When people give directions in Hawai'i, they often say something is either mauka (towards the mountain) or maka'i (towards the sea).
The sea I grew up with is a mere puddle compared to the Pacific. Most seas are, but the Baltic is particularly tiny: too shallow to have tides, with a salt content so low we get fish the Brits consider fresh-water species. Even so, I'm sure you can smell the briny sea any time you go to the market in downtown Helsinki. In the months when the sea isn't frozen over, anyway. I would have expected there to be a strong, noticable, continuous sea-smell off the Pacific, but for some reason, the smell isn't there, not all the time anyway. I went for a walk downtown Hilo yesterday, and I did smell the sea. It is my favourite smell.
Different seas sound different. I can't remember what the Irish Channel around Wales says, but the Mediterranean waves break to the rhythm of Greek music. Waves in the Gulf of Finland make a small, friendly sound, like this: lip-lap, lip-lap. That is also the Finnish word for what the waves say: liplattaa. The Pacific waves make a massive, slow sound, like one huge, mysterious word, an om. And the sand is black.
© 2006 Anna MR
3 comments:
liplaatta, that is a word you just want to say over and over . . .
ach, i see i can't even spell it, sorry!
Finnish is technically described as bastard hard, so a little spelling error is nothing, my dear. It *is* a grand word, though, isn't it, all onomatopoeic (sp?!)
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