John Reid and the Mermaid: A Wish Too Far?

Speaker A: 00:00:00

Welcome back to Bitesized Folklore, where we serve up strange tales in small portions, just enough to make your day a little weirder. Today's story comes from the north east of Scotland, where the sea meets the red cliffs of Cromarty.

It's a tale of sorrow and song, of promises made to the sea. And of a fisherman who asked for just a little too much. This is the legend of John Reed and the mermaid.

Long ago, there lived a young sailor named John Reid. He was tall and fair, with hands hardened by rope and salt. He came from a line of seafarers, each as stubborn as the tide.

And like so many of his kin, he'd lost more than one to the water's pool. John's own father had drowned in a storm off the coast when John was just a boy. Since that day, the sea had become both his comfort and his curse.

It was the thing that gave him purpose, but also the thing that could take it all away. Every year, on the first morning of May, John would rise before the sun and walk the cliffs beyond the town.

Some say that he went to gather May Dew, like the girls who believed it would keep them young and fair. But John went for another reason. He went to listen. To stand at the edge of the world and hear what the sea might whisper back.

And one May morning, the sea whispered something different. It began as a hum, soft, lilting, too pure to be just wind. Then a melody carrying over the foam.

A woman's voice singing words he didn't know in a language that was older than the tide. John followed the song along the shore, past the dropping cave where the cliff sweeps salt water into the sea.

And there, upon a rock dark with weed and spray, he saw her hair like spun gold trailing into the waves. Skin pale as foam, eyes the colour of green glass bottles. And from the waist down, a long silver tail, shining. It was a mermaid.

Or as the old folk called her, a ceasg. John knew the tales. Men who saw such creatures rarely lived to tell of it.

Some were dragged below, some blessed with fortune, others cursed forevermore. But grief can make a man bold. So John decided to step closer. Why do you sing, Sea Maid? He called.

The mermaid turned her gaze on him, smiling just enough to show the sharpness of her teeth. For those who listen, she said. And for those who need a song. Her voice was sweet, but her eyes, they were old. Older than the stones beneath his feet.

And yet, John wasn't scared. He didn't run. Instead, he cast a fishing net he'd slung over his shoulder and the Sea Maid was caught.

Let me go, she cried, thrashing in the net, and I'll grant thee three wishes. Now, John was no fool. He knew bargains with the sea really rarely ended well.

But he thought of his father and the way the waves had closed over him without mercy. He thought of his friends still sailing the cold northern waters, and he thought of the emptiness that waited for him at home.

So he nodded, and he said, my first wish is this, that neither I nor any I love shall ever drown in the sea. The mermaid's tail flicked, and a ring of foam circled them like a wreath. So be it, she said.

My second wish, john continued, is that every venture I take upon, the water shall prosper. The sea glittered, a sudden calm spreading over the bay. So be it, said the mermaid again. Then she asked, and the third?

John looked out over the horizon. There was someone he dreamt of often. Helen Stuart, the merchant's daughter, as kind as she was, far above his station. But that.

That was not a wish he dared to speak aloud. So he smiled faintly. The third, he said, is for me to keep. The mermaid tilted her head, eyes narrowing. Beware the wish you hide, sailor.

Secrets are heavy things in the sea. And with that, she tore free of the net, plunged into the deep, and she was gone.

John stood alone on the rocks, heart pounding under, unsure whether he'd made a bargain or a mistake. Days passed, then weeks. His voyages grew smooth, his catches were plentiful. His crew whispered that he was touched by luck itself.

And one evening, as he mended nets by the harbour, Helen Stuart appeared. She told him she'd had a dream of a sailor and a mermaid, of a song that called her name.

And when she looked into John's eyes, she swore she recognized him from it. They were married the following year, and for decades John prospered. Not a single sailor he knew was lost to the waves.

His ships came home full, his family thrived. But on every May morning, he still walked to the cliffs at dawn and listened.

Some say he heard her again before his death, the same voice, the same song, rising from the dropping cave.

Others claim his body was found there one morning, lying peacefully by the water's edge, a smile on his face, the sea calm around him, and the townsfolk said quietly that the mermaid had come to collect her final promise. After all, a debt to the sea is never truly paid. In Scottish folklore, the ceasg or the mermaid is both beautiful and perilous.

Catch her and she'll grant three wishes. But freedom, it comes with a price. She embodies the sea itself.

Generous when respected, merciless when taken for granted, John Reed's story reminds us of the oldest truth along the coast, that fortune and ruin share the same tide, that love can be both a blessing and allure, and that some songs are meant to be heard but not followed. Thank you so much for listening to bitesized Folklore.

If you enjoyed today's tale, share it with someone who loves a good sea story, or who's ever still at the shore and wondered what's waiting beneath those waves. Until next time, keep your feet on the sand, your heart on the land, and if you hear singing from the sea, listen, but don't answer back.