Troubled Waters – A Ballad

By Elyse Harrison

Inspired by the 1952 United States Coast Guard rescue of the SS Pendleton

Verse 1 

You worked hidden within the belly of a cargo ship, the year of 1952. Treacherous waves raised by ferocious storms claimed nearly all your crew. With other survivors, you were brought to shore, your bodies frozen and lips pale grey. I was told you were far from home and, at least for a while, needed a place to stay. The town’s women offered food and blankets from within the safety of Church walls. As I passed you a bowl of soup, our eyes met, and I could tell you had seen it all. Death had beckoned you to accompany Him to the bottom of the ocean. Fear, pain, loss, and heartache; you had certainly felt all such emotions. As I turned away, your older companion leant forward and whispered in your ear. ‘We’ve all been given a second chance at life,’ he said. ‘So, I want you to listen here.’ ‘Go forth in this world reborn,’ he continued. ‘And find something to truly live for.’ ‘Be it art, music, nature or love – it must be something that makes your heart soar.’ Then, unbeknownst to me, you glanced my way, a thoughtful expression on your face. ‘Love it is,’ your shipmate smiled. ‘The feeling all humans wish to embrace.’ 

Verse 2 

Out on the streets, the icy wind blew, and crisp, white snow buried the road.  You were ambling north against the gale; cast over your shoulder a heavy load. In my Chevy, I pulled up beside you and wound the frosted window down. ‘Sir, do you have a place to go?’ I called out, wanting to take you from your frown. You looked over, your cheeks rosy-red, and a tattered scarf wrapped around your face. ‘…Because if you don’t,’ I added hesitantly. ‘You could always stay at my place.’ And so, you climbed on in, and we headed downtown, to my rundown and derelict home. See, I was an independent woman, in a time against me, trying to make it on my own. I got you settled in the spare room, where you sat down exhausted on the bed.

You cupped your face with your hands, the night’s events replaying in your head. Passing over a cup of tea, I whispered gently, ‘Feel free to stay a good while.’ ‘I’d like that a lot,’ you said, after a moment’s thought, and on your face emerged a smile.  

So, in return for your stay, you repaired the house, as I worked at the museum behind closed  doors. 

And over the months that you stayed, our relationship developed into something more.  

Verse 3 

Taking my hand, one still and starry night, you led me along the pier. 

You told me to keep my eyes closed, to trust you, and that I had nothing to fear. When you released my hand, I opened my eyes and was immediately taken aback. For you were seated in a rowboat, against a backdrop of glittering stars on a canvas of black. Leaning forward, you beckoned me to join you, eagerly awaiting to fulfill the night’s purpose. However, the dock creaked underfoot, and I wavered, feeling considerably nervous. ‘What is it you’re afraid of?’ you asked me, glancing up with patient eyes. 

‘The vastness of it all,’ I stammered, gesturing to the surrounding ocean. ‘But I’m not certain  why.’ 

‘It’s to do with its depth and darkness, I think. And how you can never be sure of what’s  underneath.’ 

‘The unknown is scary,’ he returned. ‘But I have a notion that may provide some relief.’ ‘The world is beautiful in its unpredictability,’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘I can promise you that.’ 

‘Just look around. Who’d have thought that once troubled waters could become so calm and so  flat?’ 

‘Even after everything you’ve been through?’ I questioned. ‘You still hold this belief to be  true?’  

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ he chuckled, heartedly. ‘When after all, it was this world that brought me  to you.’ 

Verse 4 

That night, after you had said those words, I wanted to give you my heart,

But with calmer waters on the horizon, your work would soon see us a part.

At the hardware store, a few days before you were due to return to sea,

We overheard some men talking – their topic of conversation, it turned out, was me.

‘A woman requires a man who will protect her and stay by her side.'

'Not some bluejacket who will leave to set sail with the changing tide.’ 

At home, you told me I deserved better and agreed that those men were right. ‘I don’t want better, I want you!’ I exclaimed, and I ran out into the night. ‘Please come inside, it’s cold out,’ you called, as rain fell silently to the ground. I searched your face, trying to meet your eyes, but your gaze wandered all around. ‘I understand you’re trying to protect me, but please, I beg you to change your mind.’ 

‘I cannot do that,’ you explained. ‘For each time I go, it will hurt too much, to leave this all  behind.’ 

And so that night, I watched in silence, as you packed your things and readied to go. Then you headed out onto the streets where, just like the night we first met, it began to snow. 

Verse 5 

Back in the bowels of the ship, you tossed and turned each night. 

This time, however, it wasn’t the motion of the waves, but a deep and internal fright. For there were three small words that you longed to go back and say. 

‘You’re a fool,’ your shipmate scolded. ‘You had what we all desire, but you let it slip away.’ ‘I made a terrible mistake, I know, but I will make things right,’ you vowed. And when the ship made its way into the harbour, you searched for my face in the crowd. When your feet touched the dock, you raced over, wanting to confess how you felt. ‘The truth is, I love you!’ you declared, and down on one knee you knelt. ‘What about everything that happened?’ I asked. ‘And all of the things you said?’ ‘Because more troubled waters will almost certainly lie ahead.’ 

‘The fiercest of storms is what brought us together, so I am sure we can survive anything.’ ‘Now, I have a question I must ask,’ you grinned, and from your pocket you pulled out a ring. ‘As we know, the world is unpredictable, and we cannot be certain of what’s in store,’ 

‘But will you marry me? Because what I do know, is that I want you waiting for me on this  shore.’ 

THE END

About the author:
Elyse Harrison

Elyse Harrison is an environmental professional and writer based in Geelong. Her writing explores the connections between people, animals, history and the natural world, often weaving together themes of hope, grief, belonging, love, and environmental stewardship. Drawing inspiration from nature, philosophy, and the enduring relationships between humans and animals, she writes poetry and fiction that seeks to find meaning in the fleeting moments that shape our lives.

https://www.facebook.com/ElyseHarrisonWriter/