The ocean swells have tamed my heart, and set my soul at ease.
At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself. I don’t actually believe it, but it’s my new mantra and I figure that if I say it enough, it will come true.
My first day on the boat was about what I expected, which is to say it was difficult and exhausting. We woke before sunrise and walked down to the docks. It felt like a ghost town, except for the faint wisps of smoke curling from a few chimneys. The orange glow of candlelight flickered in windows as we passed. Shadows moved beyond where the light could reach. The ocean was calm save for the ebb and flow of tides. Looking down the row of boats, each one bobbed to its own methodic rhythm. Aldan had finished some of the morning tasks the night before, so we were the first boat to leave. By the time the sun crested above the horizon, Finnr, Aldan and I were out in the deep, half way to nowhere. The sky was clear and the stillness of the morning had followed.
Finnr eased off the throttle and let the boat glide to a stop. It rocked back and forth in the remnants of its own wake. The silence crept over me. Both he and Aldan came to the back where I was sitting and took a few minutes to explain the process. I tried to pay attention, but as I looked around at the empty expanse, my mind wandered. I imagined all the different ways I could die; drowning, starving. . .
“Once we set the nets, we’ll circle back and start pulling them”, Aldan said, waking me from my daydream. I nodded and tried to focus, but found it difficult. Finnr stared at me. I hadn’t admitted to either of them that I didn’t like being on the ocean, but I was sure they could tell. I felt stiff, like every muscle in my body resisted the urge to panic. It was impossible to relax. I wished they would come out and say what they were thinking. We all knew that I didn’t belong.
Throughout the day, Aldan would come over and correct me if I was doing anything wrong. It was like what Halla did in the garden, yet unlike Halla, he didn’t have an unlimited supply of patience. There were more than a couple heated exchanges between us. In the end, I recognized that I was the one out of my element and despite his age, he did have knowledge that I needed. I know that sounds pretentious, but everyone struggles taking advice from teenagers.
By evening, I was still making mistakes, but would catch them quicker without prompting. The work was monotonous, like pulling weeds in the garden, except much more physical. As we headed back toward land, I looked down at my blistered hands. I couldn’t remember the last time I had worked so hard. The feeling of dread that had occupied my thoughts on the way out had dissipated throughout the day. There was something about physical labor that allowed me to focus my energies elsewhere. As I was thinking about the reasons, I felt the uneasiness creep back over me. I cursed, realizing that I had set myself up for a panic attack. I sat on my chair, gripped. After a few minutes, my mind wandered.
By the time we got back to the docks, I had fallen asleep, but woke when Finnr killed the engine. My neck hurt from being slumped over against the side of the boat. Bleary-eyed, I stumbled back up to the house and fell back asleep.