‘You can single-handedly take on hairy-arsed oyster pirates but you’re scared of a bit of water?’
‘Yes, and look where that got me,’ I say, referring to the oyster pirates.
‘I said you took them on. I didn’t say you took them on and won,’ he says with surprisingly good humour.
I look down at the decking along the jetty and can see the water under it, moving around, making my head swim.
‘And that’s not a bit of water, it’s a lot of water.’ I feel like a petulant child. ‘I can’t, I’m sorry. Ask Nancy. I’m not your woman,’ I say, walking away feeling stupid and pathetic.
‘Oh yes you are,’ I hear from behind me, and before I have a chance to answer, my feet are swept up from under me and Sean has me in his arms walking back up the jetty.
‘You can’t do this! Put me down!’ I demand.
‘Yes I can,’ he says, matter-of-factly.
‘Put me down!’ I want to hit him, push him away, but find myself clinging to him for dear life as he walks down the jetty towards the boat. What if the jetty gives way? What if we fall in? What’s down there? He marches on.
‘There’s nothing to be scared of,’ he says evenly. ‘You just need to trust me.’
‘Trust is a very overrated emotion,’ I squeak, tucking my head into his neck, my eyes shut. He smells so goodand I wish he didn’t. I wish I didn’t want to stay hiding away with my eyes shut and my head in his neck for a very long time.
He puts me down and I open my eyes. I’m right on the edge of the jetty. I cling to him to stop myself falling in. I’m so terrified that I follow his every instruction and get in the boat. Every now and again as the boat sways I let out a little squeak, like a young child, or maybe a pig.
I clutch the sides tightly while taking the seat he points to. I sit absolutely stock still, barely breathing. My knuckles are white from holding on so tight. I take a quick look at the dark water to one side and wish I hadn’t. Sean is working away with ropes, nimbly moving around the boat. My lifejacket is rubbing at my jaw and cheeks and pushing up my ears. I feel like a tortoise ready to retreat into its shell. I check out the location of the lifebuoy and fix my eyes on it.
Sean gets into position by the rudder and gently starts to move the boat away from the jetty. I stop breathing altogether. He’s looking up at the sail and back at me alternately. I just don’t move and wonder how long this dreadful ordeal is going to last. I feel like a contestant onI’m a Celebrity…Get Me Out of Here!Only I’m not a celebrity, I’m a nobody.
We are now nearly in the middle of the bay and I’m reminding myself to breathe intermittently. I am completely surrounded by water. My worst nightmare. The sails are flapping and thankfully we’re not moving too fast. I keep my eyes fixed on the rocks on the other side of the bay. I can see where we’re going, which I’m happier about. When you grow up with a crazy parent you like to know where you’re going. That’s why I think I was happy with Brian. He’d mapped out our lives for us. Then he cut me adrift, just like I feel now.
‘Look, those are the oysters I showed you on the first day, you didn’t know what they were,’ Sean says abovethe breeze. I nod. It’s all I can do. ‘I said it wasn’t important.’ I nod again. ‘Well, they are important. It was a test.’ He looks back at me.
‘What? What kind of a test?’ I feel suddenly affronted. We’re out of the bay now and making our way around a headland of rocks.
‘Shh!’ he suddenly says. And I feel even more affronted. He’s the one who’s brought me out here and is asking me the questions, and now he wants me to shush.
‘But—’
‘Shhhh!’ he says again with his finger to his lips. ‘Seals.’ I follow where he’s pointing. At first I have no idea what I’m looking for. And then I see it. A dark brown, shiny head popping up from the water. I catch my breath and cling tighter to the sides of the boat. It’s both fascinating and confirming of all my fears. Anything could be swimming below us and tip us up. Then another head pops up. On the rocks beyond, there are two others lying out. One rolls over, stretches and slides into the water.
I’m entranced and terrified at the same time. They’re behind us now and we’ve moved into a second bay, beyond the path I walked on the first day.
Sean loosens the sails and we slow to a stop.
‘Look below you,’ he instructs. ‘Look on the sea bed,’ he nods over the side of the boat.
‘I can’t,’ I shake my head firmly. I feel sick.
He lets go of the rudder and comes over to me. I try not to squeal out loud, but don’t know if I manage it as the boat rocks from side to side.
‘It’s OK. I’m here and nothing’s going to happen. What you need is a day at my sailing school.’
‘It’s the last thing I need,’ I answer quickly.
He says nothing but puts his hand over mine. ‘Just do it. What’s the worst that can happen?’
‘Oh, I could be catapulted out of the boat, find myselfdrowning in black waters, being dragged down by who knows what … nothing bad, really,’ I say, hating the sound of my own sarcasm. I sound like my mother.
‘You won’t be dragged down into black waters because you can see the bottom. I promise.’ He’s kneeling in front of me, staring right at me, and I feel a flutter of excitement in my stomach. I want to trust him but …
