable of having an idea of my own, Dad,’ Saskia said stiffly.
‘No you’re not.’
Saskia gasped.
‘You’re not, Saskia,’ her father insisted. ‘You’re not able to make a decision like this. You never have before.’
‘I can. I have. I decided on my trip to Nepal.’
‘Don’t be silly. It was me who did that.’
Saskia’s stomach fell away. For a moment or two she couldn’t speak. ‘What do you mean, you decided on the trip to Nepal?’
‘Of course it was me. I got the maps, didn’t I? I looked up the information.’
Saskia gripped the receiver. Her father had bought books and magazines that featured Nepal, cut articles from newspapers, spotted adverts for treks around Katmandu.
Why?
‘Why?’ Saskia put her thoughts into speech. ‘Why did you want me to go to Nepal?’
‘It looked like an interesting place.’
But now Saskia knew there was more. He did not take so much time and trouble over something without there being another reason.
‘Why?’ she shouted into the receiver. ‘Why Nepal?’
‘You were talking about Australia. Some crazy idea about swimming off the Great Barrier Reef—’
Understanding came to Saskia before he had finished the sentence.
Nepal is landlocked.
‘You knew that I was determined to go off somewhere but you didn’t want me near an ocean for weeks on end.’ Her voice shook. ‘Why not?’
He tried charm. ‘You know I have only your best interests at heart, Saskia,’ he said.
‘You have an emotional hang-up about the sea,’ she said bitterly, and didn’t care that she was repeating one of her mother’s phrases.
‘Don’t be impertinent.’
‘It wasn’t meant to be.’
There was a silence. ‘Yes,’ her father said finally, ‘I do have concerns about any career for you connected with the sea. And with my family history it’s understandable. But apart from that, it’s more sensible for you to come into the business with me, so I really need to keep you on target.’
‘What about what I want?’ said Saskia.
‘But this is what you want,’ he said. ‘You always said that you’d come into the business with me.’
‘No, I didn’t. You said it.’
‘But you never said otherwise.’
‘I tried to. You don’t listen.’
‘Come on, Saskia,’ he wheedled. ‘Be fair. You murmured a few protests from time to time, but you never fundamentally disagreed.’
He was right. She hadn’t. For the most part they got on well together and he had told her how much fun it would be to go abroad on property-buying trips. She felt herself waver. Simpler to go home at the end of this week and get on with the rest of her life. Through the window of the call box she could see the boats in the harbour. There were tears gathering behind her eyelids.
‘Saskia?’
She pushed the door open a little with her foot to get some air. Through the noise of the gulls she heard a boat engine turn over.
‘I’m taking this job for the summer.’
She heard her father’s sharp intake of breath. Then he said, ‘I won’t be able to send you money.’
Saski
a stared at the phone mouthpiece. He had done this before. If he did not approve of her actions, he withheld financial support; but more importantly – Saskia experienced a moment of clarity – emotional support.
He withheld his love.
There was a cobweb in the call box. In a corner of the roof silvery filaments spread in a complex concentric pattern. A work of technical engineering brilliance, beautiful to behold. She saw the insect trapped there, a fly, one wing fluttering, still alive and, Saskia knew, it would still be alive when the spider decided to cocoon it. Did it feel comforted to begin with, she wondered, as it was wrapped round with the delicate silken thread? To be swaddled against the world was comforting. It relieved you of the need to make decisions. And it would be so much easier not to hold out against him. For she knew her father’s behaviour pattern. Any moment now would come the blistering rage, one of the terrifying and dangerous outbursts that she dreaded, that she’d do anything to avoid.
She heard herself say, ‘Actually, Dad, I’ll be nowhere near the sea. It’s mainly indoor filing of records, paperwork mostly.’
‘Oh. I didn’t realize that.’
‘Yes,’ she prattled on. ‘Great-aunt Alessandra says I can stay on with her for a bit. I’ll be able to get to know her better and that will fit in with whatever you’ve got planned.’
So now she had become a deceiver. She had lied to her father – well, perhaps not quite lied, but moved the truth sideways.
It was what he did.
All the time.
He had told Alessandra that she, Saskia, desperately wanted to visit her, which wasn’t true. He had passed off as his idea the suggestion that she should bring her bike, when it had been Alessandra’s idea. Her father tampered with the truth to get what he wanted.
Now she had done the same.
Alessandra put down the book she had been reading.
‘I do not know how to answer your question truthfully, Saskia. There may be more than one reason why your parents stopped visiting me. Your father once told me that you yourself had said that you did not want to come back here, that you had been so frightened by the storm you were terrified to return and he did not want to force you. But it was not a complete puzzlement to me that your father did not come back to visit me after the summer of nineteen seventy-six.’ Alessandra lifted her head and looked directly at Saskia. ‘Your memory in your dream was correct. Your father was angry with me.’
Saskia's Journey Page 10
