A Ship of Hope for Women
The Widow's Walk's Backstory: She didn’t know she couldn’t
by Deborah Whitaker
The Widow's Walk's Backstory: She didn’t know she couldn’t
by Deborah Whitaker
Painting by Gordon Johnson
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FADE IN: In a colorless sea, a lone wave surges and rams the bow of a mammoth clipper ship… water spills over the ship’s sharply tilted deck. From bow to stern, SAILORS clad in soaked oilskin suits scurry up the ratlines in a driving sleet. Aloft, more SAILORS cling to ice-coated yards and rigging. The Captain’s orders to the sailors are SHOUTED through a speaking trumpet from the quarter deck, barely discernible over the wind. The speaking trumpet is lowered and we SEE a commanding figure in an oilskin hat. Underneath the hat is the face of a woman, MARY ANN PATTEN; a woman foraging in a man’s world, a woman surging herself. |
Mary Ann Brown Patten
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The Widow's Walk by Deborah Whitaker (based on a true story) A love story between a genuine American heroine and American ingenuity. Boston's Mary Ann Patten was an American heroine every girl and young woman should know about, but few do. To this day, maritime experts assert that what Mary Patten did is next to impossible.
In 1856, nineteen and pregnant, Mary took command of a mammoth Clipper ship of 35 men, sailed through a hurricane, icebergs and a potential mutiny to safe port in San Francisco, all while nursing her dying husband, the Captain, back to health. She accomplished the impossible, because she didn't know she couldn't. |
In the late 1990’s, Captain Charles Quinlan, a sea Captain from Portsmouth New Hampshire, sought to build a replica of an American designed Clipper ship in East Boston, planning to use Mary’s speech to the crew that convinced them she could take command as part of an exhibit at the museum. More Clippers were built in Massachusetts than any other state, with the fastest – the Flying Cloud -- built by Donald McKay in East Boston. The Flying Cloud sailed from New York to San Francisco, traveling around Cape Horn, in a record breaking 89 days. With the California gold rush, the ships being built in Boston and throughout New England made it possible to travel from the east coast to the west coast in record time, bringing goods from all over the world, and helping turn San Francisco from a small fishing village to a thriving metropolis.
The Flying Cloud (painting by Antonio Jacobsen)
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When I first learned of Mary’s story, I was inspired to write her speech. At a time when women’s voices were barely acknowledged, what could a girl of 19 have said to convince a crew of men, many of whom spoke different languages, to trust her to take command? Deep down I sensed the answer. With my husband and two young daughters, I lived off the grid and the proverbial beaten path, seven miles into the New Hampshire woods, in a house we built ourselves from the pines in the back yard. The winters battered us. We had a mile long snow covered “driveway,” but every day the girls had to get to school, and I had to get to work three states away. Each week, I spent Tuesday through Thursday in Connecticut, working as a psychotherapist in private practice, helping others navigate their own storms.
Before writing a word of her speech, I was introduced (by phone) to a writer from Connecticut by the name of Dave Goetsch. At the time, Dave was living in LA and writing for Third Rock from the Sun (he’s now an Executive Producer with The Big Bang Theory). Dave thought Mary’s story would make a great screenplay, and recommended that I read Christopher Vogler’s The Writers Journey, which applies the late mythologist Joseph Campbell’s work on the hero’s journey to screenwriting. As a psychotherapist, I was already familiar with Joseph Campbell’s work, and ships were a back drop in my life. My ex-husband Chris was a maritime artist, and my office in Connecticut was literally right next door to Mystic Seaport. I could see the masts of the whaling ship, the Charles W. Morgan, from my office window, and two of my clients were ship builders who worked on the ship Amistad. Chris’ coffee table book American Maritime Paintings of John Stobart (his favorite painter) offered a luminous and meticulous portrayal of the era, helping me easily step back in time. |
Painting by Christopher S. Duncklee
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Mystic Seaport (painting by John Stobart)
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Outlining Mary's story, I was struck with how neatly Mary's story fit into the stages of the hero's journey. This was not a fictional portrayal of the journey, like Star Wars or The Little Mermaid, for example. Mary truly really lived the hero's journey. After reading the completed draft of my screenplay The Widow’s Walk, Captain Quinlan gave it a stamp of approval from a sailing and historical perspective, then cried right in front of me, especially moved by Mary’s speech to the crew: "I know many of you aren't sure what to make of me, a woman, in charge. I know most of you doubt I can lead this ship. But gentlemen, we have to get this ship around the Horn, and I have to get my husband and child home, safely. You see, lads, our enemy here, is not these winter gales, not Captain Patten's brain fever, not even the devil, who some of you believe has put a woman in charge of this ship. No. Our enemy, gentlemen, is doubt." - Mary Ann Patten in The Widow's Walk |
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After reading The Widow's Walk Dove Goetsch remarked that the script had "Oscar-winning dialogue for the right actress", and then referred the script to an agent at Creative Artists Agency. He considered taking it on, but told me point blank that he couldn't because I lived in New Hampshire.
A friend at the time knew a Vice President with the William Morris Agency who called the script "extremely well-written," but sent this feature film to the television division and to the very few cable channels that existed at the time. They all passed, as I knew they would. It was too expensive for television but, at the time, it was the only place to send a script with a female lead. A Connecticut production company (where Steven Spielberg's Amistad was filmed) offered to take an option on it, but I turned them down after my attorney said that in good conscience, she could not recommend going forward with this company, due to their overall dismissive attitude. One moment stands out. I asked the Director what he loved most about this epic story about an American heroine, and he replied "the ship." A few years later, I discovered the company's President used The Widow's Walk as an example of the kind of projects they attract. After reading The Widow’s Walk, a long time personal assistant to a former CEO of Marvel Studios declared “this movie must be made!,” then immediately warned me that the only way for it to be produced would be to find a powerful woman producer willing to fight for it. By this time, it was becoming clear to me that getting an expensive period piece with a female lead produced, especially as an unknown writer living outside of LA, was next to impossible. Of course, that was the Hollywood culture of the past, and thankfully, things are beginning to change. With its women's rights theme, and next year's 100th anniversary of the ratification of the 19th Amendment giving women the right to vote, The Widow’s Walk couldn't be timelier. |
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Yet when it comes to women in film, we still have a very long way to go. Since I began screenwriting in my 40's, I was never interested in "breaking into Hollywood." From the onset, my passion has been to write heroine journey films that reflect the best of who we can be as women. As a Psychotherapist and a Mother, my deepest intention with The Widow’s Walk has always been to inspire young women:
"What words could I possibly use to convey to women to give away their love, not their souls?" - Mary Ann Patten in The Widow's Walk To propel us into the future we desire, we all need to heed the lessons of the past; to learn from the women pioneers who came before us. The image etched upon young women's minds on the big screen of a petite and pregnant young woman of 19 shouting out orders from behind the helm of a 216 foot mammoth Clipper ship can remind young women of what they too are capable of. |
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Captain Quinlan never lived to see his dream to build the ship (to be called The Shining Sea, with a figurehead of Mary) come to fruition, and I’ve often wondered if I would endure the same fate with my dream for The Widow's Walk. I've been recently advised against admitting I wrote The Widow's Walk twenty years ago because a Producer might think that means the story isn't relevant or that there's something wrong with the script, since it has yet to be produced.
The inherent message in such “advice” is to give up. Either I’m too old, the script is, or both. I learned the hard way what it means to be an older woman in a youth obsessed culture, yet those years and all their tests and trials have proven invaluable. They gave me the experience, courage, and battle scars to help me realize I’m the producer I’ve been looking for all along. I wonder if Mary felt the same, looking around the ship for a Captain when no one else had a greater desire than her to find a way to sail that ship home. Her husband was dying, and she was going to have a baby. Like Mary, when I began my journey I was blissfully naive. Twenty years and several scripts later, I believe The Widow's Walk is still my best screenplay because back then, I didn't know I couldn't write a script of such caliber. |
Painting of Mary Patten figurehead by Armand LaMontagne
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"Mrs. Davis, in my first voyage, despite traveling the world and learning the science of navigation, inside, I was still a frail, scared little girl. Even reading the most profound books and traveling to foreign and glamorous lands could not bring me to myself. But, on this last voyage... I met the wind - one on one. It's a most formidable teacher. My only advice to another woman would be to go meet the wind in her own way, and then follow it. It bears the voice of her own God, and if she would only listen, it will tell her everything she needs to know. More than I ever could." - Mary Ann Patten in The Widow's Walk |
If others are to be truly inspired by Mary’s heroism, then the making of a film about her must come from the same attitude and approach. My becoming The Widow's Walk producer needn't be defined in a traditional way, but rather as taking the helm (ownership), like Mary did, to navigate the ship home, and working tirelessly beside a committed crew to do so. Obviously, I can't do it alone, nor would I want to. By our very nature, women are collaborative, yet the film industry is still patriarchal. It's competitive, hierarchical, and encourages exclusivity and elitism; slamming doors rather than opening them, especially for women. A recent study revealed that of the 1200 films produced in the last ten years, only 4% were directed by women, and according to the 2017 Celluloid Report, only 11 percent of the top-grossing 250 films of the year were written by women. A historical comparison of women’s employment in the top 250 films in 2017 and 1998 reveals that the percentages of writers has actually declined.
Twenty years after writing The Widow's Walk, the system is still deeply flawed and biased, and as such, the solution cannot be found in the same thinking that created the problem. With advances in technology, it's no longer about banging on closed doors to be a part of a broken system, it's about creating our own way, organically and locally grown. The Widow's Walk can provide the vehicle -- the ship -- to assemble in and create a different way of producing a high budget film.
Boston Harbor 1850's (painting by Fitz Henry Lane)
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And now I find myself giving my own kind of speech, to convince the New England film community "crew" that we can do this; we can form a solid, committed team, utilize the phenomenal resources in our own backyard and, with Yankee grit, produce a high caliber film. How? We begin by forming a film collective called Anima Rising to reflect its purpose: Anima [an-uh-muh] noun
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This collective is not for just anyone. It's a commitment that gives you the opportunity to offer your competency -- your unique gifts -- toward a cause close to your heart. However, this ship will not leave harbor until the course is strategically plotted out, and the right crew is trained and ready to weigh anchor up. Like sailing around Cape Horn, it sounds exciting and rewarding, but its 'taking ownership' approach means stepping on the hero's journey yourself. This film must represent what Mary accomplished by producing it in the same manner; with a collective of "ship mates" made up of courageous women and men who, like Mary, are willing to step into the unknown, learn, expand and own the journey all the way home, while lifting each other up in the process. Such a team would be made up of all generations, and unified by our experiences on the hero’s journey; slaying the dragons of our fears and limitations, and replacing it with the joy of bringing home the reward so that others may reap its benefits.
A former Commissioner of the Arts for the city of Boston once expressed to me how he wished he knew of Mary's story when they were deciding which Boston heroine to honor with a statue. An independent film produced by a community of New England filmmakers who share the heart and spirit of Mary’s story provides a vibrant and much more fitting tribute.
"I feel afloat, wielding the helm of an even greater ship than the one of my childhood imaginings, a ship of hope for women." - Mary Ann Patten in The Widow's Walk
A former Commissioner of the Arts for the city of Boston once expressed to me how he wished he knew of Mary's story when they were deciding which Boston heroine to honor with a statue. An independent film produced by a community of New England filmmakers who share the heart and spirit of Mary’s story provides a vibrant and much more fitting tribute.
"I feel afloat, wielding the helm of an even greater ship than the one of my childhood imaginings, a ship of hope for women." - Mary Ann Patten in The Widow's Walk