Sea Maiden 15 Olivia by Robert Kline
Sea Maiden 15 Olivia
Mermaid art and story by Robert Kline
This is a retired Sea Maiden art print that is very limited in supply and therefore currently available for purchase in the following matted sizes: 11″ x 14″.
This beautiful mermaid art print and story are from a collection of Sea Maidens (mermaids), Sea Babies (mermaid babies), Sea Masters (merman), pirates, lighthouses and fairies created by renowned artist and novelist Robert Kline of St. Augustine, Florida. The print is a lithograph reproduction of Robert’s original watercolor and pencil painting. Hand labeled and signed by Robert in pencil, all the prints come with a 1/4″ foam backing and the 5″ x 7″, 8″ x 10″, 11″ x 14″ are matted so all you need is a frame and they are ready to hang on your wall! Each print also comes with an excerpt from Robert’s novel The Forgotten Voyage of H.M.S. Baci. A fantastic saga in which multiple generations of the Roberts’ family explore the seven seas in search of the world’s mermaid and merman population. Thus, you receive the passage from Robert’s novel describing the particular event in which the character(s) in the print were sighted. The following is the excerpt written for the Sea Maiden 15 Olivia print:
Captain Constance Daphne, Gnarly Dan and Sir Edmund Roberts, gentleman naturalist and Sea Maiden quester, remained trapped in their diving bell, the good ship Baci and her mutinous crew having sailed away. The fates did however present the three with a series of entertaining diversions, they being an abundance of Sea Master and Sea Maiden sightings. The last pair, a maiden and master (an ironic naming) were still within sight, their initial languorous dance at last approaching romantic fruition as the Sea Maiden allowed her Sea Master to use his body as he would – resulting in another painting in Sir Edmund Roberts’ infamous “blue notebook” series.
Constance Daphne Fitzwillie sat enthralled at the bells window while Gnarly Dan and Sir Edmund’s fascination lay in the crooked paths of perspiration traced down their captain’s exposed chest. So at first no one was aware that a different Sea Maiden had hove into view, the invisible tidal pull moving her ever closer, her tail nearly motionless, her arms weaving a poetic ballet in the clear warm water. And of course it was Gnarly Dan who first noticed and commented, “Lord above, ain’t she asleep and awash in dreams.”
Constance Daphne shifted her attention to the maiden. Sir Edmund glanced several times away from his captain’s captivating body each time with longer interludes; for the Sea Maiden, drifting closer, was beautiful beyond words, her eyes closed and her body arched seductively.
It was now gnarly Dan who leaned to the port hole. He gasped audibly, put his hand to his heart and murmured, “If I warn’t sober as a priest, I’d swear she be my first wife, Olivia.” Both Constance Daphne and Sir Edmund looked to the old man to see if they had heard him correctly and if perhaps he was speaking in jest, but Gnarly Dan was far from humor. He had spent his life before the mast and each sea mile had left its mark. Murderous gales, pirates, and privateers, hard rolls and bully beef had made him one with the tar and oak and iron. But all of that fell away as a profound sadness slathered with the remorse of lost love and squandered youth shone from his eyes. “Warn’t I the fool,” he whispered.
Uncomfortable with such bald emotion, Sir Edmund asked, “Now how can you be so certain she’s dreaming? Perhaps her sleep is unencumbered.” Constance Daphne watched the exchange. Heretofore it was Sir Edmund annoyed with Gnarly Dan, but now it was the old salt who replied with condescension: “And were ya born last night, sir? All them books don’t tell all, now do they? Of course she’s dreaming; any gob can see that.” Sir Edmund let the assault on class-induced distance pass unremarked. Gnarly Dan shifted his tone to one of addressing a child. “Can’t ya see her arms, gov, how she’s a-movin’ them? When they sleeps they dreams and when they dreams they moves their arms about all graceful-like.” As if to refute the old man, the Sea Maiden’s arms hovered for a moment and coincidentally she began to slip slightly down-ward toward the ocean floor, whereupon that movement seemed to trigger her arms’ silent weaving once more. Sir Edmund cataloged it all with his naturalist eye, had a burst of cause and effect logic and retorted, “Not dreams, my good man, negative buoyancy; she must move her arms, or her tail for that matter, or sink! Nothing to do with her mind!”
Gnarly Dan listened quietly but would have none of it. In fact his sad disdain grew. “You have the book larnin’ sir, ‘tis true; never met a gent so full of the thoughts o’ others. But beggin’ yer pardon sir, there be such a fish as a foolish one.” He paused and watched the Sea Maiden’s beautiful movements, lost once more in the memories of his youth and finally concluded with new patient, “Yer Sea Maiden ain’t so different from us cap; without dreams we all sink. He waited to see if Sir Edmund understood and when he saw no comprehension, added, “Though some don’t know they’re sinkin’ and others can tell they’s already sunk.
An apt remark for the three submerged in Halley’s patented diving apparatus. Captain Constance Daphne ended the subsequent silence by ordering the last cask of air brought under the bell and upended, thus turning their attention to their current plight. Sir Edmund’s naturalist’s notebook comments:
The bad luck of our imprisonment was mitigated by Sea Maiden and master sightings but made worse by Gnarly Dan’s prattle. How I wish he would drown. Our 15th Sea Maiden is glorious.
Maidenus Languidus, “Olivia”
Average weight, stunning coloration, long dark tail.
April 12, 1833, Protected harbor of San Carlos, (still!) Island of Chiloe
