Nothing But Blue by Diane Lowman

Author:Diane Lowman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2018-12-07T16:00:00+00:00

Land Ho

June 29, 1979

33.8688 S, 151.2093 E

Rumors flew around the ship like the odd white birds that circled us. We wouldn’t get into Sydney for a week, they said. Dockworkers in Australia had strikes and slowdowns often. It could take days to unload and load once in. The talk swirled with the birds. The closer we got, the louder it got. With every squawk I calculated and recalculated our arrival date back into New York in my head.

“That would put us back on August 27,” I said to Ingo. “I’ll never make it back for the start of school.” He smiled and wiped his hands on the apron that struggled to circle his belly.

“Ya, ya. They can start without you I’m sure!” He nudged my shoulder. My distress amused him. I should have fretted to myself.

On June 29 we finally got close enough to see the big island continent. “Land ho! Land ho!” I wanted to shout from the nonexistent crow’s nest, like a crazed pirate too long at sea.

We anchored and waited. A wash of terra-cotta-tiled roofs dotted the hills by day; at night the lights ringed the curve of the coastline like strands of diamond clusters. Like Pip longing for his beloved Estella, I saw Sydney as “tangible yet unattainable.” It was almost too much to bear after seventeen days of ocean, to see it, to imagine my toes touching an unmoving surface, my ears hearing proper English, and being understood rather than ribbed and ridiculed, but still to be stuck on the ship.

That night at dinner, I asked Karl if he knew the name of the birds that dove like bombardiers around the ship all day.

“They’re not seagulls,” I said.

“No, they are . . . let me think of the name in English.” He tugged at his tight blond curls. “Albatross,” he said.

I laughed out loud.

“What? Why is that funny?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing. There’s this famous poem, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” I said, “by Samuel Coleridge. A sailor kills an albatross, and they force him to wear the carcass around his neck as punishment. We have a saying in English about a burden being like an albatross around your neck.”

He mulled this over for a moment. I could tell he was translating and trying to make sense of it. He kept twisting his hair as if it helped him think. Finally he laughed. “I see. So perhaps we are your albatross?” He laughed again. I didn’t, even though I knew he meant no harm.

“Or perhaps I am yours.” I headed up to await our grand entrance into Sydney Harbor in my cabin where I could curl up in my window well and watch alone.

Just as I slipped the key into my lock, the captain opened his, startling me. In all the time on board, we’d never bumped into each other at our doors, even though they abutted. When we did meet he only barely nodded in acknowledgement. He’d scarcely said a word to me, and I suspected he did not welcome my presence.

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