Leviathan

Shhh… it’s a present for my sister. Don’t tell her, though. She will have to wait til we get to Cape Cod in July. If I have to enlist a grandchild to distract her, somehow I will manage to have it waiting on her bed at the rental house. We love whales for their intelligence, grace and the enormity that belies their calm, gentle demeanor. Besides the wild salty breeze, family time, treasure hunts at low tide along Corn Hill Beach, and seafood fresh-caught, our annual whale watch is a memorable thread in the fabric of our Cape Cod retreats. I can’t wait to see her expression!

I love making things for people. I quilt for weddings and baby showers, and part of the joy of creation is inspiration. Each pattern is designed, color scheme and fabric chosen for the intended person. I rarely make quilts for sale as the fabric cost and time involved in such a project would command a price tag far too dear. They are gifts of love.

This project, though, was, hands down, the most difficult, fiddly thing I have ever sewn. First there are those teensy dorsal fins along that long, undulant back; the three-foot pattern requires two score of pins to skewer it meticulously to the fabric. The instructions specifically warn against allowing the pattern to warp during pin up. And each point, curve and notch must be methodically snipped by precise scissor tips to preserve the shape of the whole or those points, curves and notches won’t match. (I do love the cool, substantial weight, the steely, imperative whisper of a wicked-sharp pair of scissors as they glide through the fabric. A good tool is a pleasure to wield.)

The sockets for those soulful eyes, like little pockets, are stitched together first before they are attached to the head. If you don’t sew, you may not know that those curves need to be pinned, right sides together, and carefully sewn in reverse. How they wriggle and pull at the pins til they’re stitched down tight! When you finally turn them right side out, they lay neat, smooth and flat and seem to be marveling, “Oh, we see; we understand now! And if you’re lucky (I’d like to say skillful, but despite my years of sewing, I still consider myself an apprentice), the eyes will match. They did.

Those curvy throat pleats were probably the hardest to sew. The throat pattern is cut as a mirrored pair. After cutting them out, two slender paper templates must be pinned to each precisely. With a pencil, long, wavy lines are traced lightly onto the fabric. When the templates are removed, a minuscule eighth-inch seam is pinned, right sides together, along that long, scrolling line and painstakingly - a quarter inch at a time - stitched. Once again, the fabric frets at the feel of the competing curves pinched in the weave. The first try didn’t fit to the body so I cut, traced and stitched another set. I almost gave up til I thought ahead to July and my sister’s smile.

Finally, a layer of quilt batting must be sandwiched between the top and bottom tail pieces before sewing the body together. Matching edges, curves, notches and points, all slightly raveled from handling, the pieces seam slowly into a whole with an opening in the belly for turning. Coaxing those mighty flukes through that slender tail opening is a Herculean task to both patience and sanity. But look at him! Isn’t he pretty? His name is Levi. Leviathan? Denim? Get it?

Would I make another one? Probably not. Unless, of course, someone I love asked me to.

(Pattern credit CraftyKooka on Etsy)