Sea of solace<\/p>\n
Sri Mulyanti Goenawan<\/p>\n
It is our life; it has been for generations but now it has
\nbrought death.<\/p>\n
We always knew to respect it. At times, for sure, we lived in
\nfear of it and understood its power and the potential it had to
\nbring destruction and even death. Sometimes heavy storms would
\nlash the waves up against the rocks on our beaches. Sometimes
\ntrees would fall and be carried out to sea like toothpicks but
\nalways our menfolk would return to their boats and ships.<\/p>\n
It was inevitable that my sons would join their father sailing
\non the ships we call pinisi. They grew up in the shadow of these
\nships as they were being built. They grew up with their father so
\noften away at sea. He would come home to tell them stories about
\nhis voyages to all the islands of Indonesia. He would bring them
\ntoys and mementos, and it was only a matter of time before they
\njoined him on his voyages.<\/p>\n
Their father worked hard, he was proud to continue the sea-
\nfaring traditions of the Bugis people and his ambition was to
\nhave his own ship built -- to be his own captain. It literally
\ntook years for him to build it. As our sons grew old enough, they
\nwould help their father in its construction. When he was home he
\nworked tirelessly on his ship and I spent hours watching them
\nwork together.<\/p>\n
I would bring them juice to take away their thirst as they
\nshaved the planks of timber that gradually made the ship take
\nshape. I would weave the thatch that we placed over the ship to
\nkeep the rain out as it gradually took shape and became a sea-
\nfaring vessel.<\/p>\n
Our sons were too young too sail with their father when he
\nstarted building that ship, but as the ship took shape and became
\nworthy of taking to the seas, so too did our sons take shape and
\nbecome strong young men ready to take their place, with pride,
\nalongside their father.<\/p>\n
The ship was a wonder to see, and it was also a wonder to see
\nour sons become young men, ready to become sailors under the
\nwatchful eye of their father who was to be their captain.
\nFinally, after so many months of hard work, the ship was ready to
\nbe launched.<\/p>\n
As is our tradition, the ship was launched with great
\ncelebrations. Everyone in our village came along and helped drag
\nthe ship from the beach down into the sea.<\/p>\n
Our joy was unrestrained as the ship finally bobbed on the
\nwaves. On the day of the launch, the sea was remarkably calm. In
\nfact it was almost as if the sea did not want to receive the
\nship. The men hauling on the ropes to get the ship afloat had to
\ntoil for a long, long time just to get the ship sufficiently away
\nfrom the shore and into deeper water.<\/p>\n
A strange feeling came over me as I watched the launching;
\nsomehow something did not seem right. Even though I saw the
\ngreat enthusiasm on the faces of all of the villagers as they
\nstruggled to get the ship out onto the water; even though I saw
\nthe great excitement in the hearts and minds of my two sons as
\nthey worked alongside their father; even though I saw the great
\ndetermination and pride in the face of my husband -- I felt
\nterribly uneasy.<\/p>\n
I felt as though a terrible mistake was being made.<\/p>\n
In the days before the ship's maiden voyage, I tried to
\nconvince myself that my sense of unease was just because I knew
\nthat it was just a matter of days before not only my husband
\nwould be away at sea for long periods of time but also my two
\nsons would be gone with him also.<\/p>\n
I had grown used to not having my husband with me for long
\nperiods of time, but now I faced the prospect of not even having
\nmy two sons with me as well. These thoughts ran over and over in
\nmy mind as my husband and his crew including my sons did their
\nfinal preparations of the ship.<\/p>\n
Anchored just off shore, the ship was consistently visited to
\nfinalize the preparations for that maiden voyage. Small leaks
\nwere patched up; final adjustments were made to the sails and to
\nthe smoky engine which would drive the ship from island to island
\ncarrying its cargoes of food supplies and timber. There were
\ndays when I did go out to the ship also.<\/p>\n
I could not help but admire the wonder of the ship built so
\nskillfully from timbers throughout. As I approached the ship in a
\nsmall fishing boat the beauty of the shape and the curve of the
\nbow as it gently rose and fell upon the calm waters just off our
\nshores seemed to reassure me.<\/p>\n
The ship looked so right in the water, as it was being built
\nit seemed cumbersome; it seemed like some monolithic monster
\nsitting on land when it should have been in the water. Now as it
\ngently rode the waves of the waters near to our village the ship
\nlooked right, looked ready to sail and I felt reassured.<\/p>\n
But I suppose it is true looks can be deceptive. On the day
\nthat they set off on their maiden voyage, I wept for my sons and
\nfor my husband. I had, of course, said my goodbyes many times
\nbefore but this time I was saying goodbye to the three closest
\nmen to me in my life. Some of the villages understood my tears
\nbut others, I know, spoke about me behind my back, saying that I
\nwas being overemotional.<\/p>\n
It was only eleven days later that I was to be emotional
\nagain. But this time nobody could accuse me of being
\noveremotional. The ship's maiden voyage was only to be a short
\ntrip between the islands of Sulawesi. My husband, the proud
\ncaptain of the ship, declared that in his new ship the voyage
\nwould take only four days. So when the fifth, sixth, seventh and
\neighth days came and went, our fears began to increase.<\/p>\n
Then on the eleventh day the dreaded news came. One of the
\nother ships from our village had followed the route of my
\nhusband's ship. News came of a terrible storm that had wreaked
\nhavoc on this shipping route. Debris had been washed ashore and
\nthe conclusion was that the ship and all hands on her hand been
\nlost. My husband and my two sons were gone.<\/p>\n
I wept for days. I looked out at the sea with anger for I knew
\nthat it was a sea of death and yet it was the sea of life. It had
\nbrought life for my family but now it had taken them away.
\nSomehow, I felt that when we tried to launch the ship it was
\ntrying to speak to me, trying to tell me that the ship should not
\nsail, for something was not ready, something was not right.<\/p>\n
I look out to sea now but I have no more anger. I simply look
\nfor solace in the sea.<\/p>",
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