Jack's smile grew just a touch broader at her wonder and her thanks, his real reward being just to watch her face light up in delight. He'd had a bit of a sense that Penny might be the sort to appreciate nature. Even if nothing else happened from that point on, even if she said she was tired and wanted to have a lie down or even had another date to go on, Jack would could this date as being successful. 

"Glad you like it," he admitted a little sheepishly. "I were in a bit of a hobble about it. Mind you, after dis don't know rightly how t' top it!"

That was actually a bit of a lie. There were plenty of other places that were just as amazing in his opinion, or at least near enough to it that it made no difference, it was just that this place was his favorite. 

Jack had no idea what sort of sea life might exist in New Canaan nor how those creatures they carried with them now would fit in to the strange ecosystem if at all! There was one place though that he loved above all others, one place he had deeply missed after his family had moved to Wyoming - the sea. The ship's central water supply and aquatic wasn't perfect. Not by a long shot! The smell wasn't quite right, for one thing. The air, while moist and baited with the aroma of fish, felt too still and stifled, not at all like the roaring winds or gentle breezes that had pushed his catboat along the coast. No sea salt spray splashed in his face and made him grin madly as the boat skipped over the waves. There was no rocky shore or pier for him to stand upon, no place here where Jack could close his eyes and listen to the sounds of the waves, wind, gulls, and harbor buoys. It was, however, the closest thing he could get to that gave him anywhere near the same feeling of being home. And for that, he would treasure it always as they journeyed to their new home.

He watched a number of cod flash by. Jack grinned at them like they were old friends passing by before he glanced back over at Penny. "You know? Soon as I sees you in dat kitchen, I t'tinks to m'self, Jack? Jack, I says. Dis woman here, being you, is some gear, b'y. An' if you don't ask her out, den yar're stunned something fierce. An' if you don't ask her what it is she likes t' put a hand to, or w'er' or not she likes cloggin' or scuffin', or who knits her, or if likes de fall of de year better dan de frost 'n' snow? Den you might as well been born on a raft, Jack, m'lad."

Very gently, surprisingly gently for a man with such calloused fingers and palms, Jack reached out with one hand and touched the back of Penny's own. It was just a brush, the lightest of touches. There was no denying, however, that he was asking for permission to hold her hand. "So you tells me all 'bout you, Duck... an' I'll shame the devil an' tells you 'bout me... 'n' maybe 'tween de jigs 'n' de reels we learn sumptin' new. Fair gunshot still to New Canaan, after all. Worse ways t' spend it den wit' a pretty face like you, I s'pose, b'y. Best kind, really."