Story of the Mermaid's Tears

When graceful, tall-masted sailing ships ruled the oceans of the world, sailors exchanged stories in port, whispering of beautiful and exotic sea creatures. Word spread of these graceful maidens who swam with ships and held the power of the waves and the luck of the sailors in their hands. The maidens could change the mighty course of nature, but were forbidden to do so by Neptune, the stern, watchful god of the sea.

One dark, storm-ravaged night, with sails ripping and masts cracking, a schooner fought to find safety in Friendly Cove off Nootka Island in the San Juans. The ship was familiar to the mermaid who swam along its side . . . she had weathered many crossings with the ship and its captain. As the ship heeled in the violent wind, the captain lost his hold on the wheel, tumbling perilously close to the raging sea. In an instant, the mermaid calmed the wind and tamed the waves, changing the course of nature and saving the life of a man she had grown to love from afar.

For her impetuous act, Neptune banished the sobbing mermaid to the oceans depths, condemning her for eternity never to surface or swim with the ships again. To this day, her gleaming tears wash up on the beaches of Puget Sound as beach glass . . . crystalline treasures in magic sea colors, an eternal reminder of true love.

© 2002 THE MERMAID'S TEARS

Beauty's Daughters

There be none of Beauty's daughters with a magic like thee;
And like music on the waters
Is thy sweet voice to me.
When, as if its sound were causing
The charmed ocean's pausing,
The waves lie still and gleaming:
And the hill'd winds seem dreaming.

And the midnight moon is weaving
Her bright chain o'er the deep;
Whose breast is gently heaving,
As an infant's asleep:
So the spirit bows before thee
With a full but soft emotion,
Like the swell of summer's ocean."

Lord Byron

The Mermaid

Who would be a mermaid fair,
Singing alone,combing her hair,
Under the sea, in a golden curl,
With a comb of pearl,
On a throne?

I would be a mermaid fair.
I would sing to myself the whole day;
With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair;
And still as I comb'd I would sing and say,
"Who is it loves me? who loves not me?"
I would comb my hair till my ringlets would fall
Low adown, and around;
And I should look like a fountain of gold
Springing alone
With a shrill inner sound,
Over the throne
In the midst of the hall;
Till that great sea-snake under the sea
From his coiled sleeps in the central deeps
Would slowly trail himself sevenfold
Round the hall where I sate, and look in at the gate
With his large calm eyes for the love of me.
And all the mermen under the sea
Would feel their immortality
Die in their hearts for the love of me.

Alfred Lord Tennyson

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