Stronger Than Poseidon

Their daughter had gone away for the summer, leaving Sarah and her husband as a couple again. They turned to each other, almost strangers after years of work and child raising. Was a season long enough to become reacquainted, to discover the person opposite them? Life had changed them over the years. Were they a better fit after rubbing along together for two decades or had they drifted so far apart that one of them was in foreign waters?

To complicate things, Sarah and her husband had just moved to a different part of the country. Realising that retirement was within their grasp they had chosen to transplant themselves to a holiday spot that they’d enjoyed in the past. A small house by the sea in Cornwall – the sort of thing they’d dreamed about through the long years upcountry. The question was, how could they make this uncharted territory a home that they would both learn to love?

Leap in, was the answer. The beach was a mere twenty minutes’ walk away. Still in tourist mode they had visited a surf shop, supplying themselves with beach shoes and changing robes. Carrying their new kit in waterproof bags, they traipsed down the hill towards the call of the sea. Not yet seasoned swimmers, they hadn’t thought to check the tides or wind direction. When they reached the beach, the waves were lapping up against the sea wall, leaving no sand on which to place a towel. Sarah and her husband sat on the wall, letting the spray from the eager waves tickle their toes.

“Well, we’re here,” her husband remarked, “we may as well go in.”

Sarah shook her head. She didn’t do waves. Give her a placid cove with barely a ripple in the water and she was confident to set forth. In a churning ocean, she was at the mercy of Poseidon, powerless beside his strength. Not her idea of fun.

Her husband was already in, gesturing to Sarah to take the plunge.

“It’s not too cold,” he called. She doubted him. His concept of cold and hers were at least ten degrees different. “I’ll stay with you,” he offered. He was a strong swimmer, nonplussed by the waves. With him by her side, would she feel safe enough to brave the sea? And would he stay with her, or swim off as soon as he saw her get in?

“You have to promise,” she said. “I don’t want to drown.”

“You won’t drown. I promise.”

After all these years, did she choose to trust him?

This was an important question to answer.

Sarah slipped the towel from her shoulders and slid down off the wall, the ice fingers of the Atlantic encircling her thighs. A wave leapt up, slapping her in the face. She spluttered out sea water. And then he was beside her, leading her farther in.

“Get past the breakwater and you’ll be fine.”

Sarah did as she was told, diving under an oncoming wave and then up the other side, clear of the rise and fall. Once out in the bay, they bobbed, the undulations of the sea like a cradle rocking them. Sarah swam a few strokes farther out and then rolled onto her back, looking up at the sky, still halcyon blue though it was late in the day. There were no traffic sounds or human chatter, the land left behind seemingly remote and unimportant. A gull swooped overhead towards the nearby cliffs and his cry was the only sound to disturb the peace. Was the gull calling his mate to come and careen through the air currents with him?

They were not long in the water, just long enough to experience being in a different element. As they turned towards shore, Sarah’s husband watched the sea behind them and told her when to swim full speed to avoid the crash of the next wave. As she struggled onto to the sliver of sand now visible, he took Sarah’s arm, guiding her past the pull and suck of the tide.

Her changing towel had warmed in the sun and now wrapped around her in a comforting embrace. She sat on the sea wall for a moment, admiring the expanse of ocean that she had just enjoyed. Yes, enjoyed. The experience had been worth pushing through her fear. And her question was answered. She had tested the trust between them and found it seaworthy.

There are many promises broken through the course of a marriage but many are kept as well.

Once changed into dry clothes, they approached a vendor alongside the harbour, purchasing a box of hot chips. The salt from the chips mingled with the sea salt still on their lips. Strolling along the harbour wall, they watched the sun sink, without resistance, into the distant edge of the ocean.

It was like being on holiday except they were home, together.