I once heard a story about how wives and mothers of sea faring men would wave the boats off out to sea, but would turn, at the last moment, before the boats were out of sight. It was regarded as bad luck to watch the boats disappear for fear that it would indeed be the last time, for fear that the boat would indeed dissolve into the horizon and never come back.
|Fishing Boat, Leaving Harbour at Pittemweem, Fife, Scotland on flickr|
As someone who claims not to be superstitious, I must admit this is a tradition I have adopted as my own. I have never verbalised or given the action any weight before, however I do consciously tear my eyes away from the departing vision of my husband as he 'sails' out into the wide open sky.
As always I am left, tethered with my two little anchors. My two small boys. We are content here and for the most part are happy to count down the days until the nets are pulled in and the boats sail home.