Marina

Part 1

Marco was retired. He no longer needed his bristling beard to warm his chin on the squalling, slippery deck of his fishing boat. But he kept it long and seafoam-white because it was his best prop in playing the character of grandfather. It could be tugged on like a seahorse’s reins. It could be plaited by small, sticky hands. And it was an excellent hiding place for treasures, secrets and stories.

He closed the curtains on the dark seafront outside. The small room glowed turquoise like a sea-cave in the lamplight. “Which story tonight, then, little adventurer? Shall we find out how those crafty mermaids beat those nasty cyborg pirates? Aaaargh!” Swinging his leg, as if it was made of wood or maybe steel, he hobbled with comic menace towards the bed. With a single captain-hooked finger, he eased back the covers.

But instead of twinkling brown eyes and giggling grin, he was met with a tear-streaked face which quickly turned away.

“No stories tonight, Grandpa.”

Marco blinked for a second while he came out of pirate mode, then sank onto the bed’s edge. Around him, humpbacks, dolphins, whale sharks, great whites and marlins circled the blue walls in a protective shoal. Some were carefully cut from glossy pages of nature magazines. Others were meticulously drawn. With a swoop of the felt pen, hydrodynamic body shapes ended in pointed fin tips. Marco himself might have drawn a fish’s eye with a single black stab of ink. But the eyes his granddaughter drew had pupils that seemed to gleam from the page, all now gazing inquisitively down at the bed. He gazed tenderly at the small head burying itself into the pillow, like a black pearl in an oyster shell.

“Oh, Marina, sweet one, what’s made you sad tonight?”

The ocean winds buffeted the bedroom window.

“I tried, but they still don’t come back.”

Marco’s heart sank. He knew exactly who she was talking about.

It took a lot to rattle Marina. Despite not yet being ten years old, she was determined, courageous and brought him sunshine, even on the stormiest days. These were not tears that could be dried with fantasies of adventure and heroism. Despite what her parents might have said, this didn’t feel like the occasion to soothe her with white lies. She was strong enough for the truth.

“Marina, let’s see your face now, my dear. Let’s talk about this.”

A snuffle and a rustle. Blowing her nose gratefully on the tissue Marco passed her, she propped herself up and looked at him hesitantly.

“What do I do, Grandpa?”

“You’ve done more than anyone to bring back the whales to our waters, my darling. I never thought that my stories of the old days, of watching whales breach from my fishing boat, would inspire you to become our local hero. You have worked tirelessly ever since you learned about those dirty great container ships and how they harmed the sea creatures so. You’ve left no stone unturned on your mission. I’m so proud of you.”

He gently brushed a strand of hair from where it stuck to her tear-dampened cheek.

Marco had been both excited and nervous to see her stand tall, in front of her entire school, for her presentation last year. Despite the dark facts about propellers that slice, pollution that seeps, booming engines that deafen whale song into silence, Marina spread hope. The whole audience began imagining futures where the sea was a part of their identity. Within a few short minutes, they had let the ocean, and the whales, right into their hearts.

“I thought if the whole village stopped buying stuff they didn’t need… if we saved the places the whales used to live… but it didn’t work.”

She hung her head.

“Oh, Marina. I’m an old man now. I’ve seen things come and go like the tides. But the way things have changed this year, I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it myself!”

He picked up the handsaw from Marina’s desk with a label that read ‘PROPERTY OF THE LIBRARY OF THINGS’.

“I never imagined a library where folks could borrow tools, machines, instruments, costumes, anything! Whenever they wanted! But this year, you and your school friends made it happen. It’s ridiculous when you think about it – houses full to bursting with the same tools, toys and tat that your neighbour has. But you showed us that we can have what we want by sharing, without giving more money to big businesses that send those giant ships churning up the sea.”

He turned the saw over with his knobbled fingers.

“That giant whale float that you built with the other children for the parade was magnificent. You were so smart to saw those bamboo stems growing in the garden and tie them together to make the body shape. Covered with that recycled plastic, it looked just like a real whale, swimming through the old streets, followed by music and dancing mermaids! The ‘Jamboree for the Sea’ festival you helped plan was the most fun I’ve had in years. I’ve always loved the sea, but I was over the moon that hundreds of people came out to celebrate, clean our beach and pledge to boycott those shipping-container goods.”

Marco sensed the glimmers of a familiar smile on Marina’s face at the memory of the festival. Seeing crowds cheering the whale as it went by had boosted her spirits. It’s no wonder she was deflated now. All that build-up and still to have never seen a whale in real life. Her face went dark again as her eye caught the creatures swimming on her wall.

“You’re right, Grandad. We did all of that. And we were on the news. But what if it’s not enough that the village made pledges? What if the whales never come back to their feeding grounds?”

He took her small hand and squeezed reassuringly.

“I know it’s hard. But to an old sea-dog like me, you’re still so young. These things take time. Change takes time. But in no time at all, you’ve already changed our entire village. I have a feeling you’re only just getting started.

“Those whales, they might come over the horizon tomorrow. But I have to tell you, you might be as old as I am by the time they swim back. Even if they never return, I’m so proud of what you’ve done for our ocean, for our village, for us all. We can only do our best with the time we’ve got. And you, my girl, are doing your absolute best.”

He tried to read her expression in the lamplight. She squeezed Marco’s hand tighter.

“Thank you, Grandpa.”

“I love you, Marina. Are you ready to get some sleep?”

A pause.

“I think so.”

“Good. Sleep tight, my little mermaid. Dream that you’re swimming with the whales tonight.”

“Good night, Captain Hook!”

Marco smiled a crooked smile. As the lights went out, Marina dived down under the covers and imagined.

Way out to sea, a shining back broke the surface. Then another. Exhaling in baritone, two shimmers of breath rose to be caught by the salty wind. Black eyes shone in the watery moonlight. The mother slowly unfurled her broad swooping tail into the air, using its weight as ballast to push her downwards. Her calf mirrored her, hugging close to her enormous side. And as suddenly as they had appeared, they both slipped away beneath the waves.

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Part 2

Rising gently to break the surface of the dream, Lauren was greeted by a raucous chorus of seagulls. She stretched her toes luxuriously against the duvet. Rolling over to press her face into the pillow, she had the tiny bed to herself. But, then, where was Marina?

Lauren sat up and cranked her eyelids ajar. The blue walls swam with sea creatures, making her wonder if she was still dreaming. From her perch on the windowsill, Marina smiled down.

“Merry Christmas, cosmic adventurer! You were waaay off in the dream world there. See anything good?”

“Mmmmmm, yeah actually. You would have loved it; I was swimming with whales.”

“No way! I’m jealous. I woke up from a nightmare that Mum’s nut roast made my teeth fall out!”

“Hope that’s not a premonition.”

Marina laughed. Lauren rubbed her eyes and asked, “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long really; we’ve had a good lie-in after the train journey last night. I heard something going on downstairs, so the others are definitely up already.”

Lauren shuffled towards the windowsill, bringing her bed nest with her. Bundling Marina up in warm blankets and arms, putting her head on her shoulder, they both looked out on Marina’s seafront home town. Or what was left of it.

The ocean loomed. The ripples reached towards the house, stopping just short, then retreated backwards between the cracks in the street cobbles. The festive lights in the windows cast trembling reflections on the calm, grey surface. 

Lauren gently kissed Marina’s cool cheek and saw her frown soften.

“Well, Christmas Day finally! This is going to be a new experience for me.”

Marina rolled her eyes and replied, “Don’t get too excited, hun. Christmas here is basically the same as winter solstice, but with worse music. My family still insists on belting out low-resolution audio files from the 1900s, can you believe that?”

Lauren gave Marina a squeeze. “I’ll brace myself! Shall we go say hello to your folks then?” 

“Yeah, I can’t wait to see them all.”

They eased from their embrace, tugged on fleeces and chunky socks. Stepping over the camp-bed and luggage cluttering the floorspace, they trundled down the wooden stairs into the kitchen.

Pans simmered on the stove. Slade blared gaudily. Marina’s mother turned with a start, amid wrestling a huge black starfish into the bread bin.

“Oh… Merry Christmas, Elena?”

“Mum, what the hell are you doing?”

“Shhhhh! I’m confiscating your grandad’s wetsuit. He’s been getting excited about going for a swim today and I’m not having it! It’s December, for goodness sake! He’ll catch his death.” 

She finally crammed the lid on. Brushing her dark curls out of her eyes and smiling with relief, she hurried to hug them. “I didn’t hear you girls come in last night. How was your journey? Did you sleep well on that camp-bed I laid out for you, Lauren?”

They looked sideways at each other, but before they could answer she was off again. “I’m relieved you made it. Your cousins should have set off early to arrive for lunch, but your uncle dozed off in front of the log burner last night and forgot to park the van on the contactless charging point thingy. I told him getting his old van converted to methane tanks or solar would be effortless, but he insisted on buying that new, electric monster that needs charging every week. Boys and their toys! They’ll come tomorrow instead. Don’t let me forget to put the ramp on the front step for your cousin’s wheelchair. And what are we going to eat now! I thought roast dinner and trimmings today and leftovers tomorrow, but since they’re not coming today…”

“Merry Christmas weary travellers!” Marina’s father stepped jauntily in from the living room, beaming and squeezing Marina’s shoulder. “Elena, take a breather and a sip of your mulled wine, will you? You’re bombarding them! Have yourselves some brunch from the table, and can I offer you two a glass?”

Lauren took some crusty toast and the steaming wine. The raw, earthy flavour made her stop mid-sip and look around for reassurance. He turned the bottle to show the hand-painted label and smiled expectantly.

“I could grow grapes, we’ve finally got the climate for it, but I’m pretty proud of my veg-patch wine. The beetroot gives it a good body and a unique aroma, don’t you think?”

Lauren swallowed. 

“It’s unique alright, Dan! Smart to use your allotment veggies to make something like this.”

“I honestly think it’s great, Dad, definitely an improvement on your turnip and parsnip concoction.”

“Thanks, girls! That’s more of a compliment than I’ll ever get off Elena.”

Elena raised her eyebrows.

“Where’s Grandad?” asked Marina through a mouthful of granola.

“Let’s get him out here.” Elena flinched as Dan shouted into the living room, “Marco, do you want a top-up, old boy?”

A muffled grunt, then a jingling sound growing louder. Framed in the doorway, which was hung with holly, the old man seemed to grow taller upon seeing Maria. The pompom of his knitted green hat hung low on his crinkled forehead and he beamed through his beard. Spreading his arms wide, setting the bells on his shaggy jumper jangling, she ran to him. Lauren watched them as they hugged silently. It was a heart-warming sight.

Marco looked up, caught her staring and opened his arms again. “Lauren, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! I wasn’t sure if you would make it away from your big data project. Merry Christmas, so glad to celebrate with you this year!” 

Marina stepped back as Lauren took her turn to hug Marco.

“Thanks, Marco. I absolutely love the outfit! Yeah, thankfully I’ve finished writing and testing the ecosystem-modelling program now. Our team will begin installing it in the field in the new year; we’ve got big plans for 2050… Anyway, I haven’t seen you since Jamboree for the Sea last summer. How’s life on your boat in the harbour been treating you?”

He smiled, but Dan and Elena avoided his gaze. “Well, thanks for asking, Lauren. You know what? It’s lovely and cosy now I fixed that leak, and I don’t miss my little house on the seafront one bit. I’m glad they could recover the bricks from the sea for the new houses up on the hill, but there’s no way I’d move up there if they compensated me a million! I wouldn’t give up my sea view for nothing.”

He took a sip of his wine and grimaced. “So, how about some presents!”

Elena reached eagerly under the table for four bundles wrapped neatly in brown paper. “I know I’m breaking our ‘no bought gifts’ rule, but I simply had to give you each one of these. I think you’ll see why.”

Carefully folding back the paper, Marina said, “Oooh! Mum, I didn’t know they were ready!”

They held up a jumper each, knitted with vibrant yarns: blue, orange, sea-green.

Elena smiled and said, “I’ll be stocking them at my zero-waste shop for the next storm season. But I got these prototypes early, especially for you. I’m so proud to support the group Marina helped start. They’ve worked so hard to clean up the beaches over the years. Plus, their workshop gave so many people a job. They all miss you, you know, Marina? Anyway, you would never guess these yarns were recycled in our own little village from broken fishing nets and rubbish we picked up ourselves, would you?”

They pulled them over their heads, admiring their softness and praising the patterns Elena had chosen to suit each person.

“Here’s a ‘future’ present from me!” laughed Dan, passing round an envelope each. Inside was a voucher with the words ‘REDEEM FOR A HOMEMADE WINE OF YOUR CHOICE’.

“If you’ve got special requests, you’ll have to be patient. I’ll need the ingredients to be in season and then a few months for fermentation. Just as long as it’s not cabbage wine. I think my marriage might be over if I fill the house with that smell again.”

“You might be able to smell my gift too!” chuckled Marco. “I’ve brought a handsome smoked fish that’ll feed the five of us for dinner later. No need to worry about making that roast.”

“We brought something to go with that too. Wait a minute!”

Lauren dashed upstairs and carried down the merrily clinking hampers. Marco, Ellen and Dan marvelled as they unpacked a bounty of bottles and jars: honey, preserves, and chutneys from Lauren’s community garden. The handmade kitchenware from the solar kiln in Marina’s art studio was unwrapped next. Curvaceous cups and bowls soon crowded the table. They were emblazoned with fishes painted with a wood-ash glaze so their scales shone emerald. The huge trout-shaped oven dish and accompanying fish marinade of wild garlic and herbs, created especially for Marco by the pair, made him go quiet.

“I did get you a few more things,” he murmured to Marina and Lauren. He brought out a scuffed leather shoulder bag and a small, thick envelope.

“Lauren, I had to search the web for exactly what an ecologist does, but I hope you will find these useful.”

Undoing the buckle of the leather bag and lifting the flap, Lauren saw what was inside. 

“Marco, I can’t take these. They must be so valuable.”

“I’m almost blind, love, I’ll be happy knowing they’re being put to good use.”

Carefully turning the old leather and brass binoculars over in her hands, she imagined all the sights that Marco must have seen through them over the decades. The steaming breath of ocean giants rising from the waves. 

“Marco, I’m honoured. Thank you.”

Marina breathed in so sharply that everyone started. She looked up from the torn envelope, mouth open.

“Before you say anything, Marina, I only use local village currency these days anyway. I want you to use that to pay towards your trans-Atlantic trip you’ve been dreaming of. It’s your first time on the slow boat to America and you deserve to travel in luxury, my girl. I know you’ve got sea legs, but I’ve tried nodding off on some rickety budget bunks in the bowels of a boat in my time. Even I wouldn’t recommend it!

“What’s in there should at least afford you a porthole with a view on your way across the pond. You want to be in good shape when you get to Boston Marine Reserve. You’ve worked so hard for so long. The whales will be waiting for you.”

Marina’s brown eyes widened as she looked between the envelope, the binoculars and Marco.

“Grandpa!”

“Dad!” gasped Elena. “How much have you given her? That compensation money was for you to buy your new house!”

“Elena, I’m not moving up there and you know it.”

“But, Dad, one more storm like the last one and… and what do you think would happen to you out on that boat?”

Marco sighed impatiently.

“I’ve spent my life on the sea and the harbour is perfectly safe.”

“Come on, folks, let’s not do this on Christmas,” Dan said nervously.

Elena sounded angry when she replied, “Yes, and our last Christmas in this house too. How do you think that makes me feel? Marina was born here; it breaks my heart. But we are all going to have to move up to the flood-safe development sooner or later, and someone Dad’s age should not be living the way he is on that cold, drafty, smelly old fishing boat.”

Chair legs scraped across the stone floor as Marco stood up as straight as he could. “Well, I think I’ve had enough of your patronising for one day, thank you very much.”

They all protested to Marco not to go, but he waved a jingling hand in their direction and shut the door smartly behind him.

Lauren gingerly put the binoculars down. Marina put her head in her hands.

“Mum, I know you’re worried, but why do you keep treating him like he’s a child?”

“At his age he’s going to have to start accepting a bit of help and assistance, Marina. In his mind he’s still the ship’s captain, but he’s living in the past.”

Dan scratched his head. “I don’t know, I’d say he’s full of beans for his age.”

Elena replied scathingly. “Oh, Daniel, it doesn’t matter if he acts like he’s ‘full of beans’.” She wiggled her fingers. “He’s not well and you know it. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one taking that seriously.”

Dan looked apologetically at Lauren and said, “Come on, Elena. Relax, please.” 

She bristled. “Oh yes, this must be relaxing for you! Drinking wine all morning and not even lifting a finger to help with the food.”

“I offered to help, but you hadn’t decided what we were having yet!”

“Why am I supposed to decide everything around here, Daniel?”

Marina made eye contact with Lauren.

“Mum, Dad, be kind to each other. I’m going to check on Grandpa. Come on, Lauren.”

They quickly shut the door and heard the argument erupt. Marina sighed in the hallway’s cool darkness.

“I’m so sorry. Are you glad you came to have Christmas with us after all?”

“Of course I am. It must be so hard for your family right now. But they’re going to be so pleased when you break the news that you’re coming back to live nearby. Honestly, I’m excited to move here too. The sea-level threat makes this a prime place to implement the software. I think that, after everything we’ve learnt and the connections we’ve made in the city, we can help the villagers make a stand and build the future they want. Seriously, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than here with you right now.”

As they kissed, Lauren suddenly thought of the day they met. Lauren had been holding a banner and a megaphone. Marina had been dressed as a mermaid.

A barely perceptible squeak of rubber on wood. Gently letting go of each other, they looked up. Marco stood at the top of the stairs.

He was still wearing his green hat on his head, but, incredibly, he had stripped down to his underwear and what looked like rubber sandals. Lauren almost laughed in disbelief, until she saw the swimming goggles clutched in Marco’s hand. Her stomach knotted.

He rolled back his bony shoulders and stared silently down. His eyes said, Don’t try to stop me.

They stared back. The muffled sound of bickering continued from the kitchen.

Then quickly, quietly, Marina pulled off her sweater, then her trousers. She grinned at Lauren with an encouraging glint in her eye. Suddenly, heart pumping, Lauren began undressing too. Marco trod lightly on the stairs, gripping the banister. Within a few seconds, they were all through the front door and out into the street.

Marco strode ahead, his jelly shoes squeaking on the cobbles. Marina and Lauren hobbled after him. Their skin prickled and their hairs stood on end in the still December air. The iron sea stretched out under a steely sky. The seagulls cackled at them.

Striding in, Marco broke the surface entirely, then crested and pushed away vigorously. Marina reached for Lauren’s shivering hand and counted.

“3, 2, 1… now!”

The shock took their breath away. Gasping, Lauren instinctively kicked as hard as she could to keep her limbs from going numb. They splashed after Marco, towards the horizon.

“DAD!”

Elena’s scream skipped across the water like a stone. The swimmers froze and turned to see her at the water’s edge. Her hands reached after them. Her eyes were wide with tears. 

“Oh, Elena, my girl, I’m alright. I’m alright!” Marco called to her reassuringly, smiling, waving.

Her arms hung limp at her sides. Her shoulders jolted with sobs.

After a long moment, Dan trudged from the house. He deposited a stack of fluffy towels on a dry patch of the street and smiled wearily.

“There you go, you wild bunch.”

He took hold of Elena, speaking quietly as she melted into his arms. Finally, she straightened up resolutely. She called calmly this time.

“I’ll make some hot chocolate for you all. Don’t be out there too long.”

She went back inside, Dan’s arm around her shoulder.

From the sea, the village seemed miniature. The rooftops were silhouetted against the hills. The house looked pensively down at its reflection. 

Their submerged bodies tingled, cradled by the cold. Their skin flushed and their brains flooded with adrenaline. They looked at each other and realised they were all grinning.

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Part 3

The crowd had been flowing lazily between the stalls, sampling the hedonistic wealth of the ocean laid before them. Tourists slurped on enormous oysters bigger than their cupped hands, sucked up seaweed noodles and sipped on the local wines. But following the glittering excitement of the sunlit parade, and with the booming drumbeat picking up the pace, the energy was building. A person dressed as an octopus tumbled tipsily over a tentacle, but a shoal of friends hauled them up and they danced together towards the crowded stage.

Andre took that as a sign that his shift on the Jamboree for the Sea information stand was over. With haste, he tightly rolled up his banner and hand-painted map of the Marine Park. He gratefully pulled off his lurid T-shirt, embroidered with the regretful slogan ‘ASK ME ANYTHING, I’M A BIOLOGIST!’ and was rummaging in his bag when he heard an unwelcome sound amid the noise.

“Andre, is that you?”

He cursed under his breath and turned reluctantly, but jolted to standing when he recognised who was calling him.

“Freddie, hi! You look… great!”

Freddie beamed. “Thank you! I’m truly living my merperson fantasy.” They twirled for Andre to see from every angle, sea-glass sequins sparkling and blue hair flowing across bare shoulders. Andre pulled on a khaki shirt and awkwardly hauled on his rucksack, apologising when it bumped a passing seahorse. Freddie looked a little disappointed.

“Are you leaving already?”

“Erm, yeah, I think so. I’ve been here all day. I’m going to walk to the shore.”

“Okay… actually, would you mind if I tagged along? My dance group is going to some after-party now we’ve finished packing up our props from the parade, but I could do with a breather.”

Andre shrugged.

“Yes. Sure.”

They walked together, away from the pedestrian-congested hill-town. Their bare feet padded down the coast path, through the dappled shade of the rustling young forest, and mounted the wooden walkway across the wetlands. Wading birds cried and skittered away over the marsh on their spindly legs. A cool breeze made the summer heat sweeter. Andre appreciated Freddie’s silence after answering suggestive questions on the supposed properties of oysters all afternoon.

They settled on the edge of the jetty and let their legs dangle as they looked out at the sea. Every ripple was faceted like an opal, gleaming turquoise, tangerine and peach under the setting sun. Tendrils of cultivated seagrass and kelp licked the surface. The waves frothed distantly as they broke over the artificial reef, curving protectively around the bay from several miles out at sea. A mounded island at its centre, haloed by sea birds, blinked with a tiny lit beacon. Everything was calm.

“It’s amazing to think what people had to do to get us to this point. Especially those two legendary women who brought the villagers together to start the Ocean Futures Council in 2050.”

Andre looked stunned, but Freddie smiled and carried on.

“Don’t look so surprised, Andre. After meeting you at the Jamboree organizers’ meeting, I found your book in the library and read it cover to cover. It was fascinating!”

“I didn’t know you were interested in the history of the marine restoration project.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t presume, should you, silly! I do more than just dance.”

Freddie elbowed him playfully.

“Honestly, I think it’s amazing the job that you do, Andre. The first Sea Jamboree wasn’t a party for tourists, it was a protest. The residents want to keep that spirit alive for their ancestors. It’s emotional for them to remember that the wetland was a village once, where people lived and loved.

“But it could have been a lot worse. We’re lucky. One day we might have to fight for the ocean and our very way of life all over again. Of course we should celebrate 2200, the turn of the century and all that. But we can’t get complacent, right?”

Andre thought for a second, then said, “I can take you out to the beacon if you want to have a look?”

“Oooh, is that allowed?”

“Sure, I go every week. I’m the authorised maintenance operative for the AI program that monitors the bay ecosystem and informs the Ocean Council. Obviously Marina and Lauren Acosta-Burke designed the Bay Beacon to be a self-healing, self-sustaining system. The hydro-turbines clean themselves and use filters to harvest dissolved industrial minerals and microplastics for repairs. But it’s over a hundred years old now, so it’s good to keep a human eye on it. You just can’t beat the view from out there either.”

“No way! You kept that quiet. Well, thanks, I’d love to. Next week sometime?”

“Erm, the weather is turning worse tomorrow actually. My boat is moored nearby; you see the small green one? I could get you there and back in 45 minutes for your after-party. If you like?”

The boat pushed smoothly away with the force of its solar sail. It skimmed seaweed farms. Passed twinkling shoals of juvenile fish, cuttlefish and squid. Freddie was so busy looking down through crystalline water that, when they looked up, the facade of the Bay Beacon towers was overhead. The seabirds wailed. Andre helped them step off onto the rough steps, secured the moorings, then led the way up to the entrance.

Inside, their footsteps echoed. Sea-glass screens gleamed. Blue lights blinked.

Freddie wanted to ask how they’d built this place, what the machines measured, how it all worked. But Andre stood stock still, squinting through the panoramic window. There was something out there, in the open ocean. 

Andre fumbled frantically, finally bringing a pair of dented brass-and-leather binoculars to his eyes. Turning the focus, his jaw slowly dropped.

After an age, he passed them to Freddie.

Freddie lifted the binoculars and saw something completely unexpected.

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