Mangoes, Oceans and Covid Lullabies
Joel wrote this piece for our Annual at the end of 2020, but we loved it so much we wanted it to have a space on the blog too. We hope you enjoy it.
Dear Gentle Breeze
As a kid, I loved getting mail. I was THAT teenager who’d rifle through magazines for free offers just to hear that little postman bell. It’s one of those quirky things that’s stayed with me into adulthood. There was one summer where I was certain the universe had read my mind. I got the feeling that my dreams were about to come true. Mail had arrived.
The parcel was a good size, good weight.
This was a good sign.
I licked my lips, ripped open the envelopes, and took a look inside.
Miniature Donkey Talk Magazine
Ultimate recipes: Corn seven ways
How to build the body women want
The writer's handbook: An Introduction
Four moves for a firm bum
Win tickets for two to St Lucia
An old map labelled “Terra Pericolosa”
Dear Gentle Breeze
I don’t feel confident today.
I’m at the beach and it’s beautiful.
But I’m not a good swimmer.
My dad, however, is amazing.
Like fish in water, he was built by 365 days of weekends in Moruga.* Jumping into rivers stinging sweet, sweet like ice in 30 degrees, skin dark like molasses in strong coffee. But he never taught me how.
Dear Gentle Breeze
I married up into a swimming dynasty. A true water baby. An Ariel of the sea. A few years ago we holidayed in Tobago and someone came up with the bright idea to go kayaking. I dreamt of that old map labelled “Terra Pericolosa” and wished it was here. In classical times, “Terra Periculosa” was code for land that was unmapped. The dangerous unknown. They were the places to be wary of.
I won’t lie. I was nervous. But what felt like certain death actually started off quite pleasantly. We said goodbye to everything we knew and sailed into the wide open.
It was exhilarating.
The waves were gentle.
We conquered currents.
We discovered fish drawn against the clearest blue.
Like Christopher Columbus, we “discovered” a deserted cove at Englishman Bay. It was our little slice of paradise. We felt like Robinson Crusoe and Swiss Family Robinson amalgamated. We found mango trees laden with fruit. We ate until comatose. It was magical.
Dear Gentle Breeze
We decided to head back to our hotel. On the way back, things swiftly became less than idyllic. What had felt beautiful became dark and threatening. The sea, no longer gentle, became alive and irritable.
The wind was too strong.
The currents too opinionated.
It’s pretty exhausting rowing against things we don't have control over.
I was so tired.
We gasped for air
My gym-less core muscles battled with my body to keep me upright.
I’m not gonna lie, Sallee rowed for both of us! I’m man enough to admit it.
Dear Gentle Breeze
Help me to be brave. To be courageous, even when we sail into those places or situations that make us feel downright frightened.
“Terra Pericolosa.”
Some of us have already lost some cargo.
Some of us have lost precious things along the way.
Everything I care about is with me in this boat.
Love is here.
Hope is here too…
But so is the fear of the unknown.
So keep up your courage, unemployed mom.
Keep swimming, single dad.
And as land stretches ahead, familiar and new,
Maybe the same Gentle Breeze that keeps me on this journey, is offering a way home too.
“Terra Pericolosa.”
End
*Moruga is said to be the place where Christopher Columbus landed when he "discovered" Trinidad.
** Joel Duntin is a Londoner and Trinidadian living with wife and daughter in the Cariboo, British Columbia. Once upon a time, Joel was a musician, theologian and mental health practitioner. These days he prefers the moniker “Daddy” and spends his days constantly obsessing about what his next meal should be.