The Winter Sea

by Morrissey, Di

  ‘Maybe I will,’ he said.

  After they had been at sea for a few days, it occurred to Giuseppe that he should write a letter to his parents and tell them of his change in plan and explain that he was not on his way to America but was now going to Australia. He asked the purser for some paper to write his letter and went to find the small room that passed for a recreation area. Several older men had commandeered this space in the evenings where they noisily smoked and played briscola. In the mid morning, however, this room was generally empty as it was hot and stuffy and most of the passengers preferred to be up on deck.

  Stepping into the room, Giuseppe was surprised to find a young woman looking through a shelf of books. He stopped in the doorway, catching his breath. She had her back to him, but what startled Giuseppe and brought a rush of emotion to his heart was the sight of the long auburn curls that tumbled down her back. Although her hair colour was different, the beauty of her curls reminded him of Angelica.

  He coughed politely and she jumped in surprise, dropping a book.

  Giuseppe hurried forward and picked it up.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you . . .’ He handed her the book and was suddenly at a loss for words at the sight of her pale creamy skin sprinkled with freckles and her brilliant blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean on a summer morning. She smiled at him as she took her book from him and said something in English.

  ‘I don’t speak Inglese,’ he said despairingly. ‘Do you speak Italian?’ She shook her head but smiled at him still.

  Giuseppe looked at the title of her book, which was in English. He scanned the remaining books on the shelf, which were mostly in Italian, then selected one and held it up. ‘I’ll read this one.’

  She nodded and looked pleased, or perhaps impressed. Then she pointed to a map of the world tacked onto the wall. ‘Fremantle, Melbourne, Sydney?’ she asked speaking slowly, pointing to each of the ports the Ricconigi would dock at in Australia. Her voice had a delightful lilt to it.

  Giuseppe couldn’t keep his eyes off her face, thinking he had never seen anyone so beautiful. She was an angel. She was like the madonnas he’d seen in Alfonso’s art books. She was unlike any other girl he’d seen before. Her skin glowed as if she was lit from within. He immediately compared her with Angelica but while Angelica was of the earth, a wild free spirit of the hills, she had not excited in him the sensations that this girl did – the quickening of his breath, the shiver in his body, the racing of his pulse. This girl was the sky, the sea and soft breezes, and she stirred him in a way he’d never experienced.

  She tilted her head, giving him a quizzical look, the corners of her mouth lifting again in a smile.

  Giuseppe tried to refocus his attention on the map. He pointed to the girl and then back to Australia. ‘Where are you going to get off?’ he asked in Italian.

  She understood. ‘Sydney,’ she said slowly and clearly. ‘Sydney.’ She pointed to the map.

  Giuseppe quickly threw away the idea of getting off the Ricconigi in Fremantle.

  He smiled back at her and said, ‘Yes. I am going to Sydney also.’ He tapped his chest. ‘I am Giuseppe.’

  ‘Bridget,’ she said. And then added, ‘Bridie. Bridie.’

  ‘Bridie,’ he said, savouring the word.

  She gestured to the map on the wall and showed him an island in the North Sea. Then she tapped on her chest, and pointed at Ireland. Giuseppe understood and he was glad that Alfonso had let him study his atlas. He showed her the pinprick that was his island off the Italian coast. ‘That is my home.’

  She peered closely and made a gesture with her fingers to indicate that it was a little place.

  Giuseppe nodded and laughed. ‘Yes, small.’ He lifted his arms like a weightlifter. ‘But it’s a tough, strong place.’ He kissed the tips of his fingers. ‘And a good place.’

  Bridie said something more to Giuseppe, but he did not understand and their conversation faltered. Then Bridie pointed to the paper in Giuseppe’s hands and made a gesture like writing with her hands.

  He looked at the pen and paper he was holding. ‘I am writing to my mother. Mia mamma.’

  ‘Ahh, Mamma.’ She nodded and smiled again. Giuseppe attempted to keep the conversation going but they struggled to understand one another. After a few more minutes Bridie nodded at him in a gesture of goodbye and taking her book, she left the little library room.

  ‘Arrivederci,’ Giuseppe called.

  Giuseppe wrote his letter, guessing that his family would probably take it to the priest to be read. Giuseppe told them that he would write again when he arrived in Australia, and that they weren’t to worry. When he returned the pen to the purser, knowing that the officer spoke English, Giuseppe politely asked him if knew anything about the Irish girl, Bridget.

  ‘She’s travelling on her own. Some of the Maltese women who can speak English keep her company and she plays with their children occasionally.’

  Giuseppe was shocked. ‘She seems very young to be travelling on her own. Italian girls wouldn’t travel like that. It’s a shame we can’t talk.’ He suddenly had an idea. ‘Why don’t you start some classes so we can learn English? She could help.’

  At first the purser shook his head but when Giuseppe persisted, he finally said, ‘I have some English phrase books and an English dictionary. I’ll see what I can do.’

  Giuseppe could not interest anyone else in learning English. Nevertheless, armed with the books the purser had lent him, he hung around the recreation room until he spied Bridie. He greeted her and showed her his English books. Her eyes lit up. She made a little pantomime of reading and writing.

  Giuseppe nodded enthusiastically.

  With a few hand motions towards a clock, they arranged to meet each morning and again after dinner in the little rec room. But this idea proved difficult to put into practice as Bridie ate at the first sitting with the other women, and after the second sitting the men wanted to play cards and drink in the room.

  ‘Then I will eat early too!’ said Giuseppe.

  At first eyebrows were raised when Giuseppe joined the women to eat at the first sitting. For the first few days Giuseppe and Bridie were watched with open curiosity. But when the purser came in and chatted to them, translating between Italian and English, and handed them a grammar book he’d found, his actions placed the stamp of authority on their friendship, giving it legitimacy among the other passengers.

  Giuseppe found himself smoothing his hair, straightening his shirt, washing his face and hands and ignoring the ribald teasing of his cabin mates before he joined Bridie at mealtimes. She was always neatly dressed, her hair tied back with a ribbon at the nape of her neck.

  After a while no one took any further notice of them, even when Giuseppe suggested to Bridie that they eat their meals out on the deck.

  The dictionary became their best friend. Passing it back and forth to look up words, Bridie and Giuseppe began to ask each other questions and answer them. Sometimes the purser sat with them and helped. Some of the Maltese passengers asked to join in because the young pair were such joyful company. They laughed a lot at each other’s mistakes and Giuseppe was surprised at how at ease he felt. Bridie was always polite and very self-possessed, but Giuseppe soon realised that she came from a small village, too.

  The Ricconigi didn’t call into any ports as it sailed towards the Suez Canal; the days at sea seemed interminable. Some of the children became bored. Often the women would take to their bunks feeling ill, miserable and lonely. Matters were made worse when their vessel broke down in the canal and they spent days wallowing at anchor before they were under way again.

  The men were restless and sometimes arguments broke out.

  But Giuseppe was unconcerned. For him, each day started in the happy knowledge that here was another day to spend with Bridie. For now, despite the language difficulties, both were discovering how much they enjoyed each other’s company and were slowly unravelling their childhood stori
es with the help of the dog-eared dictionary.

  They took to walking around and around the deck for exercise and these times didn’t always require conversation. Once when a cool breeze was blowing and Bridie shivered in her light muslin top, Giuseppe took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, letting his arm rest lightly there for a moment.

  After they had finally passed through the Suez Canal, the weather deteriorated and became stormy. The bulky ship dived and rolled. Many passengers were sick and the crew member who acted as medic soon ran out of ideas and treatments.

  Bridie and Giuseppe, however, revelled in the brisk breeze and rolling sea. They moved two deckchairs as far out of the wind as they could to wait out the storm, preferring the blustery conditions on deck to the sour-smelling cabins below. It was wet and windy, but strangely warm.

  A passing sailor gave Giuseppe a grin, but motioned to the horizon. ‘Watch the storm, it could get worse. Keep your lifejacket handy.’

  ‘Can you swim?’ Giuseppe asked Bridie, making a swimming motion with his arms.

  She shook her head, looking alarmed.

  He reached over and took her hand, smiling reassuringly, and pointed to a lifeboat tucked along the deck. He pretended to row and stood up and held his hand over his eyes as if peering out to sea, then gave a salute and a thumbs up.

  Bridie laughed. At that moment a rain squall rushed in, soaking the deck. They both leapt back as a strong gust of wind hit them, almost knocking them off their feet. Giuseppe grabbed Bridie’s arm as she slipped. But she appeared exhilarated as the wind whipped around them. In seconds her ribbon had loosened and she grabbed it to stop it from flying away, untying her hair in the process. Giuseppe felt his chest tighten at the sight of her damp ringlets blowing around her laughing face. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. Then he pulled away, shocked by his impulsive move, hoping that she wouldn’t be angry.

  Bridie touched her cheek where he’d kissed her, smiled shyly and shook her head.

  ‘I’m sorry, Giuseppe, but you don’t understand. I’m happy to be your friend but that’s all I can be. You see, I am going to Australia to marry a man I’ve known since childhood.’ As Giuseppe tried to follow what she was saying she pulled out a chain from around her neck. On it hung a locket, which she opened. Inside was a picture of a young man. She pointed to him and then to her finger, miming putting on a ring.

  ‘Ah. I understand,’ he said quietly, barely glancing at the man’s face, but looking deep into Bridie’s eyes.

  Then he added in halting English, ‘You travel to him alone. Very brave.’

  ‘I thought it would be an adventure! Ronan has a job in Sydney. He wrote and asked me to marry him, so I got a job as a nursemaid to an English family who were travelling to Italy. When they got to Naples I left them and bought a ticket on the Ricconigi. But I was so lonely by myself until I found a wonderful friend.’ She smiled at him warmly.

  Giuseppe, while not understanding all that she said, realised that she was spoken for, but said, ‘We can still be friends, si?’ He smiled gently, touched her hand and took a slight step back.

  Bridie looked pleased, and nodded her head. Simultaneously they stepped out onto the windswept deck and continued their walk.

  Giuseppe was determined to maintain their friendship. He tried to remain at ease with her and took on a more brotherly, protective attitude. However, in the dark, alone in his bunk as he listened to the snoring and coughs and rumblings of the men around him, he ached and longed for Bridie. As well as the physical yearning he was experiencing, he was saddened knowing that she would marry someone else.

  When he mentioned Bridie’s impending marriage to Antonio, his friend scoffed.

  ‘Why would you want to marry her anyway, when there are lots of good Italian girls in Australia, just waiting for you? You are not experienced enough in the ways of the world, especially women, to make the right judgment yet.’ To change the subject, Antonio asked, ‘Have you decided what you will do when you get to Australia?’

  ‘I will go to Sydney, but after that maybe I’ll go cane cutting with you in Queensland.’

  ‘Good idea. It’s hard work, but you’ll make money to be able to send home to your parents.’

  Even with the knowledge that she belonged to another man, Giuseppe was blinded by Bridie. If he saw her in the distance he caught his breath, felt his heart race and a smile came to his face unbidden. He took joy in the time they had together on the ship, a time between decisions, a time just for them, with no one to intrude. Standing beside her at the ship’s railing as they watched the ocean swell, the occasional bird circling overhead and the foaming white wake behind them marking their voyage from their homelands, he wished this journey would never end.

  When the Ricconigi finally arrived in Bombay, everyone was relieved to be going ashore at long last. Giuseppe disliked the large black ravens that swooped around the ship and the dock, thinking they looked evil. Antonio wanted to leave the ship as soon as it docked, to explore the city, so Giuseppe decided to ask Bridie if she would like to come with them.

  India shocked the three of them, especially its beggars.

  ‘There is poverty at home in Italy,’ said Antonio. ‘But it is nothing like this.’

  ‘When I look at some of those beggars, it makes me feel as though I have everything,’ agreed Giuseppe.

  None of them had any rupees to give to the people who swarmed around them, putting out their hands and crying, ‘Baksheesh, baba,’ but the three of them realised that however much they gave, they would never be able to satisfy all of those who asked.

  ‘Come on,’ said Antonio. ‘Let’s see if we can find something to eat that tastes like food.’

  ‘I’ll pay, if we can find somewhere that will take my English money,’ said Bridie. ‘You two can pay me back later if you like.’

  They found a restaurant that was very cheap and tentatively decided to share a curry. They all found it hot but the two men had no trouble in eating it and they laughed at Bridie’s brave attempt to do the same. The restaurant owner, seeing her difficulties, brought over another dish of rice and vegetables, which she enjoyed.

  ‘That was delicious,’ she said when she had finished. ‘I had forgotten what food really tastes like after that rubbish we get on board.’

  They spent the rest of the day wandering around the crowded city, taking in its sights, sounds and smells. Giuseppe almost had to pinch himself to believe that he was in such an exotic country. He knew that it would be very hard to explain to his family just what India had been like when next he wrote home.

  All three of them regretted having to return to the Ricconigi late that afternoon, but they were due to sail for Colombo early the next morning.

  ‘The one time when you want the ship not to work, it does. I was hoping that we could stay here a bit longer,’ said Antonio. ‘I suppose we have to make up for the time we lost at Suez.’

  But they found Colombo to be a pleasant city, not as overwhelming as Bombay had been, although a lot hotter. After wandering along the sea front they decided to venture into the local markets. They were all amazed by the wares for sale: silks, spices, golden jewellery and all manner of carved objects. Giuseppe wanted to buy something to give to Bridie as a souvenir. One of the stalls sold carved elephants, which he thought would be perfect, but he had no rupees and he could hardly ask Bridie for a loan. As Antonio and Bridie wandered off ahead, Giuseppe stood looking at the variety of elephants the stall keeper had on offer. They ranged from one that was almost life sized to other smaller ones made from ivory or wood. Then he saw the purser coming towards him. He quickly spoke to him, and the purser nodded before handing over some coins.

  ‘Pay me back in lira when you return to the boat,’ he said.

  When Giuseppe asked, in a mixture of English, Italian and hand gestures, he learned that the money the purser had lent him would pay only for a very small elephant. He picked up a wooden one.

  ‘Sandalwoo
d, sandalwood,’ the vendor assured him.

  Giuseppe paid the asking price and raced off to catch up with Bridie and Antonio.

  ‘I buy for you,’ he said, giving the little carved elephant to Bridie.

  ‘Thank you very much, Giuseppe. I shall treasure this and when I look at it, I will always remember this day.’

  Giuseppe was not entirely sure what Bridie had said, but he could see that she was pleased with the present.

  Back on board, as the ship sailed south towards Australia, Giuseppe worked even harder at his English lessons. Sometimes Bridie read to him from the book she was reading, and he was able to grasp the gist of it, and he took pleasure in the sound of her voice.

  They were both excited when the purser announced that there would be a Crossing of the Equator ceremony and they were looking forward to the special party. Until now the passengers had been ignored by the crew, regarded as a hindrance rather than paying passengers, so everyone was pleased about this big social event in which they would all participate.

  King Neptune, scarcely recognisable as the purser in a green beard and once-gold robes, greeted them all. A shallow pool was rigged up on the deck and the men were tossed into it after being painted with some jelly-like substance. The children squealed with laughter at the sight of the adults being heave-hoed by the sea king. The women, gathered like a black-robed court, watched in amusement. At one end sat the captain in his white uniform looking faintly amused. He had rarely been seen on the voyage and the passengers regarded him in some awe.

  When it was Giuseppe’s turn to be thrown into the water, everyone cheered. He was well liked. The women admired his strong brown torso, his muscular arms and legs, and his open face that seemed to reflect his big, generous heart. The men also found him entertaining, warm and good company.

  Afterwards, Giuseppe came over to Bridie and thrust a piece of paper towards her so she could see it. ‘Look! From King Neptune!’ He laughed.

  She couldn’t help smiling at his infectious delight. The certificate was ornate, edged in gold scrolls and featured a watercolour painting of King Neptune with his seaweed beard, a crown and a trident that was reminiscent of Giuseppe’s traffena, but the paper was yellowed with age, as though it had been stored for some time. It announced he had successfully ‘crossed the line’ and had been welcomed by King Neptune to his court in the seas beyond the equator.