Beyond the Bright Sea

“When I did that and everything began to unravel, a seam opened up and let in some light, which helped me see my life more clearly, but also made me want to close my eyes, sometimes, instead.” 

Crow foreshadows the discoveries she will make regarding her origins, her biological family, and the fears residents of Cuttyhunk have that she is a possible leper. The passage reflects the dual nature of these discoveries: They will lead her to finally learn who her parents were, why she was cast away as an infant, and that she has a living brother; but they will invite Kendall and other risks into her life. Crow’s metaphor reflects this: Light can illuminate and blind. 

“It never occurred to me, as I watched them search, that I would be the one to find the treasure they sought. Or that I would find it in a place where none of them would ever have dared to look.”

The novel undercuts any suspense about whether Crow will find the physical treasure, but it holds back revealing the story of Crow’s family. This implies that the monetary treasure she finds is less valuable than the insights she gains about her past and family. 

“And for some time, the sack I carried felt lighter. Sometimes I even forgot that I was carrying it. But it felt, by now, like a part of me, and I found that I couldn’t put it aside. Not completely.” 

The knowledge that she may have come from the leper colony on Penikese feels like carrying a heavy sack to Crow—a likely metaphor for a girl growing up in a place that requires a lot of physical labor. Nevertheless, the passage emphasizes how motivated she is to intently pursue clues about her past. 

“I tried hard to do what Osh wanted—not to care where I’d come from—but I knew more about where he had come from than where I had, and that didn’t seem right. It made me feel too light, as if I were anchored by a different kind of gravity than other people.” 

Crow’s curiosity about her background comes from a desire for a sense of belonging. She complains that she knows more about Osh’s mysterious background than her own, which makes her feel weightless, ungrounded—something she attributes to a different kind of gravity, an image that connects her to birds and flight. 

“I didn’t talk because I had nothing to say. And there was no one to listen.” 

Osh’s reply to Crow’s question about his silence when he first arrived on their island is characteristically straightforward. Osh did not speak until Crow arrived on his island, suggesting her importance in his life: She gives him something to say and is someone who listens. 

“‘You’re still a young girl,’ he said. ‘Not too old to be taken away.’ He looked at his hands. ‘Or to go because you wanted to be somewhere better than a shack on a rock in the middle of nowhere.’” 

Crow is vulnerable because she is an orphan and Osh fears that she will leave or be taken from him. Despite Osh’s misgivings, he shares the one detail about Crow’s past he has (the half-destroyed letter), strengthening their relationship by showing her that he believes in her love for him and their found family.

“Osh shook his head over the whole business. ‘What you do is who you are,’ he said. I knew he was right but I asked him, anyway, ‘And what if you were one thing and became another?’ He nodded. ‘I was,’ he said. ‘I did.’” 

Osh grows to accept Crow’s desire to connect with her past. He repeatedly offers words of wisdom and support to Crow, often when she needs them most. Here, he responds to her anxieties while awaiting a reply from Dr. Eastman. While Crow worries that her identity and connections to her origins have been irrevocably lost, Osh normalizes the idea of encountering change in life. 

“I felt surprisingly, astoundingly doubtful about such a conclusion. Afraid to believe it. And something more: reluctant to believe it. Almost…disappointed.” 

After the excitement and anxiety of waiting for a reply from Eastman, Crow is surprised to be disappointed to find out that, according to Eastman, she is not from Penikese, formerly the site of a leper colony. She becomes aware of just how strong her yearning for belonging and details about her past is. As a result, she becomes more sympathetic to Penikese.

“‘Sometimes,’ he said slowly, ‘people know things. They don’t learn them. They don’t figure them out. They don’t discover them. They know them. And it doesn’t matter what anyone else has to say about it.’” 

Osh’s is confident in Crow’s abilities; when she doubts she will find the truth about her biological family, he encourages her to be patient. Placating her fears, Osh suggests introspection and finding answers within. His unshaken belief in his adopted daughter frequently buoys her.

“It was a code we lived by, and I respected that, but I confess that I found it odd how the same people who followed these unwritten rules sometimes ignored the ones spelled out in their sacred pages.” 

As Crow and Osh bide their time pulling lobster traps while waiting for the opportunity to go back to Penikese, she marvels at how honest the islanders are, never stealing from each other’s traps. At the same time, this mutual respect doesn’t translate to outsiders. The residents of Cuttyhunk refuse to let Crow go to their school or even to touch her mail. Their mistreatment of Crow contradicts the guidelines for charity and kindness laid out in their religious texts.

“I did not know what I was leaving behind, still undiscovered. Or what else was waiting, across the water, on the mainland.” 

On her second visit to the Penikese, Crow rescues Sloan and explores the island’s remaining cottages. There, she finds carvings of a lamb and a feather. She connects these symbols to corresponding words in the letter attached to her when Osh found her. This passage emphasizes that there is still much for her to learn: Both the physical treasure and the fact of her brother Jason remain undiscovered.

“‘Am I not real?’ he said. I didn’t understand what he was saying until I realized what I myself had said. ‘Osh, you are the most real thing in the world.’ ‘But I’m not your father,’ he said. ‘Of course you are,’ I said. ‘But you’re not my only father. And you’re not my mother.’” 

In one of the most poignant moments of Beyond the Bright Sea, Osh reveals how important his role as Crow’s adoptive father is to him. Hurt when Crow figures out who her birth parents are, Osh is touched when Crow reaffirms how vital he is to her and explicitly calls him her father. Crow assures Osh that their relationship is invaluable. 

“Things are usually better when you don’t mess with them too much.” 

Eating one of their characteristically simple but nourishing meals, Crow compliments the food and Osh’s cooking. Osh brushes this off, suggesting the virtues of keeping meals simple. The larger symbolism of his response is clear in how Osh handles Crow’s adamant search for her family. Osh’s restraint and reflection balances her enthusiasm.

“It’s just that we all gave up hope of ever finding a family for Jason. And now a family has come to find him.” 

Crow’s visit to Mrs. Pelham is fruitful. Crow learns about her brother Jason, and Mrs. Pelham’s enthusiastic response to learning who Crow is and why she has come to New Bedford shows how much she cared for Jason. Mrs. Pelham is now Crow’s closest connection to her birth family, so the welcoming and acceptance she receives from Mrs. Pelham bolster Crow. 

“‘What about other birds? Doesn’t a high-up nest make it easier for a hawk to get a baby crow?’ Osh shrugged. ‘they have to build their nest somewhere.’ ‘And what’s the point of building it high up anyway if the babies fall and break their necks when they try to fly?’ Osh shook his head. ‘They don’t try until they’re ready.’” 

This seemingly mundane conversation between Crow and Osh about a bird’s nest they see high up in a tree is loaded with symbolism. This nest of her namesake reflects Crow’s growing independence: She is on the cusp of maturing into young adulthood and fledging her nest. 

“‘I’m beginning to think we should start over again,’ he said. ‘I’ll call you Morgan from now on. And you can call me something else, too. Something better than Osh.’” 

In one of the novel’s most emotional episodes, Crow’s letter from Miss Evelyn Morgan about her birth and origins upsets Osh, Maggie, and Crow. As they reconcile, Osh suggests they all shift their names and identities with a mixture of sarcasm and dejection. All three characters go through a major transition and rebirth; though they keep their names, they emerge as a stronger, more tight-knit whole. 

“I wanted fiercely for them to go, but not because of the treasure. These were the same clean people who would never have stepped foot on Penikese otherwise. Certainly not to bring soup to the lepers there. Or blankets. Or prayers when they died. And I waited, impatiently, for them to be gone.” 

Crow initially feared the idea of coming from Penikese, but as her awareness of her roots grows, she becomes attached to it. In her mind, Penikese becomes the place where she was born, the place where her parents were from, and her connection to a community. Thus, the treasure hunters on the island, who remind her of those who had shunned the colony in the past, incense her. 

“But the fear that had for years kept the treasure hunters away from Penikese persisted enough to keep them away from the graveyard where the lepers were buried, my parents among them, and I was grateful for that fear. It had kept this small plot of land safe.” 

Treasure hunters stay away from the graveyard site for fear that they might still catch leprosy from those who are buried there. Given Crow’s personal connection to Penikese, she is relieved to see that the graveyard has not been disturbed, not because she wants the treasure, but because she seeks any tangible connection to her family that remains. 

“People don’t want much until they have plenty, and then they want more and more.” 

Crow is filled with awe at having found the treasure. True to his character, Osh cautions Crow not to let the discovery corrupt her. His warning is advice on a broader level, urging Crow have patience about finding her brother. Shortly after this passage, he tells Crow he accepts her for who she is, and that she already has what she needs right around her. 

“As I walked, I repeated what I’d said to Osh—‘Nothing bad will happen’—and I believed it. But believing something doesn’t always make it so.” 

When hiding a portion of the treasure at Maggie’s, aware that Kendall likely knows she has it, Crow attempts to calm herself. But Kendall soon arrives on Osh’s island, where he ransacks their cottage. Believing has not made him go away; nor will believing that Quincy is Jason make him Crow’s brother. 

“I’d never hated anyone before. And I’d never felt so small.”

Despite what Crow has endured—including being orphaned, shunned by the Cuttyhunk townsfolk, refused entry into school, and more—she continues to be ruled by a good heart. The tipping point for her, however, is Kendall. As a direct threat to what she holds most dear (her surrogate father and one of the only tangible links to her biological family that she has), Kendall ignites Crow’s rage and fear. 

“Because some rich woman will end up with them and she’ll feel like a queen, even though they came from Penikese where she never would have stepped foot. Or sent peaches in the summer. Or figs in the winter. Or soft blankets. Or anything.” 

Crow cannot stand the idea of someone else ending up with the treasure if Kendall’s arrest leads to its public discovery. The pieces she selected and put in the coffee tin were personal favorites, and thus individualized mementos of her connection to her family. She resents the idea that someone who had never cared before about Penikese or the leper colony could get the treasure. 

“I didn’t care one bit about the treasure, not anymore, not who touched it, not who took it, except that I did. I did. Because of the fist that held me like I was the beast, like I was the one who needed a bit in my teeth, this man, this bully who had come out of nowhere to hurt us.” 

As Kendall drags Crow away, demanding she take him to the treasure, her feelings about the treasure shift. She realizes that the material items are less important than stopping the man who could hurt her loved ones. The figurative language in the passage, which compares Crow to a beast of burden, abused and angry, emphasizes the depth of Crow’s uncharacteristic fury.