by ANN HYMES
“No, it’s just something I brought from home.”
“Carrying around your valuables here?” The woman’s hearty laugh caused her layered chins to jiggle. “Shouldn’t bring things on a boat that might fall overboard,” she continued, still staring at the bag. “Except for children, of course.” She laughed a bouncy kind of laugh that caused her whole upper body to shake.
Theresa was grateful that the bench was bolted to the floor. She wanted to get up and move away, but she realized she would be with these people, trapped on a boat, for the next several hours. There would be no escaping.
She had brought her father’s ashes in hopes of slipping them privately overboard. It was not a place for ceremony, she realized, as she looked around at the motley crowd, chewing gum and jockeying for positions at the rail. She stared at the faces and wondered about the lives, the marriages, the disappointments of these people. And she decided she didn’t want to say goodbye to her father in the company of strangers.
“We’re ready to go,” a voice boomed through a loudspeaker. “We expect calm to moderate sea conditions today. Please note that smoking is not allowed inside or on the lower deck. Also, the Coast Guard requires life jackets be available for each …” A sudden loud screech ended the announcements, and Theresa felt grateful for the return to nature’s sounds of seagulls and water lapping the side of the boat. The sun felt warm.
Then engines began to stir, and the smell of diesel fuel blanketed the scene. As heavy lines were lifted from the pilings, the boat slowly, and noisily, inched its way out into the harbor. Children scurried from side to side, searching the water for signs of fish and throwing bits of crackers and hot dog buns to the circling gulls. Anticipation was building for the adventure ahead.
“Hi, I’m back,” said the same voice from the earlier blasting. Theresa looked up and saw the young woman who had taken the tickets. Her hair was loosely braided and twisted on top of her head; she held a megaphone.
“Now we’re in business.” She sighed and laughed. “And now we’re ready to talk about whales. My name is Hannah, and I’ll be the naturalist on board today to talk to you about whales and their environment. The biggest problem facing whales is man. Fishing lines, propellers, illegal hunting in some countries, accidents, and foolishness take huge tolls on whales. We need greater care in protecting them.” She paused, as if debating whether to pursue this topic or go on. “I hope we’ll see some humpback whales today. Their calves are really playful, but the adults are not very fast, so first I want to tell you how they get their food.”
She held up something brown that looked like a section of coconut frond. “This is baleen,” she explained. “It’s from the mouth of a whale and is used like a strainer or screen. The whale opens his mouth and lunges into a school of fish, squeezing the water out while holding onto the mass of fish in his strainer. It’s a lot of work, but a whale can expand the capacity of its mouth like an accordion. I hope we’ll see some whales feeding today. And I’ll give you a hint—keep an eye out for bubbles.”
Theresa’s eyes scanned the open water ahead. The air began to cool as the boat left the harbor. She felt a sudden apprehension at heading out into the ocean. Her heart pounded. A mixture of fear and dread gripped her. Passing over the hidden depths of these waters made her throat catch, and she couldn’t swallow the coffee in her mouth.
She began to gasp and choke, her free hand reaching out frantically for support. The remainder of her coffee spilled over her legs, and the cup fell to the floor. Nearby passengers rushed to help her, but she ran past them to the boat’s railing and let her insides go. It was humiliating.
Someone handed her napkins, but she continued to lean over the edge, trying to regain strength in her knees and not wanting to face the curious onlookers. A man came next to her and put a steadying arm around her waist.
“You okay?” he asked.
She felt foolish and lightheaded, with only the strong desire to be invisible.
“Do you feel better?” he continued. His voice had a Southern accent that ate the “r” off the end of his sentence.
“Better than what?” she stammered, then realized how unkind she sounded.
“Better than cheap chocolate on a first date.”
“Than what?” she asked, slowly turning her head, wanting to laugh but not quite able.
“Cheap chocolate on a first date. It’s just a saying. Cheap chocolate doesn’t make much of an impression.”
“I’m not exactly in a position to comment about making an impression.” Theresa laughed, wiping her face with the napkins. “But thank you for your concern.”
He was still holding onto her, and she made no effort to move away.
“Would you like to sit down?” he asked.
Theresa nodded, and as she turned to sit on the closest bench, Hannah arrived with a damp towel.
“Feeling better?”
Theresa smiled and glanced at the man with his arm through hers.
“Better than cheap chocolate on a first date,” she replied.
“Than what?” asked Hannah, looking first at Theresa and then at the man seated next to her.
“I’m fine, really. I just had a sudden fear or something. I feel all right now. Honest.”
“You might want to go on the upper level for some fresh air,” suggested Hannah. “It’s a little breezier, but it’s farther from the engine, and the sun is wonderful.”
“Thanks, I believe I will.”
Theresa stood up, testing her sea legs.
“Okay if I come with you?” asked her new guardian, also standing.
“Sure, if you’d like to,” she answered, not certain whether she cared either way.
The man motioned to two little girls who waited nearby. They had on long pants and matching red sweaters appliqued with turtles. The littler one had buttoned her sweater by skipping a hole or two, and it bunched up across her stomach, causing the turtles to look as though they were climbing on each other.
“My name’s Jeff, and these are my daughters, Katie and Elizabeth.”
“Hi, girls,” said Theresa, heading for the stairs to the upper deck. “I’m Theresa.”
“How do you do, ma’am,” came the reply, almost in unison.
Theresa stopped and turned back, bending down to turtle level. “Where are you girls from? Where do you live?”
“South Carolina, ma’am,” answered the girl with the correctly buttoned sweater. “We’re on vacation to see a whale. Daddy says that whales are gentle, and they don’t eat people. But Elizabeth wants to go inside a whale, like Jonah.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Theresa, instinctively rebuttoning the little girl’s sweater. “Whales have their own special place, and we’re here just to watch them.”
She was beginning to imagine writing a book about two young sisters and their trip to visit a whale. She wished she had her notebook and sketchpad with her.
“But Miss Bessie said!” cried out the younger child. “She said that Nathan was swallowed up by drink. ‘He was in the belly of trouble, but safe with the Lord.’ He had to stay in that belly ’til he went holiness. ‘Big as a whale,’ she said, ‘that’s about the size of the trouble.’”
“Elizabeth, I don’t think this lady wants to hear about Miss Bessie and Nathan,” said Jeff kindly.
Properly buttoned, the child stood silent.
“Oh, sure I do. I’d love to hear more. Who is Miss Bessie?”
Elizabeth looked tentatively at her father. “She takes care of Katie and me when Daddy goes to work and Mommy can’t …” She stopped. “When Mommy can’t get up or …” She stopped again, and tears began to fill her eyes. “She makes cookies with us. Her face is black, and her apron has a big pocket.”
“Who is Nathan?” asked Theresa gently.
“Nathan is M
iss Bessie’s brother,” interrupted Katie. “He’s tall as a giant and gets into trouble. Once the police came to our house looking for him. Now he’s stopped drinking, but Mommy can’t stop.”
Katie looked down at the floor, her eyes showing wisdom beyond her years. “I love Mommy,” she said.
“We all love Mommy,” Jeff echoed softly. “And Mommy loves you girls more than anything in the world.”
Theresa looked around, wondering whether the mother was on the boat, perhaps slipping Scotch into a soft drink at the concession stand or throwing down a cold beer while the family helped a sick lady in distress. She knew little about alcoholism, but she did know from recent experience that you couldn’t turn your back on temptation. If not challenged, it will win.
She crouched down and smiled at the two little girls, so savvy yet innocent. She put her arms around them, hugging their red turtle sweaters and pulling them to her heart.
“I bet your mommy is very proud of you,” she said, feeling the longing of a parent’s love.
And then she suddenly bolted upright and ran towards the bench where she had sat with her coffee and hot dog. The family from Pennsylvania was gone—and so was her shopping bag.
Theresa felt sick all over again, but in a way that drained only her color and left her standing wide-eyed and helpless. She didn’t know where to go. The keeper of the ashes had let her guard down and carelessly abandoned her father’s trust.
“Seals!” she heard someone scream. “Look! Seals!”
Passengers hurried to the side of the boat, huddling together to catch a glimpse.
Hannah’s voice came over the megaphone. “There are harbor seals on the right side. Starboard, for you boaters. These seals usually head to Maine for the summer, but a few will stay at the Cape.”
Theresa’s eyes searched the moving crowd for the missing family or her white shopping bag. She began to stare at everyone’s hands to see what they were holding or carrying. Binoculars, pocketbooks, extra sweaters, lunches. She raced toward the rail, frantically looking for the familiar round faces from Pennsylvania. Enveloped by eager tourists, she stumbled along and again leaned over the edge. Nausea had given way to panic. An elongated reflection of her head bounced on the waves alongside the boat.
Focusing on the outline of the harbor as they picked up speed in open water, she watched the disappearing scene. She was headed for a trip with no purpose. She didn’t want to see whales or think about life where she knew there was death.
The buildings and trees of Provincetown were fast becoming distant miniatures, left in the wake of the noisy boat. There was no return and no exit. Shades of blue began to overlap in the water and sky, and excited voices danced in the wind. Theresa needed the air of the upper deck. She needed space, and she was determined to find the energy to search every inch of every level.
Heading quickly to the metal stairs, she spotted a woman with a small child dragging a large white paper bag. With the frenzy of a wild cat attacking its prey, she ran towards the woman and lunged at the little girl, grabbing the bag as the child screamed.
“Help! Help! Mommy! Help!”
The terrified woman turned to see a desperate and tearful Theresa sprawled out in disarray. Next to her was the ripped paper bag, with a satiny blanket and large brown teddy bear tossed to the side. The little girl was struggling to pick up her bear.
“Oh, Teddy! You hurt my Teddy!” the child cried, lifting the stuffed animal that was half as big as she was. “You hurt Teddy!”
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” Theresa sobbed, burying her head in her hands. “I’ve lost my father.” Another crowd began to form.
The protective mother scooped up her child and said angrily, “Are you crazy? I doubt your father would fit in a carry bag! What’s the matter with you?”
“No, I mean … He’s dead.”
“Lady, you should stay home to work out your problems. Don’t go around frightening young children with your grief!”
Theresa wiped her eyes but made no effort to get up. “I’m so sorry. I just thought … The bag …”
Her voice tried to continue, but the now-turned heads didn’t care to listen. Woman and child hurried away as Hannah appeared through the staring faces.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“That seems to be the question of the day for me,” Theresa replied, trying to regain her composure. “I’ve lost something very valuable.”
“What is it?” inquired Hannah. “I can make an announcement over the speaker.”
Theresa hesitated. “It’s a … It’s a white shopping bag.”
“A shopping bag? What’s in it?”
Theresa looked around at the gathering eyes, wishing a huge whale would surface and flip them all into the ocean.
“A box. Just a kinda heavy box.”
“Okay,” Hannah said. “I’ll check around, too, but please let’s try to handle this without inciting a riot.” She shook her head and laughed. “I don’t want to have a burial at sea for misbehavior!”
Theresa shuddered. Still sitting on the deck floor, unable or unwilling to move, she saw two red sweaters with colorful turtles approaching through the towering onlookers.
“Come on, Theresa, we’ll help you up.”
The two pint-sized girls took her hands and tried to steady her as she got up. Jeff was right behind them and once again put his arm around her.
“This is becoming a little embarrassing,” she said, but feeling grateful for her second rescue.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry to admit that Katie and Elizabeth are old hands at distress. They’ve seen their mom in situations where she couldn’t get up at all. Just totally passed out. What happened here?”
Theresa was on her feet and realizing that Jeff was directing her to the stairs, away from the gawkers and up toward the open air. They sat down on a bench slightly protected from the wind, looking like a family snuggled close together.
“I’ve made rather a mess of things,” Theresa began, fighting back tears and feeling irresponsible, without answers. She was not used to loss of control.
“Can you tell me? I’m a good listener. Are you alone on the boat? Should we get anyone?” Jeff asked.
“No, no. That’s part of the problem.” She took a deep breath and was glad to see Katie and Elizabeth turned toward each other playing a game with long black string twisted around their fingers. She continued, “When my father died, it was his wish that I scatter his ashes in the ocean, where my mother had died. I brought the ashes on this boat, and now they are missing. Right after I boarded, I knew it was not a good idea. Too many eyes, too little opportunity. And now somebody’s picked up the bag; it’s gone.”
As she finished her sentence, Hannah’s voice came over the megaphone from the lower level, asking whether anyone had seen a white shopping bag.
“See,” said Jeff, “it will turn up. You’ll see. Try to enjoy the trip.”
They stood and walked in silence on the open deck. The wind blew their clothes and hair, but the sun was warm and welcoming. Jeff directed his daughters’ attention to dolphins that followed close to the front of the boat, riding the bow wake. Their sleek shiny bodies leaped completely out of the water, diving down again with Olympic precision, splashing and twisting through the waves.
The girls giggled and pointed. Theresa felt the bond between these children and their father, and she remembered her own father’s patient love. Parenting is forever, she thought, as she realized how much she still felt her father’s influence. He would always be part of her.
“Bubbles right!” came Hannah’s excited voice through the megaphone. “At about two o’clock. See the bubbles? Keep watching. Keep watching! Whales will soon come up to the surface.”
From the upper deck the view was fabulous. It was easy to see a growing darkness just beneath the water not
far from the boat. Bubbles erupted over a broad area, and seagulls hovered anxiously.
“Keep watching,” Hannah repeated. “Whales blow bubbles under a school of fish to trap them.”
The boat’s engines idled down, allowing it to roll with the gentle current. Passengers scurried for a better view, and Theresa found herself caught up in the excitement.
Sighs of disbelief and wonder filled the air as two enormous whales came to the surface and then curved slowly back downward, their tails slicing through the water.
“Wow!” hollered Jeff, with unabashed enthusiasm. “Did you girls see that?”
He was talking to Theresa as well, and she stooped down to pick up Elizabeth.
“Can you see okay, Elizabeth?” she asked, holding her tight.
“You can call me Liz,” the little face replied.
Seconds later the whales showed themselves again. And again. Everyone was squealing with disbelief at the size of the animals and their closeness to the boat. Hannah continued to share information while all eyes onboard were riveted on the churning water.
“These are humpbacks, and they have very few external differences. Markings on their tails allow us to identify different animals, and we take lots of photographs to keep a good record. Some we have seen over and over for years. They bring their calves back, too, and we watch them grow and return. The migration of humpback whales is strongly determined by the females. They seem to like to return to what they know. Any women on board feel that way?” She laughed and paused, letting the drama have its own moment.
Hannah’s words were an informative backdrop to the incredible scene taking place. One of the whales rolled slowly over onto its back, sliding under the water and flapping its fins as if clapping for attention. It seemed not at all bothered by the presence of the boat. The day was beautiful, and these gentle-looking mammals were enjoying the luxurious freedom of their own vast environment. As Theresa saw the large eyes peer out of the water, she wondered whether the whales were fascinated by people-viewing. Their needs were food and safety from man—probably not much room for curiosity.
