The Most Beautiful Ship in the World
[a ficlet inspired by the meeting between the Amerigo Vespucci and the USS Independence - read on Ao3 here]
1962, Mediterranean Sea
She saw the huge aircraft carrier approaching from afar. Leisurely slowing down to accost her, his mighty build unmistakable against the blue expanse of the calm sea.
Truth be told, she was used to it. Her catchy looks made more than one horn blow. Even ocean liners - notably a pretentious lot - used to give her the right of way and salute her with three loud honks of appreciation. It was meant to be a flattering gesture, and she used to gloat at it, back in the day; by now, she barely took note and moved on.
Now by her side – his untarnished hull giving away his young age – the carrier turned his light signal on, apparently determined to chat her up.
“Who are you?” He asked.
“Training ship Amerigo Vespucci,” she politely answered, “Italian Navy.” This should satisfy the boy’s curiosity enough, and hopefully establish that she was the one in familiar waters.
The other one signalled again.
“You are the most beautiful ship in the world.”
No crass whistling. Just a genuine compliment.
That was new.
“Oh, my.” She found herself faltering on her words. “Thank you.”
She reprised her course, not without a slight embarrassment at getting flustered that easily. The carrier though, not at all discouraged, gently matched her speed – no small feat for such an imposing, graceless craft.
“Don’t tell me you’re ditching me already,” he said in jest.
She glanced up at the fleet of fighter jets on his deck, their white, pointy tail fins glistening in the sun.
“Don’t you have anywhere important to be?”
“Not today. Waiting for the next NATO exercise. I’m the USS Independence, by the way… but you can call me Indy.”
Goodness gracious. Was he flirting, now?
“Well, Indy,” she countered, “before you get any funny ideas, let me ask you… how long have you been deployed?”
“Just three years.”
“Oh dear.”
A long moment of silence followed, interspersed by the lull of crashing waves and the squawking of seagulls. Now, she hadn’t meant to mortify him…
“But–” he added, with a remarkable presence of spirit, “I’ve served in Cuba and Puerto Rico already. Not entirely wet behind my ears, so to speak.”
“What I meant is… I’m not sure you realised, that I’m thirty years your senior.”
“You don’t show a day over fifteen, if I may say so.”
Let’s not tell him that her teak wood deck and her striped hull paint had been recently redone.
He accosted her some more, and from this near she noticed his sleek, functional outline against the sky. It wasn’t unpleasant in the least.
“You should know I’m an old-fashioned lady, and I’d rather do things the old-fashioned way.”
“No objections to that, Ma’am.” A cheerful plume of smoke blew from his funnel. “Getting to know you better will only be my pleasure.”
What with her line of work, she knew all too well the fervors and recklessness of young folks. Nonetheless, this one seemed to hold his conversation quite nicely, and to be resolute in his intentions. Which she could only appreciate, in accordance with her motto: “Not who begins, but who perseveres.”
“You know what, Indy? I love the Caribbean Sea this time of the year. And I might teach you a trick or two...”
And they sailed on, together. For how long, it is not known; but together they sailed, towards the setting sun.
~~~
(notes and tags under the cut)
What can I say in my defence? Apparently, anything that happens at sea strikes the romantic strings of my heart, and so here I am, anthropomorphizing and shipping... literal ships.
If you have any questions - how does that work? How do they communicate so efficiently or convey emotion? Why is she a she and he's a he? Why do they have genders, at all? Well, I do *not* have answers.
Life is short and nothing makes sense.
(tagging some people who seemed to like the first one; let me know if you'd like to be added or removed):
@helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @kettykika78 @missdeliadili @mydogwatson @amindamazed @prettyrealisticjohnlockfanart @otter-von-bismarck @johnsimms
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USS Independence (CVL-22), a light aircraft carrier of WWII, was one of the ships moored at Bikini Atoll during the atomic tests of Operation Crossroads. The first detonation, Test Able, was an airburst 500 metres away from Independence, and damaged her severely, but did not sink her.
The now-radioactive Independence was towed to the Farrallon Islands, near San Francisco, and used for radiological studies by the University of California Radiation Laboratory as the radiation decayed, until the decision was made to scuttle her in 1951, together with some contaminated materials transferred there.
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