The boats and ships in the story represent the characters’ hope and the potential to build a new life in a new country. Each of the three protagonists and their families take a journey by boat. For Josef, the St. Louis gives its Jewish passengers hope that they can escape Nazi Germany and find refuge in Cuba. Even though they are eventually turned back to Europe, they are still able to be resettled in new countries so that they can attempt to avoid death at the hands of the Nazis. For Isabel, the boat that she and her family take is the only option for them to escape Cuba, and the boat both literally and figuratively keeps their hopes afloat as they journey to Miami. Although a hole in the boat and a severe storm flood the boat with water, dashing their hopes and putting their lives at risk, Isabel and her companions work tirelessly to bail the water out and continue on their journey. This simple act of perseverance to save their boat embodies all of the uncontrollable obstacles they must overcome to reach the U.S. Mahmoud also takes a journey by boat from Turkey to Greece, and when his boat capsizes and he is thrown into the water, it reinforces the idea that he has lost all hope. But when another dinghy comes along and Mahmoud is able to convince the people on board to take his infant sister, Hana, it provides another spark of hope, given that this is likely Hana’s only chance to survive at all, let alone to achieve a better life. The boats in the story are continuously placed in contrast with the ocean, which often correlates to the characters’ despair.
Boats Quotes in Refugee
“Jewish rats,” Schiendick said, sneering at Josef and the other kids. Many of them looked at their shoes, and even Josef looked away, trying not to draw the big man’s attention. Josef clenched his fists, and his ears burned hot with frustration and embarrassment at his helplessness.
She had never been able to count clave, but she had always assumed it would come to her eventually. That the rhythm of her homeland would one day whisper its secrets to her soul. But would she ever hear it now? Like trading her trumpet, had she swapped the one thing that was really hers—her music—for the chance to keep her family together?
Mahmoud screamed.
He howled louder than a fighter jet, and his parents didn’t even tell him to hush. Lights came on in houses nearby, and curtains ruffled as people looked out at the noise. Mahmoud’s mother broke down in tears, and his father let the life jackets he carried drop to the ground.
The smuggler had just told them their boat wasn’t leaving tonight.
Again.
“No boat today. Tomorrow. Tomorrow,” he’d told Mahmoud’s father.
“Please!” Mahmoud cried. He sobbed with the effort of fighting off the man’s fingers and hanging onto the dinghy. “Please, take us with you!”
“No! No room!”
“At least take my sister!” Mahmoud begged. “She’s a baby. She won’t take up any room!”
The vacationers dropped their voices, and even though Mahmoud couldn’t understand what they were saying, he could hear the disgust in their words. This wasn’t what the tourists had paid for. They were supposed to be on holiday, seeing ancient ruins and beautiful Greek beaches, not stepping over filthy, praying refugees.
They only see us when we do something they don’t want us to do, Mahmoud realized.
“Don’t you see?” Lito said. “The Jewish people on the ship were seeking asylum, just like us. They needed a place to hide from Hitler. From the Nazis. Mañana, we told them. We’ll let you in mañana. But we never did.” Lito was crying now, distraught. “We sent them back to Europe and Hitler and the Holocaust. Back to their deaths. How many of them died because we turned them away? Because I was just doing my job?”