She Passed By Quietly

I remember seeing the Morgan, even if I didn’t remember her name, when I was a kid. In fact, I have rather strong memories of the Charles W. Morgan and an old souvenir (does anyone use that word anymore—it does seem perfect for a wooden ship though) from a childhood visit. I even realized recently a photo I have hanging on the wall was from that same trip. Standing along the shore yesterday, waiting for the prize possession of the Mystic Seaport to return, the crowds gathered quickly as they ran along the waters edge to see the ship pull into her dock. The shopkeepers had pretty much closed up, knowing they had nothing that was going to turn people away from the sight in the harbor. One woman jumped up on the step next to me to get a better picture and said something about how amazing this must be for the kids. I and the keeper of the print shop I was standing next too agreed with her. When she walked away a few moments later he said with an innocent smile, “forget the kids.” I seconded his thought. There is no denying children know more than there elders did when they were young, for all sorts of reasons. And while I may not have remembered that she was a whaling ship—or how old she was—or any of her history before I returned four years ago, I always had this mysterious fascination with her. After many decades passing, and years of documenting her restoration, watching her drift into port as the sun was setting, that fascination was as strong as it was when that picture was taken long ago.—Dominick