reading Moby dick ... wish I could <exa>
On one side stood a long, low, shelf-like table covered with cracked glass cases, filled with dusty rarities gathered from this wide world's remotest nooks.a faded picture of the Virgin Mary,
Stella Maris,
Our Lady, Star of the Sea, guide and protector of seafarers
knitting needles and heavy wood yarn, a half-finished mariners sweater for the husband
misshapen tallow candles in carefully-polished but dented pewter holders
a heavy wooden chest, warped from age and countless trips to far-off lands sits in a shadowy corner. In faded white paint on the lid, in painstaking script, reads (John Seafarer). Though free from dust and cobwebs - (Mrs Seafarer) keeps the house spotlessly clean - the chest hasn't been opened in years. Sleeping undisturbed within the chest is a collection of curious fish-hooks, a rusty marlinspike, bits of stale tobacco, ill-fitting oilskins, and a threadbare sailcloth sack.