Tall clipper ships were moored by the mouth of the bay. They stood tall and regal in the morning light, the sun behind them cast a scattering glow on the waves turning the water to a shiny, glittery surface. The clipper ships with their multitude of masts and frenzied assortment of cables stood taller than most trees around. Flags of reds and yellows hung from the mast, drifting slowly in the slight ever-present breeze. The sails were rolled up on the spars, held together by so many different leather-colored straps. The ships’ hulls were painted a magnificent deep red and the upper parts were painted black except for the ridge of white along the railings. The decks of the ships were dormant except for a few people walking about the buildings and equipment on the deck. Oh, these ships were so magnificent! I remember seeing them come into harbor. The sails were out and caught the breeze perfectly, the ships sailed at a slight angle due to the pressure of the wind. At a controlled speed they slowed, and the sails were removed. The boats, over a hundred feet long each, rounded to the wind and dropped anchor. They came loaded with spice, cloth, metals, and much more from across the globe. Making record time due to the unchanging wind allowing for a straight course from port to port. It was all cheer and celebration when the ships came in. Their boats rowed into harbor with the products and materials that had been in the ships hold and returned with supplies for the next voyage. My home was in a small town on an island. The ships were our only connection to the lands far away that I had only heard stories about. The ships sent everything to us, from materials, furniture and equipment to spice and food that we could not process on our island. In return we sent them what we could: supplies for the next journey and raw materials that we farmed and mined on the island. It was a mutualist relationship. Our island profited on a large supply of crops, fish, ocean crustaceans, minerals, and some livestock. Very little of it could be made usable on our island because we had no refinery to turn ore into usable metals, no textile mill to manufacture cloth out of our wool, and no factories to provide us with anything that we would want. While we were able to make a limited number of things on our island, most of the “advanced” products came by ship to us. The ships come multiple times every year, sometimes one at a time, sometimes there are multiple in the harbor. I see them come in from and I enjoy watching the sailors and workers scurry about and do their tasks on and of the ships from my vantage point on a hill above the entry to the harbor. From where I sat, I could see the ships in full view as well as the village by the harbor-A large wooden mess of houses and buildings with softly drifting smoke rising out of their chimneys. I enjoyed watching the ships but most of all I dreamed of being on the ocean on one of those ships and seeing the world. All my life I had never been anywhere except the island. While the island had plenty of opportunities for me, it was all the same, I craved adventure, I wanted to explore, and go places in my life. My parents were simple orchard farmers, I was destined to be an orchard farmer and so would my sister and brother. We lived on a hill overlooking the point (only a small walk away from my favorite spot overlooking the bay) and next to our house was our orchard where I was put to work from my family. Even though the orchard farming did not require much education, my parents believed every child should know a bit about the world to function better in it even if this information would never be used. Still when my years of lower school were over, and my education was to be concluded, I implored my parents to let me stay for just a few years longer. I had been the best in my classes, I had read every book in my village (there were not many), and my teachers had said that I could do great things if I could get a more expansive education. My parent were against my plans of getting more education due to how this would not be useful to me as a an orchard owner or worker. They thought there was no point as I would never leave the island and I would never do anything besides pick fruit. The biggest reason they had against my education was that when I was learning, I was not helping out with the children or the family business, It was not profitable for them. Eventually my parents decided that I could get a few more years of learning If I really did show promise and enjoyed it. Since then, my sister was born, and I finished school. My parents were told that if I was sent to the mainland to get a college degree, I could maybe be rich and famous. My parents said, “No”, that I had to help out at home, and that was it. Money was hard to come by. My dreams of doing something bigger were over...
...A few years passed: my parents extended the land and grew more fruit, I worked hard, and I watched the ships sail in every month. I look at the sparkling waves once more before I turn back into the forest. I take the trail back to home and then take the main road down the hill towards town. I disappear a lot, my family sometimes wonders where I am. Usually when I am free of chores, I walk off into the forest to my secret spot overlooking the bay, alone and peaceful where I sit and contemplate. In town, the main street goes straight down to the main docks. The town hall, a large, shingled building made out of clay brick is halfway down this street. There is a general store where my parents buy supplies, an inn, and then you get to the bay. Down there by the water are a few large wooden warehouses that store all the supplies that will be loaded onto the ships as well as everything that is unloaded from them. These buildings are notoriously filled with rats and the rotting wood with holes confirms it. Next to them are the ship supply buildings: sailmakers, blacksmith, rope makers, wood piles, and general buildings. I turn behind a few trees and bushes and I am on the main street. At the other end I see the water and past it, the ships. The cliffs at each side of the bay stand like silent guarding statues which one day a long time ago, had helped secure our village from invaders. I pass the church and the town hall which are in the wealthier part of town. Up here, all the buildings are a combination of stone, wood, and plaster with tall chimneys and colorful roofs. The further you go to the sea, the more derelict the buildings get until the turn into empty lots for new construction. The church and town hall are empty today. The pub is as well but I am sure that by tonight it will be full of drunken sailors telling stories of their voyages to foreign lands. Occasionally I will stop by there to take in some of the stories as due to them being from the mainland they know much more than the people on this island. My parents and schoolteachers told me a simple story about how the mainland was basically like the island but much bigger with more ships, more people, and more factories. On the mainland there are magnificent cities with shining buildings that reach all the way to the sky. I’m sure the island people have a pretty skewed perspective of things in reality but I caught every word and absorbed everything I could like a sponge. I found books about the mainland and island history and read them cover to cover where I learned of basic principals that are used in the mainland. But still, the sailor’s stories are by far the best. As well as the mainland, they spoke about the lands they have been to such as China, Europe, Africa, etc. They spun yarns about how they saw giant octopi who terrorized ships and how they made the perilous trip around Cape Horn or against all odds survived the worst of storms. I know that these sailors can be exaggerating in their drunken state as the more they drink, the more impressive their stories get but still I listened as if all of it was the truth. At this point I get close to the warehouses by the bay. Turning the bend by the main dock and walking along the waterfront street framed by the shipping supply and repair buildings I find the warehouse cat... [to be continued]
