Whimsical Tales of Woe

Courage to Soar

The ocean breeze ruffled my hair and traced warm tracks along my bare arms. Mists of salt spray perfumed the air, granting a crisp freshness to the summer morning. Through it was hot, the rays were not unpleasant at this time.

Dockworkers and sailors chatted in that easy laidback manner the working class had; reserved for interactions between themselves. It was charming to watch, the lulls in laughter and quick witted jeers, it almost reminded me of a dance. It was lovely, and I wanted to join, only I knew none of the steps and would only make a fool of myself. But I was not merely an observer in life; I was here after all, down at the docks, among the people.

My grin was starting to hurt my face. A gust tried to claim my hat, but drew only a laugh from me as the wind pulled my body towards the end of the pier. I dropped my small case and with one hand on one of the wooden moorings, I leaned out over the shimmering waters surface. My skirts flapped around my ankles like sails.

My father had once told me that only the brave fall, because they're the ones with the courage to spread their wings and soar.

"Careful there lass!" A stern voice called out to me.

I stepped back to see a small fishing boat already out on the water. There were several men standing heedless of the rock beneath them. An older man, with a rugged beard and an even more ratty-looking cap was waving me backwards away from the edge.

"If you fall, my boy's will have to pull you out." The 'boys' were actually men and the smiled affably at me. The fishing boat captain shook his head. "Not a good way to start the day. Bad luck falling of the end of the dock."

"Do you think it is cold?" I asked. It looked so pleasant, surely the heat of the sun had warmed the shallower waters.

A few of the men on the fishing boat chucked and the Captain shook his head. "With that much material and this wind? Lass, you can't have gone swimming much."

The water was calling to me. I leaned back out over the wooden planks and saw the fleeing shapes of fish. "Not in this attire." I said, lifting my skirts to show the very bottoms of my pants beneath. Behind me I heard gasps and the few women around shook their heads at my blatant lack of modesty.

The younger men in the fishing boat crowded over to the railings. I smiled at them and let the skirts fall. "I suppose you are right." I said taking a deep breath. My excitement for adventure had gotten the best of me again. I longed to plunge straight in without thought of any consequence.

I picked up my case and gave the fishermen a cheerful wave. "All the best out there, gentlemen. I shall not frighten the fish away." The captain grumbled something I could not hear and I watched them make sail.

"Miss Hanley." I spun at the address and saw a middle aged man standing in on the pier taking me in with judgemental eyes.

"Master Thornwood?" I assumed and noted his flat expression and slow blink. Well, I was always happy to make a good impression. I stepped up to him with confident steps, despite being more than half his age, and held out my ungloved hand. "A pleasure. Thank you so much for receiving my letter. I look forward to your company on this voyage."

Master Thornwood eyed my hand as though it was covered in grime. When he turned his face, the light caught the sharp angles of his face and beaked nose. "I am not here to make pleasantries Miss Hanley." He had a nasal sounding voice, but it seemed to suit his tall demeanour.

"Ah." I said, keeping my own voice even. My mother told me I would come across more respectable if I showed down my speech and tried to maintain and even rate, instead of the usual eager bounce of my tone. "Very well." I glanced behind him. "Is your writer joining us?"