It’s a cool and cloudy memorial day morning 2018 in Bandon. Mark and I stroll towards the pier, killing time until Tony’s Crab Shack opens. A crowd has gathered near the harbor entrance so we make our way to investigate. There, a priest and the Harbormaster are starting a ceremony. It is The Blessing Of The Fleet. At first I am not drawn to it, but Mark beckons me closer and we listen. A beautiful heartfelt prayer is offered up to God asking for protection and safe return of the fleet and its sailors and fishermen.
A second prayer is offered for all those lost at sea; that the families can find peace.
And lastly, a prayer for all sailors who have passed on.
At once I am transported onto the San Francisco Bay. We are aboard the Nightwatch, my father’s boat, which he circumnavigated the globe on many years before.
It is April 2017, cool and cloudy, and we are heading out under the Golden Gate Bridge to disperse my father’s ashes in one of his favorite coves.
He was a world-class racer, ocean cruiser and navigator. There was nowhere he would rather be than out sailing or working on his boat. As we motor out towards the cove we pass a bottle of his favorite rum. We empty my father into his beloved San Francisco Bay along with a great bottle of pinot from his vineyard to keep him company on his journey out to sea. I watch the ashes make their way out to the open ocean and I know my father is home.
As the Blessing of the Fleet concludes I am pulled back to the present moment by the sound of bagpipes warming up. I already know what they’re going to play. A rogue wave of emotion washes over me and I weep for the great sailor that my dad was and how hopelessly in awe I was of him.
As the pipers play the last verse of Amazing Grace the crowd disperses and I’m standing in a near empty parking lot sobbing. I don’t care what it looks like. I grieve openly for my father.
My husband wraps his arms around me and my sweet Tess looks up at me, tail wagging.
I dry my eyes and watch as the Coast Guard vessel casts their mooring lines upon the dock and make their way out to sea to disperse wreaths of flowers. I think to myself I would’ve loved to go out with them but there’s no time.
We Head to Tony’s and I have a whole cracked crab and celebrate how amazing life is in this moment.
After lunch Mark drives back to the hotel and I take the hour and a half beach walk back to our room. As I’m walking down the beach I see an unusual sight- hundreds of flowers-some of them still in the form of wreaths, have washed ashore.
“I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled” goes through my head as I hear my dad reciting The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock.
So, I roll up my pant legs and wade out into the ocean. The freezing water numbs my feet and I feel awake. My heart is open and I entertain the thought that these flowers have washed here at my feet at this particular moment in time to bless me.
I scoop the water up and draw it to my face. I smell the brine and I remember my father. I taste the salt as I kiss his cheek, always and forever, the Captain of my heart.
-By Nancy Mansfield
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