The Pirate Princess: Return to the Emerald Isle (4 page)

Race Rock Lighthouse was
Meg’s next landmark. It was in the no-go zone, so she had to turn the boat back and forth into the wind in a zigzag motion called
tacking
. Meg kept the grey stones of the lighthouse in sight as she tacked back and forth towards the most challenging part of their trip: the dangerous channel between Race Point and the Lighthouse.

Race Rock Light, as it is called, is a
nineteenth-century stone building that was constructed on a massive concrete and granite turret-like foundation built on top of a reef. With the help of divers who placed riprap on the underwater ledge to level it off above the water, the foundation itself took seven years to complete. The solid foundation was capped with a beautiful, story-and-a-half, solid stone house where the lighthouse keeper was quartered. The keeper’s house was connected to a tower that held the light. The lighthouse, in comparison to the foundation, took only nine months to complete, a fact which always amazed Meg. No matter how long it took to build, Race Rock Light was needed to guard boats from The Race, that fast and powerful current that moves in two directions, depending on the tide at the opening of Long Island Sound. The lighthouse was placed off Race Point because of the dangerous reef and rocks below the surface in the area of The Race that had sent many boats to a watery grave before the construction of the lighthouse.

The wind was blowing heavily and the
Muirín
was on a close haul headed to port. Meg could just make out Race Rock Light over the starboard bow when she heard something she had never before heard in her life.

At first Meg thought the sound she heard was the wind, which can sometimes make a noise when whipping through the rigging of a boat. The sound she heard, however, was not coming from the lines on the
Muirín
. From somewhere in the distance she heard a high-pitched wail. It started at a very high pitch that slowly went down and back up in a mournful-sounding cry.

“Do you hear that?” Meg shouted to her family.

“It’s just the rigging singing, Sweet Pea,” said her father.

“Meg, you know that sound!” added her
mother.

“No
. It’s too loud and it’s not coming from our boat,” Meg said.

“It is probably coming from that big sloop moored near the shore on the port side
,” Eileen said, pointing to a beautiful boat anchored just off of the island.

“No. It’s coming from the starboard side where there are no boats
, and it sounds like a woman crying.”

“Meg
, honey,” Shay said with a big smile, “sound travels very strangely on the water. It bounces off waves and buoys and other things and can trick a sailor into thinking it is coming from somewhere that it is not. It’s just the lines on that sloop vibrating with the wind.”

Meg’s
father gave her a kind look and added, “Sounds like the rigging singing are what made old sailors come up with all sorts of tales of mermaids, sirens, and sea monsters when it was just their minds playing tricks on them.”

“I know what I am hearing
, guys, and it is a woman crying!” Meg defiantly shot back.

“Yeah
, like the big crash you heard last night that no one else heard,” teased Eileen. The family chuckled. Meg shot her sister a threatening look—she was always teasing her—and Eileen returned the glance by sticking her tongue out at Meg. Eileen wasn’t a bad big sister like the ones you see in the movies, but she never made things easy for Meg. She often taunted her and made sure Meg knew who the oldest child was. These two girls with such different hobbies rarely had anything to share with each other. Meg had no interest in dancing and sports, and Eileen had no interest in the sea. Perhaps because of their differences, they usually got along okay, even if it was because they were never in each other’s way. But Eileen still bugged Meg at times.

The sound Meg had heard was soon lost in the cacophony of the strong headwind whipping the sails and the waves crashing around them. She concentrated on tacking
towards the historic landmark, closely watching the water in front of the boat. The tide was going out, and Meg knew that the huge amount of water emptying through The Race was helping the
Muirín
in its battle of forward motion against the heavy wind. With the tide going out, the headwind was actually a good thing to have at this particular leg. If the wind had been with them, both natural forces would combine to push the boat at top speed towards the underwater reef—the reef the lighthouse warded boats away from.
Beating into the wind
allowed Meg a little more time to execute the maneuvers she knew by heart to get the boat through the rarely used channel. Few boats and captains attempted to go between the point and the rock, but the Murphy girls never steered clear of a challenge.

As they neared Race Rock Light, Shay was the first to spot a woman sitting on the high granite wall that
formed the foundation for the light house. “Look at that!” she said. “Some lady must have paddled out to the Race Rock Light.”

They all
looked and saw a woman sitting on the sea wall. She had long, white hair, and was wearing a flowing, grey dress. Everything about her seemed drab and grey. The wind was blowing her hair and dress in all directions, and it looked as though she was combing her white locks. It was such a strange sight that the whole Murphy family was silent for a moment while they stared. The grey woman was bent over as if she was shielding herself from the wind, so they could not see her face.

“There
’s no boat tied up to the pier,” Shay said, pointing. “It must be a kayaker.”

“She’s dressed kind of weird for a kayaker
,” Mark said. “You know, ever since that ghost show on cable did an episode at the lighthouse, there have been all sorts of weirdos sneaking their way on the rock to ghost hunt.”

Meg knew what her father was talking about. One night a while back
, she heard her father yell and it had woken her up. She wanted to know what he was yelling about, so she went downstairs to snoop. She found him on the edge of the couch talking to the TV. “No way!” he had yelled at the screen, which, to Meg’s surprise was in black and white. The image on the screen was a rocking chair in a corner of an attic that started rocking all by itself! Mark explained that the show was using night vision and that it was in the keeper’s house of Race Rock Light. He allowed Meg to stay up with him to watch the rest of the show because he said what they were watching was in their own back yard and of interest to her, but Meg always thought he had kept her with him because he was a little scared of the footage. At the time, Meg didn’t get what the big deal was; the show had probably rigged a fishing line or something to move the chair (it was on the Sci-Fi channel), but she happily stayed up and watched the rest of the show with her dad. That night came back to her as they sailed past the island.

The air around the
Muirín
seemed to be charged with electricity and the hair on Meg’s skin stood on end. She needed to concentrate on where she was going and how to get there; she could not just stop and stare at the sight of the strange woman. When she turned the boat port, into the channel, the wind changed and she was forced to alter her plan mid leg. She tweaked the tiller and pulled in the forward sheet tight while tacking with the aft sail. Meg was able to sneak a peek at the grey woman between tacks, and it was as if her vision had blurred. Although Meg saw the lighthouse and the seawall in perfect focus, the details of the woman’s lines were soft and had no definition for her. It was very strange.

Meg could tell her mother was
also bothered by the sight of the woman. Shay never took her eyes off the woman as they passed, which showed just how much she trusted Meg to navigate this hazardous spot. This caused Meg to try even harder not to look at the grey woman and just pilot the boat.

The
Coast Guard had automated the lighthouse in 1978 and made it off limits to boaters. Shay did what any good captain should do: She radioed in their sighting of the woman on the wall.

“Coast Guard Station
, this is the
Muirín.
Over.”

“Hi
, Shay. What’s up?” was the informal reply she received from the voice at the other end of the radio.

“We are just rounding Race Point and see a woman trespassing up on Race Rock Light.”

“Thanks, Shay. We’ll send out someone to investigate… By the way, could you ask Mark if I can swing by tomorrow and pick up a few lobsters for dinner? Over.” Mark smiled and nodded.

“He said
‘no problem,’ but radio orders cost extra. Over,” joked Shay, and they all had a laugh at their family’s close connection to the local Coast Guard guys.

Meg heard the wail again over the
sound of the wind and she looked back to Race Rock as it grew smaller in the distance. The sight of the grey woman gave her goose bumps.
Was she the one crying
? Meg had steered the boat expertly through the channel in the heavy wind. They were beating against the wind, and Meg was forced to do some tight tacking, swiftly turning the tiller left and then right while trying not to lose momentum or control of the boat. Meg kept the dock of her grandmother’s house as her landmark and soon the
Muirín
was tied up at Nanny Sullivan’s on Wilderness Point.

Nanny Sullivan’s house was tucked in the back corner of the property of an estate house on Wilderness Point. The small parcel of land had been a gift to her and her husband from one of the ‘old money’ families because Sean Sullivan landscaped their property and took care of their house when they were not on the island, and Kathleen had become very close with the family through teaching their children sailing every summer. It was an astoundingly generous gift and Kathleen and Sean never stopped thanking the family that had given it to them. The Sullivans built themselves a small cottage on the parcel. It was hidden behind a stand of trees but had a great view of the Atlantic Ocean.

Meg’s
grandfather Sean had died before she was born and Nanny Sullivan lived in the beautiful cottage by herself. Shay always said that she hated the thought of her mother living all alone on the water, but Nanny would have it no other way; she had built the house by hand along with her husband and had raised Shay in it, so she would never leave.

The
Sullivans called their house
Tír na nÓg
(pronounced
teer na noog
), after the Irish mythological Island of the Young. Legend has it that in the far off mists to the west of Ireland, a magical island exists where the fairies live and you never grow old. When the Sullivans first sailed to Fishers Island, they were so amazed at how much it looked like Ireland that Sean was convinced it had to be the legendary
Tír na nÓg.
This was one of the reasons Nanny so easily convinced him to move to the island.

The
Sullivans had lived a charmed existence on Fishers Island from the moment they landed. Summers were filled with clam bakes and sunsets and, although they did not see much of each other during the day, they made up for it when the weather got cold. When the summer residents of Fishers Island left for their “regular” houses, the Sullivans looked forward to nights spent around the fire reading and telling each other stories.

It really was a magical place and they lived happily there, but even the spell of their own
Tír na nÓg
could not save Sean from the heart attack that stole him from his family one fateful day years past.

When Sean Sullivan passed away
, Mark and Shay had just bought
Sweet Haven
and they invited Kathleen to live with them in Mystic. They were worried about her living by herself on an island, and Shay wanted her mother nearer to her. Kathleen politely refused. The cottage held too many dear memories to just abandon it. She also said that, according to the old stories, the moment you set foot off of
Tír na nÓg,
you would shrivel up and die, and she didn’t want to chance that happening to her.

Nanny Sullivan was tall with silver hair that was always cut short. She had the presence and demeanor of a queen, and it seemed as though she could look right through you. At the same time
, she had a twinkle in her eye that let you know she was not as stuffy as she looked. She was sitting in her usual place, in a rocking chair on the front porch of her small cottage, her legs crossed at the ankles and her hands resting politely on her knees.

“Hello
, Murphy clan!” she boomed with a voice that can only come from a life of calling out instructions over the wind.

“Nanny!” the kids shouted as they ran up the dock to her house.

Sean jumped up on her lap and nuzzled his head into her neck, “Would ya look at this lad. He’s as handsome as his father and gettin’ bigger by the day.” She gave him a hug and looked up at Eileen and Meg.

“And how’s Eileen?”
Nanny had a lilting Irish accent that had softened only a little from living in America so long.

“I’m good
, Nanny, real busy as usual. I have a big dance competition next week and we just found out that my soccer team is going to play in a tournament.”

“That’s wonderful
, dear,” Nanny patted Eileen on her shoulder. “Now, Shay, take the wee one from me so I can grab a hold of the birthday girl.” Shay picked up a squirming and now unhappy Sean from his grandmother’s lap and Nanny pulled a reluctant Meg towards her.

“
Ahh, look at ya. As beautiful as a Connemara sunrise, and I think you may have grown since the last I saw ya.”

“Nanny
,” blushed Meg, “I was here two days ago and am just the same.”

“No
, Meg. I’d say yer definitely a smidge taller and a tad wiser. I watched ya bring the boat between the point and the rock and from the way ya were piloting the
Muirín
in this heavy wind, I’d say yer the finest sailor in these waters. How’s my birthday girl?”

“I’m fine
, Nanny” said Meg.

“Oh! Just fine
, are ya?”

“Just fine,” said Meg with a yawn
. “I’m a little tired ‘cause I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Well
, isn’t that funny. Neither did I.” She looked around at the family. “It was the strangest thing. Around midnight, I was sound asleep and was woken by the loudest crash. I thought a plane from the airstrip had smashed into me front room. I got up and looked around the house, but there was nothing.”

“Oh
, my God, Nanny! That is exactly what happened to me last night, too.” Meg got right in front of her and looked into her grey eyes, “Finn and I thought that a tree had fallen on our house. We looked around, but there was nothing.”

Mark chimed in, “I found her outside with the dog around midnight
, and she was talking pretty excitedly about a big crash she heard.”

“How strange is that?” said Shay.
“Both you and Meg heard a loud crash at the same time and in two different places.”

Nanny Sullivan
pursed her lips and frowned as if she had recalled something bad and repeated, “Strange indeed… a crash… a crash... ” Suddenly her face softened as she gave up trying to remember. She said to Meg, “No granddaughter of mine can be ‘just fine’ on her birthday.” She got up from her chair and grabbed Meg by the shoulders. “Tired or not, it’s time to celebrate. Ya only turn eleven once.”

Just before they entered the cottage, Nanny paused and looked down at Meg. It looked
as though she had remembered what she was trying to recall just a minute earlier. She held her pointer finger in the air near her temple and took a breath like she was about to speak, but instead gave Meg a strange smile and continued inside. Meg returned the smile but she couldn’t help but wonder what her grandmother was going to say before stopping herself.