Lady Parker observed to Elisabeth as the Swallow moved swiftly through the waves their second day in Lyme. “It is quite different than taking passage upon an East Indiaman. One feels so very close to the elements.” “Yes, there is nothing to compare to it,” Mary Shelley concurred. Brisk breezes had greeted the sailing party on their second day out. To Elisabeth’s great relief, although Mrs. Shelley was again disturbed by a slight illness that morning, it was not great enough that it prevented her joining the others on the sloop. Elisabeth wished to avoid any occasions alone with Shelley and the presence of six persons on the small thirty-five-foot yacht ensured her wish would be granted. Molly, who did not wish to experience another day of seasickness, had chosen to remain behind. As she gazed out over the bay, Elisabeth could not credit how she had come to allow the poet to take such liberties the previous day. Yet at the time it had not felt so much a dalliance as a spiritual meeting of two like souls united in their love of the sea.
