TEACHING ME A LESSON

(From MAGIC HARBOR by Don Berry)

 

 

Julia of LEGACY reminds me most of the Wild Woman in Northwest Indian mythology; an explosive and mysterious figure, unpredictable and funny and dangerous in ways you can't even imagine. When Julia is in a wild swing, it is like opening a window into the incandescent heart of feminine energy; the dark goddess Kali. She roars, she screams, she guffaws, she overpowers everything around with raw, uncontrolled energy.

This description is rather far ahead of the story, because my first encounter with her gave very little hint of her Wild Woman persona.

I first met Julia shortly after I came into Eagle Harbor. She was a slim, graceful woman with long, straight blond hair falling down her back -- the very image of a California girl. She was in her early forties, but she looked and moved like a twent y year old. She was not attempting to look young -- her spirit was simply a good deal younger than her chronology. She had a girlish quality that made it seem incredible when I later learned there was a fifteen year old son, living someplace down south with his father.

Julia had no previous experience with the water, or water living. She came into the harbor from nowhere, bought a slim, strongly built little 26' sloop called LEGACY, and declared her intention to live at anchor from that point forward.

This is a gesture of such foolhardy boldness it takes your breath away. The chances of surviving the first winter alone are vanishingly small, and with none of the necesssary skills or experience, it seemed inevitable she would be winterkill.

I met her at the dock one day, and our first encounter endeared her to me forever. She came aboard my boat for a while, and we had interesting conversation, on subjects I don't remember. She had turns of speech and mannerisms I couldn't interpret or predict. She often blurted, and was clearly ill at ease. She was not comfortable with small talk, and she often peered at me very closely. Not hostile, but appraising.

When she got up to leave, she said, "Can I come talk to you again?"

"Sure," I said.

"How often?" she said.

"Hell, I don't know," I said. "Whenever you want, I guess."

"Twice a week?" she said. "Is that too much? I don't want to be a nuisance or anything. And I can't tell."

I was in a particularly severe hermit phase at that time, and I said "There doesn't have to be a number. Just don't push it."

"O.K," she said. And left the boat with a smile.

I didn't see her again for a year.

During that year she worked on bringing LEGACY up to seaworthy, lived on it much of the time, disappeared for long periods, came back, disappeared again. She didn't live at anchor all the time, but she was definitely not winterkill. It was clear eve n from a distance that if she lacked specific skills, she had a dogged endurance without limit. For all her girlish appearance, she was tough as she needed to be. And she was as committed to the liberty of the anchor as the most seasoned water rat in th e harbor.

She was gone for one period of several months, and I later learned she'd gone to Reno. While she was there she:

(1) worked in the kitchens of three casinos;

(2) got arrested for drunk and disorderly and went to jail;

(3) did public service living in Reno's homeless shelters;

(4) rang bells for the Salvation Army at Christmas;

(5) was diagnosed by the State of California as paranoid-schizophrenic and awarded a monthly "crazy check" as unable to hold a job;

(6) developed a scheme for an underground railroad to funnel the homeless of Reno to the Northwest, with the idea of installing them all on boats.

When I encountered her the next winter in Eagle Harbor, she looked at me appraisingly, and a little smile just sketched itself around the corners of her eyes.

"Is this too soon?" she said.

It was only the first of many lessons the Wild Woman taught me.

 

end

 

Teaching me a lesson
©1995 Don Berry