The Grey Lady of the Sea
Luckily, there was a washing machine available at the Martha’s Vineyard Family Campground as I prepared for my adventure to the Nantucket Book Festival. The well-known flowers on the peach dress were in dire need of a bath. Droplets of rain on the windows of the RV added an umbrella and light sweater to the always ready doggie diaper bag. Gail, my camping neighbor, having been to Nantucket, recommended not taking a vehicle there since everything in the town was walking distance.
Off to the ferry with my first mistake under the belt when I walked up to the door at the ferry office to find a sign, open at 9:00 am. My ferry was scheduled at 9:05 am, something was amiss. It dawned on me that the Hy Line Ferry must leave from a different location, so my planning turned to dashing. Quickly finding the Hi Line terminal, I ask about parking the car for the day. Mistake numero dos, parking in the 4-hour spot. I might still make the ferry if I run to move the car. Laden with accoutrements as usual, I opt for a roll of the dice, a ‘worst case’ $25 ticket, and I calmly proceed to the line for boarding. A great bet, by the way; none was issued.
Ready to find the Grey Lady of the Sea
Talking to a local gal in line next to me, I ask if there is a ‘better side’ of the ferry for viewing and she guides me to the right where I will have a great shot of the lighthouse on approach. Sami and I select a table and seat arrangement toward the front of the sparsely filled ferry for a private booth style seat normally for six people. Not surprisingly, no one joins us, and we spread out above (and below) the table. Other than one older couple (oops, my age!) in front of us and a younger behind us, we are delightfully alone. Fifteen minutes into the ‘high speed’ ride, there is a loud metal on metal grinding sound and the ferry slows. Another grind, slow, grrrrr, stop. The captain announces we have taken something into one of the propellers and need to do some ‘motor reversing’ to try and rid the something or other, “this may take a few minutes” his comment.
Who needs Emotional support on this ride?
Random droplets have morphed into a full-on misty rain, and I look around for those life jackets hiding under seats I vaguely heard mentioned when I sat down. Texting my family just in case, I decide talking to the ‘older’ couple would ease my anxiety. Sami also begins a very uncommon chatter. A series of engine reverse noises produces no success. The captain assures us we will still head toward Nantucket, albeit one engine off so the ride will be delayed. A slower pace produces an amusement park ‘ride the waves,’ a cross between a slow roller coaster and a tilt a whirl. I head to the snack bar for ginger ale to help my discomfort. Sami gets a half of bagel for hers.
Luckily, the captain’s calm was right and as we approach the now Greying Lady of the Sea. As advised, I’m able to capture a daunting misty covered lighthouse at the entrance to the harbor off the tip of the beach. Images of the well-known whalers’ fog of Nantucket flash by, and I text my husband, the King of trivia, surely my ‘lifeline call’ if I were ever on Who Wants to be a Millionaire, to recall the book about whaling stories here. An instant text response, “Heart of the Sea, the story of Captain Pollard and the sinking of the Essex in 1819 by a whale and of course Moby Dick. Mental note taken, to stop at the Whaling Museum and send Jim pictures of the typical Greek Revival houses of the time, Sami and I take our step back in time as we exit the carousel ride to visit this mystical place.
I consider the umbrella, but it appears we are actually just standing in a cloud of mist as we exit the ferry. I add the sweater, but a cold chill creeps up under the clean flowers. That local lady in line had also directed me to ‘follow the cobblestone street’ to the Methodist church where the first speaker I earmarked for the Book Festival, Jean Hanff Korelitz, would begin at 11:00 am. Mistake number 4, now a search for warmer wear took precedence. I ducked inside the first store with a warm window display off the cobblestone street, Faherty Nantucket. Traditionally not a good shopper, a salesgirl was quick to rescue me from myself. I pointed to colors I liked, and she dressed me in a yellow hooded pullover with a setting sun on the back. Looking disheveled now with the dress, capris and sandals covered with the lovely new warm sweatshirt, I pointed to my legs and asked if she could help with something longer.
Chuckling to myself, I handed Sami’s leash to Kaley (her name escapes me, but she totally looks like my daughter’s good friend Kaley so that’s what I’ll call her). I hear Kaley talking to customers about her new friend Sami, and I’m beaming in the dressing room at what a fabulous ambassador she is. Deciding the newly cleaned dress and sweater can go in the doggie bag, Kaley approves of my new outfit, and we chat about her work in the store. Surprisingly, she visited the Indigo Hotel and Riverwalk for a couple of weeks to set up the company’s new location in Naperville next to the Apple store. We marvel at this small world, and I re-enter the cobblestone path to the Methodist church. Of course, I have missed the Author’s talk, but I find her new book, The Latecomer (no pun intended), according to Stephan King, “The suspense quotient is through the roof” a deciding factor. Fending off disappointed, I grab a place in line for the Author to sign instead.
Louise Penny, Author of seventeen books touting Inspector Gamache, a muse of her husband, Michael, will talk at 1:00pm. Sami and I head for a quick cup of lunch chowder and a walk through the Whaling Museum beforehand. The lyrics to the ‘Nantucket Sleighride’ running through my head, I sit for the story of the Essex under a looming skeletal structure of the crew’s demise. Suspended over a typical whaler’s boat below is the enormous whale capsizing the doomed members of the excursion. Images of whalers dragged by the giant harpooned animal like a sled of scared dogs through the open sea, dubbed a Nantucket Sleighride, pop into my head. A walk through the history of whaling in Nantucket is fascinating with all the items used from the whales captured in display cases; blubber for oil to light lamps, bones used to support women’s corsets, make lamp shades, and long bone walking canes. The teeth of the whales were used to illustrate tall tales upon, passing the time for sailors sometimes spending years at sea.
Not wanting to miss a word of Louise Penny, our museum visit was cut short to jump back on the cobblestone road. Sami and I find an empty seat up close to the author’s chair. A lively and entertaining speaker, Louise shared her life stories with wit and charm. I was amazed at the development of Inspector Gamache, her husband’s mirror and her favorite of all characters in the series of seventeen books taking place in a town called Three Pines, much resembling her own hometown. Listening intently for tidbits of wisdom should I too draft a book; it strikes me how people in our lives frequently become the characters to write about. My life is full of these inspirations! Louise ends with a mention of Inspector Gamache’s words to live by: “I don’t know, I need help, I’m sorry, I was wrong” and I make a ‘written’ mental note here to incorporate this wisdom in my own life.
Afraid to spend too much time in a line for Louise’s signature since I still have two things on my agenda before the return, hopefully smoother ferry ride, it’s a photo snapping walk that Sami and I opt for, easily capturing the look and feel of the Grey Lady of the Sea. The Brant Point Grill at the White Elephant Hotel, on a grand lawn facing the harbor is the last place to visit on my itinerary. A fabulous finale with the now lifted fog-hat on the tiny island. I enjoy a glass of Pinor Noir, my favorite wine and a burger, no bun my frequent choice. The watchful waiter keeps Sami’s ice water, in a portable bowl from my doggie paraphernalia, full to the brim. Always in search of the next adventure, I know reading Moby Dick, or the Heart of the Sea will fill my creative hat to its brim. The Grey Lady of the Sea sharing her historic beauty with the author’s secrets found at the Nantucket Book Festival, leave my writer’s soul satiated again, for today.
