“Ponyo!!”

The sun beamed through the open window above the Captin’s cabin of the sailboat. I felt the warmth on my back, and slowly came to awareness. Eyes stubbornly remaining shut, I listened to the sounds in Eel Pond: bells, swallows, the horn of the ferry, and tourists beginning to bustle. It was getting hotter, and I had to pee. I opened my eyes slowly, and saw the blue clear sky outside the window. My pillow was moist with condensation that gathered during the night.

“How did you sleep?” I asked. ”Good. You didn’t sleep well, did you?”. ”I slept like a baby.” I said through a yawn. He had a dream that I had complained that fifty percent of my sleep was ruined by something or another. The triangular sleeping quarters in our sailboat were quite snug. It was hard to get comfortable, but as soon as I found the sweet spot for my feet, it was sweet dreams. Ponyo, Sasuke… the Miyazaki movie from the night before replayed in my dreams and echoed in my morning thoughts. I slept soundly, with the boat gently rocking in the harbor. Refreshed and ready to start the day, I squeezed out of the sleeping area. It was my last day on Cape Cod. After two and a half years of doing what I needed to do–pay loans, get job experience, and obtain credentials for my future career– I was ready to go. After earning my freedom, and making plans for a different kind of life(style), I should have felt entirely excited to go. But this day was not full of excitement and anticipation for what was next, because, now, I am leaving someone amazing behind. Not the beaches, not the bars, not even the children with whom I worked that I loved so much. I had been prepared for my departure from them.  It was the thought of leaving him that made me want to stop the clocks and just not go.  Not yet.

How could I leave this life that I was starting to love? For the past two and a half years, I had been just living somewhere between content and the ever-present knowledge that Cape Cod wasn’t the place for me, and constantly working to put my ducks in a row…for the next step…what I had always dreamed of: traveling alone.  Here I was on the cusp of that journey, and there was no chance of slowing down time.  I’d just have to make the most of this last day here.  This was it. But Woods Hole had been kind to me, and since I moved here, it had forced me to accept that Cape Cod was actually quite a lovely place.  If only I had found this place earlier. I had made some friends in the short time I had lived there–Inci, Carolina, Alex, Nils, Lois, Julie, Chelsea, Danielle–and quite enjoyed my days with them. But now I was preparing to say goodbye, and start my journey alone. Unexpectedly nostalgic for the recently invigorating life I’d started living here.

Yellowstone…Burma…India…. I can’t wait.

We drove to Nobska beach. He told me he never just layed on the beach all day; I suspected that to be the case. Today we would try new things. Laying out the towels, one lime green, and one “magic carpet” patterned, it was 9 am. We were the second party there, and the sounds that filled our ears were peacful; the sounds you might expect from a vacant beach: oscillating waves, hungry gulls, boat horns in the distance. I laid on my magic carpet towel and closed my eyes, becoming more aware of the sand underneath me and the salty air around me. It was such a gorgeous morning. I slipped into dreams of vivid colors and movements: a red bell pepper, whose top was pulled off, disolving the red into a stream of paint. I opened my eyes. I looked over at him. Beautiful.  I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Look!” I said. I pointed to a bird directly in front of us, flying over the water just a couple of meters from the line that the waves drew on the shore. It caught my attention for no reason at all. We looked at the bird together, sitting up to get a better look. Suddenly, it dove straight down towards the water. At the last second, it drew up again, changing its mind, or perhaps practicing it’s attack while getting a better look at it’s prey.

“Do this with your hand,” he said, making a circle with his thumb and fingers and drawing it up to one open eye. “It brings the light just on him and you can see his patterns better.”

I mimicked my knowledgeable photographer and was able to see the bird much more clearly. Was it a falcon? It could be a hawk. Do falcons eat fish? It was so lovely! Suddenly, it dove. Falling out of the sky as if gravity suddenly changed it’s laws, it plummeted into the water. Emerging with a large silver fish, it flew off towards the lighthouse, as the fish wiggled trying to get free.

“Amazing!” he shouted, waving his hands. “Did anyone else see that?!”

A girl on a surf board, standing up and paddling came by. Maybe she saw. But others had come to the beach since we first staked our spot, and it seemed nobody was looking. In disbelief and happiness, we laid back down on the sand with the wonderful image seared into our minds, contented smiles on our faces.

A family came, and parked their things just feet away from us. The beach had plenty of empty sand, but, curiously,  they chose to lay right next to us. I guess this is something people do, I’ve never known why. There were six of them; three adults and two children.

“Can I go for a walk?”

“Of course!” I said. I was in my own world, and walking on the beach was not something I could do just then. “I’ll stay here.”

He left, and began walking towards where the big bird had flown with his prize. Towards the lighthouse. I looked over at our neighbors. They were so close to us, it was impossible not to hear every word they spoke. A chubby blonde girl, probably around 12 years old, left the party of six and began walking towards the water. She had a wildly frustrated look on her face, as if the beach was clearly the last place she had wanted to go that day. My gaze followed her as she put her feet in the water. She sighed loudly, and stomped out of the water like an angry rhino. I wondered what she was so upset about. She stormed over to her mother and demanded to know where her water shoes were. There were too many rocks and it hurt her feet. Her mother said she didn’t know, and that she wasn’t the one who brought them to the beach so it wasn’t her job to find them. I learned that the girl’s name was Julia.

“Mom! Come on! My feet hurt!” she complained. Her face was getting angier and angrier.

“I don’t know hon, just try to walk on the rocks, it will be ok,” her mom said. Julia began her stomping away again. “Julia.  Walk around the towels, don’t walk over them,” her mom said.

“Ugh!!! Step around the towels…step around the towels…AROUND the towels,” Julia angrily mumbled to herself as she began her second offensive on the ocean.

The rocks were no more pleasant to her this time. Spending a couple of minutes dramatically stepping on the rocks and moaning with discomfort, she finally retreated back to her family. This time she said nothing, but like a thief rummaging through a house for cash, she tore apart her beach bag looking for her water shoes. Success. She found them, and stompped back down to the water. I tried to imagine what she was thinking. Why was she so angry? Was she going to remember this day as that terrible time her family took her to that rocky beach on Cape Cod? She put on her water shoes and walked into the water. As she waded in the waves, I decided to stop my observation. Perhaps it was obvious that I was amazed by her performance. I closed my eyes and covered my face with my sun hat.
I missed Mer. While I was watching Julia, I had been glancing over to the left to see him on his walk. Green shirt and cream pants, flowing black hair. He was so lovely. I would tell him what I witnessed, and ask him if he too found it curious and upsetting, as I did.  I imagined him laying next to me, and the comfort it brought to me. He would come back soon, and I could lay with him. I drifted into thought again. Silently, he had returned. I was surprised when I opened my eyes to see him next to me. I told him my story about Julia…

…”she was just so angry! I wonder why. I’ve learned her name is Julia.”

“Oh,” he said, following my subtle point. “She looks very German. An angry German like that must be named Helga.”

So she was named Helga.

“What is this on my back?”  ”Baby, it’s not something you should scratch. I see you did already,” he said with apparent disappointment and concern. “Don’t touch it.”

“Those people  look Turkish, don’t they?” I said.

“I was just thinking that,” he replied.

Beyond our theatrical neighbors, was a group of two men, two women, and two children.  They had a tent.

“A tent! Oh man, I wish we had a tent.”

Mer took my black shirt and held it over our heads, fashioning a tent that sheltered only our faces from the sun.

“This is the  best tent ever.  We should make a sales pitch to REI–we could convince them to make it quite expensive, because the tent-poles are my arms.  They’d have to hire me to follow the campers where they went…”

So it went.

One of the Turkish men jumped into the water and made a loud hoot.  His mating call? We joked.  He splashed around.  The other man was near the tent and his companions, juggling rocks.

We watched some Terns dive into the water.  I was amazed at how quickly they went into the water and then came out.   It was amazing how this was happening right in front of us, while we just sat and observed from the shore.  I was enchanted by their behavior.  As we watched the terns, three huge white swans flew directly overhead.  What was this?  An animal planet special?  Airplanes with advertisements flew overhead.

A peaceful animal planet audition, tainted by the sounds of the plane engines in the sky.

“At least when you buy a TV, you expect to be bombarded by advertisements, so it’s somewhat of a choice.  But here?  How pleasant.”

I could feel the sunburn penetrating my skin.  But I wasn’t ready to leave.

“Can you put sunscreen on my face?” he asked.  I tried.  But I couldn’t really…so I tried on myself.  Success.   I sat up, applying sunscreen to my face only.  Stupid.  My face was covered in our tent, and of course my body was entirely exposed.  No other sunscreen was applied.

“How does the internet work?  I mean, computers.  How does any of it work?  How does something go from one computer to another computer over wifi?  How does a computer even work?”

He explained:  ”It’s all ones and zeros, you know?”

I nodded.  But I didn’t know.  ”Ones and zeros?”

One is defined by the  presence of something and a zero is defined by the absence of something…

 He also explained that even after I understood, I would probably have difficulty explaining it to others as I understood it.  But I did understand.  Yet here I am, with no words to explain how it works.  Computer-world is amazing.

“All the information that ever was and ever will be is always there–it’s just a matter of putting it into a code that a computer can interpret.”  Like a foreign language.  What an amazing language to learn.

We talked about the universe.  The scale of human-kind.  Microbes.  How likely is it that people are just like microbes, unable to see the larger universe around them.  We are able to see microbes, and able to peer into the solar system and the presence of other universes, but we could be just given that little window of sight in a much much larger continuum.  Couldn’t it be possible?  Even likely?  Microbes outnumber us by the trillions.  They have specific behaviors and adaptations, just like we do.  The limits of my imagination are pushed.  Time to bask in the sun.

“I’m bad at sunbathing.  I never remember to turn over, like you’re supposed to.”  I said, as I turned over.  ”I want to go in the water.  Come?”

“Nothankyou.”

Some more talking.  I want to go swimming.  I run into the ocean.  It’s beautiful.  Clear, green, and salty.  It’s so nice.  I beg him to come in.  He’s cold and doesn’t want to get wet.  He reluctantly goes in, like a dog being led to a bath.  He liked it for a moment, though.  But then the waves.  He looked at the puny waves with distrust and slight fear.

“I’m not cold because I’ve been preparing for the apocalypse.  I have enough body fat to keep me warm,” I taunted.  It was mostly true, though.  My apocalypse would be quite cold.

He got out of he water and wrapped himself in the magic carpet.  I accidentally swallowed a cup of seawater.  Time to get out.

Ponyo