Chapter 58: Silent Sea

We followed Heather down the pathway to the rocky intertidal expanse and picked our way toward the rowboat that sat patiently in the shallows. Between us, we silently pushed the craft into deeper waters, until it floated freely with enough clearance for the extra weight it would now carry. Heather held it steady as first Lara and then I got in. She joined us with a nimble leap.

I studied the rowboat as I sat in the stern with Lara. Though clearly aged, it was sturdy and well-maintained. A thick clear coat protected the wood underneath. Forward of the center thwart on which Heather now sat, the morning harvest was draped over the gunwales, lying between short posts that acted as a type of comb to keep the seaweed strands in place. Two lines were attached to the breasthook: a long black rope tied to a weight, and a dark green coil that rested on the flat bottom.

The gunnels supported some sort of hinged rowing mechanism that was rather unusual. As Heather started pulling the oar handles, I realized that she was facing forward. Although I could see the decided advantage to this system for navigating the rocky barrier that protected the shallow cove, for a moment I wished that the boat had regular oars, because then I could’ve watched her face as we traveled.

Still, I was content to watch her back and admire the flare of her waist, something I’d surely missed. Her arms worked the paddles with power, not unexpected after so long a time befriending them. Her hair was tied up loosely, and the light wind caressed the free strands. The wetsuit, which hugged her form so intimately, was well-worn and marred by a ragged repaired patch that crossed the left shoulder blade. A sewn seam about eight inches long swam through the tattered neoprene. I looked at Lara’s suit, finding it much newer and free of any rips. Heather had been gracious enough to take the old one for herself, apparently.

Lara gave me a nervous grin, as if to say, ‘What’s next?’

‘You never know with this girl!’ I shrugged back with a smile.

My insides were admittedly still feeling the aftershocks of our earlier reunion. Indeed, the intensity of the last six months was only now starting to dissipate as the dream-like vision of meeting Heather again began to feel real. We’re actually here with her! As I came to this realization yet again, I heard a familiar calm voice echoing in my head. Then slow down and enjoy each moment...

I snapped out of my distracted wondering and took a few deep breaths. Lara took my hand and gave it a squeeze. Looking around at the sea, I let the remnant anxiety of the past fall away even faster, and a wash of tingles swept from my head down through my body.

Slow down...

The gentle waves pitched us a bit as Heather rowed out through the maze of rock formations that jutted out here and there. The marine life was vibrant, as barnacles and starfish and anemones and urchins and all manner of sea plants swayed in the micro-currents that brought them sustenance. We floated quietly over and past them.

In time, the dark rocks disappeared and eventually gave way to brightly colored little floats instead. Marking the locations of lobster traps, each buoy was painted in vivid bands to uniquely identify them.

The sounds of the sea continued to grow in our ears as we moved steadily into deeper areas. There was no hurry, though. This felt just like Lara’s and my twice daily walks to and from town, a free and present enjoyment of each evident detail.

The swells grew stronger as Heather pushed us over them with ease. Eventually I realized that she seemed to be making for a solitary buoy that floated ahead of us. Remarkably, the waves were calmer in the area, despite being in open waters. We were certainly not in the shallows anymore, and for a moment I wondered if we were floating above some giant underwater seaweed forest, with rippled strands stretching dozens of yards up from the depths. The thought made me shiver. I stared through the surface but could only see endless blackness. Are we going to be diving? I glanced at Lara, and this time she gave me a shrug.

Heather let go of the oars as we pulled alongside the float, at which point I noticed the paint scheme. I had to grin. Silver and cobalt blue...

The buoy had several lines tied to its bottom eye; they all disappeared into the depths. Heather reached into the ocean and drew up one of the ropes, a short one with a clip on the end that she connected to the bow. The rowboat rotated as the current took over, but then the connection went taut and we were anchored.

Heather turned around to smile at us, a look that made me quiver.

“This is my little corner of the water,” she murmured, her voice already sounding like it was ready to hibernate again. “A very peaceful place ... So, last chance to say whatever you want, before we enjoy the quiet for a while.”

“We love you,” Lara whispered without hesitation.

I didn’t feel the need to add anything more to that, so I just squeezed Lara’s hand a bit tighter and smiled at Heather.

“Then let’s jump in,” she said. “And once we come back up, no more talking! We’ll get right down to business. We have a little time left for this low tide, so you can ease into it with a short first session. But after that...”

We carefully stood up in the surprisingly sturdy craft, Lara and I on opposite sides of the thwart, Heather at the bow.

“See you on the other side!”

She grinned at us as she counted us down, and then we leapt into the void. It was a giddy feeling as I fell, even if it was but a couple of feet. Not quite the Montauk pier! Still, just before the surface enveloped me, there was an instant of sheer wonder, realizing that the world was wide open.

The rowboat remained tethered to the buoy, swimming in the sea with us and enjoying the new soundlessness of her charge. We spent our time in the water not harvesting seaweed, but rather collecting looks from each other, taking in the sight of our faces and eyes and expressions. It was a constant effort to do this, and therefore it was well-earned, because the smooth ocean swells never let us rest or linger, constantly shifting us relative to one another ... As we swam to stay afloat and keep our heads above water, we stole what moments we could, only when everything would line up just right ... And little by little, end to end, the moments started adding up until we’d collected for ourselves a few more seconds of eternity.

Sometime later, we climbed back into the boat and Heather rowed us toward land. We reached a small rocky islet, where she picked up the rudimentary anchor and threw it into the sea. Heather soon tied off the extra length to the bow and the swells pulled on the old craft once more. Heather opened a plastic tub, revealing three short knives. She grabbed one and gave the other to Lara, leaving the third in the container.

Heather gestured to me with two fingers. ‘Switch places... ‘ She took up the coiled green line and clipped it in a loop around her waist. After tossing the rest of its length into the water, she slipped over the side, the blade between her lips. She offered a hand to Lara, who followed her in with a wary eye on the knife she was holding. I could tell my sister was also nervous about swimming near the jagged rocks, but she soon found her footing since the area turned out to be about four feet deep at present tide.

As I watched from the boat, they waded over to a large clump of dark greenish-brown kelp. Heather reached into the mass, feeling along the holdfast of one plant. She exposed the desired area to Lara, then carefully made the cut. Once the long strand was free, she pushed off and floated back toward me. She tossed the algae over the forward gunwale, where it landed neatly amongst its sister strands from her earlier harvest. I gave it a slight adjustment, but it was purely cosmetic since Heather had draped it so that it was perfectly balanced. Mostly, I touched it so I could feel the interesting texture of this plant.

Heather sliced off a few more strands as Lara braced herself against the waves, content to observe for now. At last, Lara reached into the stand and found the stem union. She looked at Heather expectantly, indicating the location of her intended cut. Heather adjusted Lara’s blade slightly, and then nodded.

A sudden swell caused Lara to lose her balance and she fell backward. Heather grabbed her arm before she was pushed against the black rocks. After making sure Lara was steady, Heather pointedly glanced around, raising a brow. ‘Careful!’ Lara gave her a grateful nod and went back to find her cut location.

In time, both of them were harvesting from the area. Heather seemed to be able to toss the lengths over her shoulder right onto the boat, but I soon realized why she had left me onboard. Someone had to collect Lara’s errant throws! I laughed silently, knowing that I was going to be attempting it myself soon and that I probably wouldn’t fare much better than my sister.

I continued to watch carefully, caught up in the moment, trying to take in every detail. I noticed that whenever Lara tried to make a third cut on the same plant, Heather would shake her head and point at the next cluster. Two raised fingers confirmed the conclusion I’d formed.

After a time, I figured I’d make myself useful. I untied the anchor line from the breasthook to allow some slack into it. I was intending to grab the oars and row along after the girls, since they were wading further away. This proved much more difficult than I expected, since as soon as the tension was removed, the boat started drifting in unseen currents. And, it was in a direction away from them... Uh oh... ! I almost called out in warning, before catching myself.

I scrambled to man the oars and counter the movement, but I realized I was too slow. As always, the sea was not fond of giving second chances, so I watched with some sense of trepidation as the green tie line between the rowboat and Heather’s waist straightened. As it snapped taut, she was suddenly yanked backward into the water.

Shit... It hadn’t been very hard, but it didn’t look gentle either, and she had been facing away from my folly and therefore wouldn’t have seen it coming. After a bout of worry, I quickly realized that this wasn’t the first nor the twelfth time that Heather had been through this very experience. As soon as she splashed in, she was pulling herself along the line, hand over hand. I finally had the presence of mind to stop rowing and tie up the elongated anchor rope again, stopping the drift. She was hand-walking along the side of the boat and around to the stern, easily pulling herself over the transom with the help of one of the waves. After taking the knife from her mouth, she gave me an amused smile, as if to say, ‘That was a nice trick, Matt... !’

I made a sad frown at her, but she instantly put a finger to my lips and shook her head, still smiling. Then she moved the finger to my forehead and took a deep breath.

‘Breathe... ‘

I did. That seemed to reset my brain. While Heather rowed us back toward Lara, I took up the slack in the anchor line. My sister had wisely kept to safe footing on the rock pile during the episode. Once Heather was holding the craft in place with gentle oar work, I tied off the line once more.

She handed me the knife. I examined it, wondering if I had the skill to carry it as she had, and not lose my tongue. Then again, I didn’t really need a tongue anymore, it seemed. Heck, cutting it out will probably save me from blurting out something stupid in the coming days! So, between the teeth it went. The hard, cool metal of the blade did not sit there easily, and it took focus to not slacken the jaw pressure inadvertently and have the tool slip out and disappear into the depths. I went over the side. Rather ungracefully I thought, but I was a baby at this, I was quickly finding out. Heather’s amused grin at my ungainly splash landing agreed with my assessment.

Soon I swam near to Lara. Her own look was perhaps a bit more scolding than Heather’s had been, but I just took a deep breath and turned my mind to the task at hand. For a time, I enjoyed watching the foliage swim. The patterns were complex, never quite the same. I touched the green skin, reveling in the infinite smoothness of it as it danced in salty brine.

I was fairly confident I knew how to cut, but I still turned to Heather with my fingers wrapped around the planned slice. ‘Like this?’

She nodded at me after peering at my suggestion. The ebb and flow of the waves certainly made things more challenging than I expected. The kelp seemed to respond to a different water-force than my body did, often swimming away from me only to swirl back and envelop me in its slick grasp as I chased after it. ‘Overcorrection’ was never part of my plan, but it certainly appeared to be my main method for a time, as I tried in vain to get steady in the flow.

I watched, paddled, held on, and when the confluence of knife, stem, and turning swell were lined up, I sliced. Admittedly this a very rare event, especially at first. But I did score the occasional success. Now the throw... But Heather made it so easy. She lazily pushed on the oars, nudging the nose of the boat near me so I could drape the strand into place. ‘Thank you, love,’ I smiled. Right away the bow rotated toward Lara to collect her own offering, even as Heather’s grin replied to me in welcome.

In time, Heather anchored and returned to the water. She switched with Lara, who struggled but eventually managed to pull herself into the boat. She was content to watch us, fixing my continually poor throws with a knowing smirk.

Even after getting the hang of the basic idea, it was uneven toil. At times, I’d cut as quickly as I could while we drifted along the underwater forest. At other times, heavier waves made me cling unproductively to the rocky outcropping, waiting out the barrage. It wasn’t the worst thing, though, since it gave me the opportunity to watch Heather at work. She was wholly unfazed by the periodic assault. When she sent me a sweet look, I widened my eyes at her, ‘Do you ever stop?’ She shrugged and then smoothly dove under the crashing breaker, appearing behind it and five yards away at another patch.

It was beautiful labor, seeing her dance with the seaweed. She floated and drifted among the greenery like a graceful fish. Somehow, she seemed to know what the currents and waves were about to do even though she never looked at them. I noticed that she closed her eyes each time she made a cut, a momentary expression of grateful reverence. It gave me a chill to see. I was a baby, yeah, and she was an old hand.

I could’ve watched her for hours, even years, but that would just be an act of waiting.

Don’t wait...

I returned to harvesting, carefully and slowly working the next few clumps. At times, tiny crabs would scatter out of the forest, surprised by the flash of the blade. They’d pulse their legs as they shot off to the more permanent safety of the rocks, looking like miniature flying saucers. Occasionally they left a contrail within a school of minnows that seemed to populate the area.

It was rather incredible to see all this life that we took for granted, if we even knew that it existed. At best, most people would consider seaweed a beach nuisance, black detritus that piled up neatly at the high tide line and interfered with paddleball and made the air stinky for sunbathers. But here it was, providing shelter for life, growing and regrowing year after year. I felt bad cutting them, until I realized that this was yet another way they could provide for others. The labor of years upon years, never complaining when they were harvested.

I continued at it, though my strength was flagging quickly. I knew I was activating muscles that weren’t used to being tested, even with all the odd jobs I’d been doing earlier that summer. I was ever reacting to the changing conditions, flailing with a foot here, twisting my arm there, heaving seaweed over the gunwales with only unsteady buoyancy to react against...

When we’d about doubled the amount Heather had gathered during the first part of the tide, she climbed back into the boat. It was clear that the water had been rising steadily during our efforts, as many rock tips were being increasingly swallowed by constant waves. I followed her into the craft, and since Heather had sat herself next to Lara on the stern thwart, I took to the rowing position despite the remnant burning in my arms and my shortened breath.

Luckily, Heather tapped my shoulder before I could get to raising the anchor. ‘Turn around... ‘ and she looked at us both. ‘Nice job,’ she grinned.

I gazed over my shoulder at the mass of sea vegetables. First harvest is done...

She unzipped her wetsuit down to her bellybutton and slipped her arms out of the neoprene. I couldn’t help but stare. Her black bathing suit was sporty and functional, but it also looked so damn tasty. Lara and I soon copied her example, and it was the most pleasant sensation to feel the sea air caressing our arms and chests. It was getting a bit warm, but the clouds kept the sun from pelting us too heavily. Still, Heather had made it a point to slather sunscreen all over us before we’d set out.

Once we’d stretched out our bodies, Heather gathered up the thermos and a Ziploc from one of the plastic containers. She passed the water to us as she ripped some soft rust-brown material from the contents of the bag. She offered the leathery wad to Lara, who examined it curiously. Heather laughed, silently of course, and then tore a piece for herself and ate it. Then I had my own rip in hand, and Lara and I tasted the seaweed together. It was surprisingly good. Quite salty, yes, but a rich taste that spoke of minerals filtered from the sea. We drank amply and relaxed for a time, finding ourselves reaching for the snack repeatedly, drawing on its warm sustenance and ironically ‘earthy’ flavor.

Once sated, Heather put the bag away and looked at me with a smile. Again I was transfixed. She then gave Lara the same gift, and I could see the love between them, spoken through their eyes, certainly louder than I’d ever noticed.

Heather gestured to me, a suggestive shrug. ‘Time to row back?’

Before weighing anchor, I took a moment get my bearings. Then we were free and I was pushing water toward the open sea behind me. A few times, Heather tapped me and specified the proper channel to navigate. I studied the rocks. They were unique, but with so many it was hard to fix a picture of the pattern.

As the cliffs grew before us, Heather indicated that I should instead head toward a set of wooden stairs that clung to the face, some hundred yards to the right of where our camp trail was. A natural channel led to the destination, and given the calm waters of the little cove, I soon had the boat scraping up onto a gravelly landing.

Heather was already hopping out, and she walked over to the staircase to collect a stack of well-worn wooden bushel baskets that rested underneath the first flight. Lara and I needed no instruction, and soon we were gently transferring the seaweed to the containers. Heather got our attention as she hefted her bin and gestured to the stairs. ‘You need to be able to carry it!’ Lara tested hers, before giving me a look. ‘Can you take more, Matt?’ I pulled some of the seaweed from her basket and placed it in mine.

When the three were filled to a weight of our liking, we started the ascent along the stairs. The escarpment was somewhat higher here than at the camp, and the effort expended was significant. I focused on placing my feet carefully on each step, not wanting to drop the precious cargo.

The steps mercifully came to an end and we traversed the grassy expanse of Birgitte’s back yard to reach the drying area. We passed through more gardens, and I marveled at the bright bloodshot tomatoes, verdant beans, and lilac eggplant that seemed to call out to me. Tufts of bumpy kale waved to us as we trudged by. Melissa would love this...

A very large black tub sat near the drying arbors. Heather lowered her basket into the basin and gently tipped it. Like dozens of eels, the kelp swam out and settled into the bottom. Lara and I did the same with our loads.

We took the tourist tour in about thirty seconds, as Heather briefly let us look in the work space and office. Though rustic and comfortable, I could tell that they were foreign lands to her. After showing us the location of the bathroom, she flicked her head towards the ocean. ‘Another load!’ My arms tingled as she started the return journey down to the boat again, gathering the emptied baskets on the way.

As she walked before me, my gaze fell upon her bare left shoulder. My breath sharpened, as there was a heartrending scar there, long since healed but clearly not a mere surface injury. I recalled the wetsuit patch and seam, and immediately had a vision of Heather being slammed against a sharp rock edge. Lara saw it as well, because she ran to catch up with Heather and placed a gentle hand on the old wound, her eyes full of concern. Heather merely smiled as she reached over her shoulder to run her hand across Lara’s. I shivered slightly, as it seemed that the message of the scar was meant for Lara and me, as much as anything. The sea, reminding us of her power to both create and destroy, keeping us honest and respectful. Hopefully we won’t have to learn it quite like Heather did...