Little Green Boat

The Haarens  lived at the end of the street

in an old white colonial 
at the edge of Polly's Pond
near the mouth of Oyster Bay
which joined the Shrewsbury River
and flowed past Rumson
under the Sea Bright Bridge.

In the summer we went 
thru the Haaren's backyard 
to their dock, to the boats, 
to the islands out in the river;

In the fall the river
would come to us, 
when a hurricane like Dorothy 
flooded the pond '57 
and folks navigated the neighborhood
in their boats.

And in the winter,
we went ice skating on the river and
as always, started our adventures 
from the Haaren's backyard.

My family had a little green sailboat
called a "Turnabout."
There are photos in the family album 
of my father launching the Turnabout one spring day
standing in muck up to his knees at the waters edge
while Craig Haaren eased the boat into the water
from his backyard.

I wonder
how many summers 
Daddy got to play with his little boat
before he went to the hospital
It couldn't have been more than one or two.
He probably put the boat into the water
one spring day
and went off to the hospital a few weeks later.
 
We kids were the only ones
who didn't know
what was really happening.
Even Tommy Gross, 
who lived in the big house 
between ours and the Haaren's
knew
because he said to me one day,
"What if your daddy dies?"
and I said,
"My daddy's not gonna die."

But Tommy Gross
must have known something 
that  I didn't know
because later that summer
my mother came into our room
and told us
that Daddy had died the night before.
She told us we could throw something
if we were angry.
My brother says he threw his bathrobe.

We hung onto the little green boat
for as long as we stayed in Rumson--
about four more years after Daddy died.
But my brother was the only one
who was allowed to sail it. 

I was  too young
to take the boat out by myself
until the summer of '62
when I went away to 
Camp Kennebec
and  earned my official
"skipper's papers."

 
But my mother had remarried earlier that year, 
to a dull attorney who thought
being close to New York
was more important 
than being close to the river.

So while I was off in Maine
finally learning how to sail
the rest of the family stayed behind
to pack up the household and move it inland.

And while I was gone, 
my mother sold the boat 
and when the summer was over
I went home to a home 
that had never been my home before

So I never did get to sail 
my Daddy's little green boat
off the Haaren's dock
out of Polly's Pond
onto Oyster Bay
down the Shrewsbury River and
under the Sea Bright Bridge.