The Innsmouth Lights

The townsfolk hold their breath as the bell chimes - ten, eleven, twelve. For a second it seems as if time stops, and then…

Degorius rows back to shore alone, reaching the harbour just as the town’s clock began to strike noon. He looked back out to the reef some three hundred yards away, the King and Queen little more than dots to his ageing eyes.

The boat reaches the reef as the chanting stops. Degorius helps the children on to the rocks and seats them in the stout wooden thrones he’d built two days earlier. John and Jennifer are quiet and calm. The air and sea as still as oil.

The King and Queen we give to thee
Our two souls a gift for the sea

Let's not hear the old god callin
Let's not see the waves a thundrin

The King and Queen we give to thee.

Don't you hear the old sea growlin
Don't you hear the wind a howlin

Don't you hear the captain pawlin
Don't you hear the pilot bawlin

Only one more day hungry
Only one more day an empty net

Degorius Priest pushes the boat away from the dock with an oar, and slowly begins to row. The crowds of townsfolk chant softly as the King and Queen make their way to the Black Reef.

The boat is decorated in white shells and pearls, and at the stern a gaff and a harpoon are crossed.

John and Jennifer kiss their parents goodbye. John’s mother sobs and cries out, her husband holds her tightly. The King and Queen descend the steps of the dock to the waiting rowing boat.

An ink drawing of the King and Queen of the Ocean. Two young children, the queen, in a dress and a sharks jaw bone for a crown. The king, dressed in leather, with a nautilus shell upon his head.

The Queen is wearing a white knitted dress adorned with pearls. On her head sits a gilded shark’s jaw crown. The King wears an oiled leather tunic, inlaid with rings of iron. On his head, a nautilus shell trimmed with jet.

The King and the Queen of the Ocean walk towards the dock, flanked by their parents. As they reach the harbour a piper plays a mournful tune.

An ink drawing of the symbol of the Whalers, a pair of crossed harpoons.

An ink drawing of the symbol of the Fisherfolk, half ram, half fish - The Sealamb.

As noon approaches, all the townsfolk make their way to the harbour wall. They are dressed in their Sunday best, the whalers all wearing their harpoon brooches, the fishers all wearing a pin of the sealamb. They stand in silence looking out toward the shoals.

The solstice sun creeps over the horizon, weakly illuminating the rooftops of Innsmouth, through a veil of fog.

An ink drawing of Degorius Priest, Keeper of the Shoals. He wears a beanie hat, and has a grizzled look about him. A scar runs across his forehead, clipping a circular tattoo.

It’s quiet across the town today. Last night’s feast and revelry has left people delicate and moody. On the Black Reef, Degorius Priest unloads timber from his clinker-built skiff. He’ll spend half a day there, between tides, building for the solstice ceremony.

John Chapman, a whaler’s son, and Jennifer Cochrane, a scallop dredger’s daughter, will be this year’s King and Queen of the sea. Tonight the town, East and West, prepare a feast for their families. Halibut and octopus will be at the heart of the festive meal.

An ink sketch of Lightship No. 1. A large lantern sits atop a scaffold in the centre of the deck, with the cabin just astern of it. On the hull is painted a large number 1.

An aside:

Innsmouth Lightship No 01.

Betty Tilley pilots the 01. Keeping the shoals safe for shipping at low tides. She painted the ship in dazzle camouflage last winter, helps avoid unwanted attentions from the depths. If you know what I mean.

The Bishop and the Cleric add up the votes. Tomorrow the two young townsfolk and their families will be notified.

West of the Rock live the fisherfolk. To the East, the whalers.

The Bishop knocks on every door West of the Rock in Innsmouth tonight, tallying the nominations. East of the Rock, the Cleric does the same. They’ll meet at midnight to tally the numbers. Tomorrow the King and the Queen of the Ocean will be announced to the town.

The bell on the Black Reef rings loud tonight. The wind is up, and the heavens are hungry.

Dawn brings news of a wreck. Masts prick the shoals like needles in a cushion. Of the crew there is no sign.

Winter in New England. A hard time for a hardy people. The seas are high, the winds fierce.

Just seven nights remain until the Solstice. Time for the people of Innsmouth to nominate their candidates for King and Queen of the Oceans.

The Innsmouth Lights, three towers topped with lanterns, have protected the New England town of Innsmouth since 1642. Guaranteeing safe passage for vessels all year round, except on those peculiar days when the membrane between this world and others becomes thin and stretched.

I am Winthrop Nicholls, historian of the Massachusetts town of Innsmouth. I’m here to retell the story of the town, its people, and of its particular peculiarities. Forgive me if I stray from my course, the winds blow oddly around Innsmouth.