Mariners
by
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“Sirens” It is evening on the beach near Cortez Ave. Cortez is a tiny road that begins at Seaside Ave (a road that runs parallel to the Pacific Ocean near Tijuana) and dead ends on the sand of Imperial Beach (California’s most southwesterly city). A young girl dressed in the Mediterranean style of the 1600s appears on the shore. She is Viola-the shipwrecked girl from Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night Viola: My story starts at sea... a perilous voyage to an unknown land... a shipwreck... the wild waters roar and heave... the brave vessel is dashed all to pieces, and all the helpless souls within her drowned... all save one... a lady... whose soul is greater than the ocean... and her spirit stronger than the sea's embrace... not for her a watery end, but a new life beginning on a stranger shore. It will be a love story... for she will be my heroine for all time. And her name... Viola. What country friends, is this? “Cortez” A young man in his early 30s enters onto the patio of the condos near the beach. He doesn’t Viola standing near. Marcus: Ah, Cortez! Brooke, come out on the patio. You've got to see these. Brook: In a minute Honey. I'm finishing up in here. Marcus: We've got time. You can't miss these. Brook: (bringing two drinks) What's the rush? We've all the time in the world. Marcus: Look, look. See those swells. There’s four-watch the third one. Brook: What am I looking for? Marcus: The curl. Brook: More surf lore? John told me you weren't very good. Marcus: That's not the point. Brook: What is honey? Marcus: I was there. I was here. I'm a Mariner. Brook: Please don't tell me that when we get there you are going to drink beer all night and brag about Cortez. Marcus: Here it comes. (They both watch the swell). Perfect. It's always the third. Brook: (looking at the view) It is beautiful. I thought you told me Imperial Beach was in a marsh. Marcus: It's a slough not a marsh. (Pointing) Look over there. See the salt-river and the reeds-what's left of them anyway. That's the Tijuana slough. Brook: Sounds disgusting. Marcus: Imperial Beach-"where the syph (short for syphilis) meets the surf". Brook: I hope you won't talk like that all night with your friends. Remember, I'm not from here and it's impolite to talk about inside jokes. Marcus: I'll try. But don't keep too tight a leash tonight. Brook: Marcus// Marcus: it's only one night. Brook: That I've been hearing about for a year. I don't even know your friends. Marcus: You know Larry. Brook: Larry. He visited one time// Marcus: he liked you// Brook: //in ten years// Marcus: I thought you hit it off// Brook: // ate all of my dried bananas and threw up on our carpet. That Larry!? Marcus: (deflecting) Look-another set. Brook: (She sees a light) What's that? Way out there. Marcus: The Coronado Islands. Nobody lives there-just a bunch of goats. Brook: I don't think that's an island.
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About the Book
Meet the Mariners, class of 1972, the year of Pink Floyd, UCLA Basketball and running grunions. Before cell phones, video games and Facebook, these Mariners came of age beachcombing the shore and surfing the tide of Cortez, a small patch of sand located in Imperial Beach, the southwesterly-most city in the United States.
It is 1992 and the class of 1972 is back to relive old memories and make new ones. Sabra and Marcus are back, unknowingly they are staying in adjoining rooms at the same beachside villa. Ronnie and Eva are here, but so is wife, Marla. She is from Florida and sinks in Pacific sand like a stone. Shana and Carl are back, but not together. Carl went for a swim one evening at Cortez and never came back. It wasn’t until three days later that Shana and the other Mariners learned of his drowning.
Like a modern day A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Mariner’s nature intrudes as the order that all of our individual dreams succumb. In the case of Cortez, the sea is personified by Ariel, an award winning sand mermaid. Like the sea, she brings answers. ”There’s a song from the sea. If you listen closely, you can hear the words-better here than there hodads-back to the sea where all things began.”
As it turns out the Mariners of 1972 return to the natural order of their lives, realizing that Cortez, the tiny patch of sand where they came of age, goes with them.
Viola: a shipwrecked girl (any age).
Marcus: a good looking ex surf-bum in his late thirties or early fourties, but looks younger because of the way he carries himself.
Brook: a displaced debutante in her early thirties.
Sabra: a gorgeous & fit beach girl in her late thirties.
Grey: an amicable Midwesterner who tries very hard to fit in (in his mid-40s).
Ariel: the Mermaid
Ron: Marcus’ high school friend. He is not as cool as Marcus, but his boyish traits make him charming; in his late 3thirties, but looks younger.
Marla: a displaced “Easterner” who is not conducive to the attitudes and morays of the west; in her early fourties but acts older.
Carl: another friend of Marcus; he is the boy from the sea. He drowned when he was eighteen, so his age and looks have been preserved.
Shana: ex cheerleader and very cute. She is in love with her memory of Carl. She is in her late thirties but looks much younger.
Eva: a beach girl and friend to Shana. Eva is one of the first women to surf big waves with the boys. She is in her late thiritess but looks younger.
About the Author
Drama professor Ernie Patterson is the playwright of ten plays and has been directing plays since 1975. Currently, he teaches film and theatre at Navarro College in Texas. Mr. Patterson received his master’s degree from Washington State University and a bachelor’s from Brigham Young University in theatre and cinema. “While working in a small theatre group, I quickly discovered that many of the plays offered through mainstream publishers did not fit our company’s needs, so I began to adapt the plays of Shakespeare and other classics into a postmodern genre to better fit our space and the size of our company. One day Mariners dawned on me. I was always told to write what you know. “The location of Mariners, Imperial Beach, is the town where I grew up. Back then (1960s), “I.B.”, as it was fondly referred to, was probably the only city on the Southern California coast that didn’t have a marina or beach front condos. We used to drive up a little dirt path called Cortez Avenue; this is where I came of age.”