Hey Lady….do you want another shot of Jack Daniels? I look up….Sure…I tap the rim of the glass.
Why so down?, the bartender asks.
Well, I can’t find a boat to rent…I guess the last guy I went out with was right…the sea is not so forgiving, nor are sea captains in this harbor.
The bartender nods and leans forward. How come?
I cannot find a single skipper to take me out to the gyre. The word is out about me.
Oh…you are that “crazy lady” who claims people are living out in the ocean under the trash? I’ve heard all about you…what a wild story….his voice trails off as he wipes the bar down with a rancid rag.
Yep…the gossip is out there so much so that when I ask a captain, they will either snicker, shake their head as they curse under their breath and some even wave me off before I can even speak. I got to say I am losing hope of going back out there.
Wait….I got to get that phone that’s ringing, as he walks through the beaded curtain to the backroom so I twirl the glass of the amber liquid, and I start to question my own sanity…but I have proof—photographs of a woman holding a seal, pulling at the plastic wrap around its neck. Caught by the light of my flash, frozen underneath the debris.
I stare into the bottom of the glass. Booze always gives me courage, and I know I am not that crazy lady. I am just so sure. I even emptied my savings from the mainland so I could go back and see for myself. I have to find a boat to take me back out to sea.
I gulp by drink and open my back pack to pay, when a wirey, unshaven tanned man with salt and pepper hair sits down right next to me…Hey, bartender…he signals…I’ll have what she is having!
Before I know it my glass is filled again and this stranger takes a sip of his. He turns his head ever so slightly over his shoulder and says…cheers to whatever ails ya! He swigs the bourbon down in one gesture. I salute him with my shot and follow suit.
Since my day is shot literally, I ask…so what brings you into a bar in the middle of the day? He says…I was going to ask you the same thing? No..no..no..I lean back and say I asked first…you go first!
The bartender interrupts…JT here owns a boat, the Pleione, it’s name after some Greek goddess since our captain here is Greek!
It means Sailing Queen in Greek I’ll have you know and knock it off. The next drink is on the house for you being a smart ass! JT points to our empty shot glasses.
OK…OK as he pours another round, I ask JT…Is your boat for rent?
Could be, he says, but not to you…you are that lady who wants to go to the garbage patch and I don’t take risks like that. He gulps his drink and turns towards me.I keep my boat shipshape, and I am selective to who I rent to…you are a disaster waiting to happen, he says to me.
I hear him, but I am transfixed. He is wearing the same shell the woman in the water gave me around his neck and it rests below his Adam’s apple. I am staring and for once I am speechless.
Hey, lady…did you hear me NO! He turns away and stares at the carved mermaid above the bar’s mirror.
Come on JT…she can’t find anyone to take her out and you haven’t had a customer in over a month! In fact your tab is due today? Go ahead help her out, says the bartender with both hands on the bar looking directly at the Captain and blocking his view. Their eyes confront one another, looking like one might swing a punch any moment.
I start talking fast…Yeah, I can fix all your problems! I am prepared to pay the going rate, plus a bonus if I find what I am looking for and you just have to get me close….keep an eye on me. I’ll swim into all that junk and dive under myself…there must be ways to keep me and your Sailing Queen safe!
JT turns and faces me….Like what? Well…we can set a buoy with a flag, use walkie talkies, I guess they make them for underwater…gps—so you can follow my dot when I am under water…there’s got to be stuff like that…I promise you…your boat will be at risk….I just need to get back under the gyre. I need your help!
Well…I am not cheap…it’s going to cost you and any damage to my boat you have to pay to fix her. I am really not so sure about this….his voice trails off.
How about I pick up your open bar tab right now and we walk over to your boat and I take a look. It’s a good faith gesture on my part to show you that I respect your position. Then afterwards we will seal the deal…come on! It’s just a boat ride in the Pacific Ocean…that’s all it is!
Okay lady! Pay up and let’s go. He gets up and starts walking to the door. I quickly pay the bartender…blow him a kiss as I walk backwards to the door and follow JT, who is walking at a fast clip down the dock.
I clutch my shell around my neck, hidden by my buttoned collar and pray that this man and his boat is the answer to what lies beneath.