Sea Monsters? Pirates? Shipwrecks? Oh, MY! The Quiet Boat Ride by Sergio Ruzzier

Under a bright morning sky, Fox launches his little rowboat into the tranquil pond. But before he can row away, Chick appears, full of questions, as usual.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, FOX?"

"I'M GOING FOR A QUIET BOAT RIDE."

"CAN I COME, TOO?" ASKED CHICK.

"I GUESS IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE QUIET..." SAYS FOX, NOT WITHOUT REGRET.

And Fox is right about that. As soon as they shove off, Chick begins asking questions. Can he be captain? Are there sea monsters down there under the water? Are there scary pirates on this pond? What about shipwrecks?

"I DON'T KNOW, FOX. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUIET BOAT RIDE!" LAMENTS CHICK.

"A QUIET BOAT RIDE WAS MY PLAN!" MUTTERS FOX.

Fox reluctantly rows the boat to the shore, and as they disembark, Chick kisses the ground. Safe at last.

And as Fox ruefully remarks, no encounter is quiet with Chick around, in Sergio Ruzzier's latest super easy beginning chapter book, Fox and Chick: The Quiet Boat Ride and Other Stories (Chronicle Books, 2019).

In a classic example of the folklorish "noodle" tale, Chick is the perfect "noodlehead," and Fox is the unlikely and patient "straight man," who tries to bring the clueless little chick up to speed in three gentle stories in which Fox is forced to explain how things work to his inquisitive little buddy. In the second story, "The Chocolate Cake" and the third, "The Sunrise," there's a laugh on every page for both adults or older kids who share this book with younger children just beginning to read on their own. With a cogent little tale of innocence and caretaking told in comic book-format, four frames to the page, this latest from author-illustrator Sergio Ruzzier is a little gem. Ruzzier's other Fox and Chick stories and other picture books include Fox & Chick: The Party: Book 1 and Fox & Chick: The Sleepover: and Other Stories. (See reviews here:)

Time and Tide: The Old Boat by Jerome Pumphfrey

 

OFF A SMALL ISLAND, AN OLD BOAT RODE THE TIDE.

A young man and a little boy prepare their boat for a fishing trip, the boy with his dip net over his shoulder, while in the shallow waters around the sandbar, marine animals--sea turtles, an octopus, and various fish swim quietly.

Time and tides pass, as the boy grows, and the clear ocean waters become fouled with unnatural flotsam and jetsom--old tires, bottles, plastic forks, and jagged cans, and the sandy shores fill with houses.

FIRST SHALLOW... THEN DEEP.

Catching wants..., keeping wishes on shooting stars, and encountering waves, they ride with dolphins. The now old man and the boy, now grown up, even watch with wonder as a whale sounds nearby.

Now the boat takes the young man alone, sailing farther, far from home, and into a storm, alone and lost in the waves. His boat sinks, and he crawls ashore on his little island, now surrounded by a sea of trash.

It is time to turn that tide.

He fills his net with bottles and plastic cutlery and the paper cups kids collect and is soon followed by a crew of snorkelers in the shallows, and...

THEN DEEP.

And the old boat rests undersea, surrounded by living creatures.

In lovely double-page spreads, artist Jarrett Pomphrey's pastel faux naif illustrations bring his brother Jarrett's spare text to life, telling the story, too, in their place by the sea. The Old Boat (Norton Books, 2021) is a story for those who love boats and beaches and a living ocean, told in two generations of a family who love them, too. Says Kirkus, "A quiet, thought-provoking story of environmental change and the power humans have to slow it."

Share this one with its companion book, The Old Truck

Sink or Swim? How It Feels To Be A Boat by James Kwan

YOU ARE A BOAT.

Ahoy, ahoy!

Raise your crooked anchor and head out to sea, as your foghorn howls and barnacles tickle your bottom.

A trim little stern-wheeled steamer sets out from the harbor, sailing into calm seas, leaving a trail of buoyant bubbles behind, while below in its belly a seemingly harmonious crew and passengers do their thing.

The pastry chef turns out fragrant tasty treats, and the octopus engineer manages the mechanisms that make the ship move. A fine brass band booms out bouncy tunes, while diapered baby Daniel marches to the beat. The Superhero is on duty, waiting for the phone to summon him to soar to action, and a doting couple have eyes only for each other.

By your furnace-heart, Bill and June keep warm, painting each other's toes.

With everyone seemingly content down below, it's smooth sailing.

But sometimes they fight.

In fact, below deck a mutiny is brewing, with everyone wanting to set course for a different port. The chef is late for a birthday party she's catering. The superhero has had an emergency call for a caped crusader. Baby Daniel stomps and scowls, while the triangle makes the case for the band's Mothers Day gig elsewhere.

The wheel spins out of control as the ship approaches rocky shoals. CRASH!

Now, with their timbers shivered and the ship's heart broken, the mutineers find themselves marooned. If they unite, can they piece their little barque back together?

It's hard to steer a course with all that's going on down below, in James Kwan's How It Feels to Be a Boat (Houghton Mifflin Clarion, 2017).

Beneath the surface of a seemingly sweet story of "the little steamboat that could," sailing merrily on with a little help from his friends, Kwan's language and artwork signal further depths of meaning within his little parable.

Kwan's illustrations are not quite the sunny primary colors of Little Toot; his palette is done with subdued, muted colors, and his characters shown in fuzzy focus, his anchor is "crooked," his bow "tears" through the seas, and his below-deck passageways are "squirmy" and "twist" through the hull, all in language which seems a bit ominous, And in truth, his passengers' selfish quarrels subsequently sink the ship--all hints that there is a lot going on below the surface of this story.

Up top on the sunny surface, it's a cheery story of cooperation, but Kwan's doughty little boat is surely also a metaphor--for a human life, for the ship of state, for the planet, perhaps? After all, "AHOY" can be warning as well as a greeting, and having all hands pulling together can make the difference between sinking and swimming. There is plenty to see and plenty to muse over in this layered story of an unusual sea voyage.