I was listening to a couple of old fishermen tell tales the way they always seem to do in these tiny, coastal town pubs. The weren’t talking about the fish that got away, or how big the fish was that they caught. They were talking about the water, the wind, the waves, the siren calls of mermaids and monsters from times long before either of them.
I suspect most of the pub was listening, or at least half way listening to what these men were saying. It wasn’t that they were overly loud or that either of these men commanded attention with their presence. I guess part of the appeal was that there was no music in the pub, and the location of the men allowed their voices to carry over the softer conversations of others.
I would have phoned Beloved, this being something close to his heart, but he wasn’t anywhere close enough to make it in the next few hours, plus my phone had decided to not work. Frankly it’s time for a new one, but according to the people in is wee pub, it’s a curse from a long-lost sailor. A curse on any woman who would otherwise be inclined to chat. Apparently the sailor was less than thrilled with women talking and would make sure that things like phones didn’t work sporadically. He also had a ,Evans of ensuring interesting conversation was always happening by menfolk just so you know the women would be silenced. According to the legend when he was dying and had cursed the women of the town, a witch had ensured he’d spend the rest of eternity surrounded by women talking and laughing.😉
When I first made my way to this land of mists and mystery I wouldn’t step foot inside a place like I was in. I certainly wouldn’t have listened to the myths and lore, but somehow it grows into you. And there is a certain charm to these stories. A way for people to explain he unexplainable, excuse poor navigation and confusion. A means of finding meaning in the meaninglessness in the senseless loss of younger lives.
Beloved isn’t one for all these stories, but a good sea monster tale, especially one from the North Sea would be spell-binding for him for certain. The best I could do was listen closely, jot down the odd note here and there and wait until we were speaking to let him know. And no doubt, when his schedule cleared up, which I’m sure it would miraculously do almost overnight, he’d be making his way here. To capture the stories of the sea beasts and listen to the men tell how you can find one of these rare creatures today. I sound him, he’d offer money to be taken out in a boat in hopes of finding even just a mere glimpse of the creature. And ultimately would settle for more “data” and “verbal proof” that Nessie and her friends are still with us.
why Beloved isn’t nearly as interested in sirens and their beautiful songs or mermaids is beyond me, but offer up a good sea monster story and he is right there. Eagerly taking in the story and mentally comparing it to everything else he has already heard. Frankly I wonder if the siren song is the tale of these monsters.