How can you explain odd accounts of people lost in empty seas or deserts? Pirates, aliens, fungus fumes, time shift. We measure days from sunrise to sunset, but what if a day could last a week and night even longer. That endless hunger could be confused with not understanding that you have been awake for days. Those blackouts are you needing to sleep. Even though the sun has not set. Following a map we have made assumptions with map making and in doing so we have miss calculated land as.
The ship hits rough seas and you are thrown into a dingy, knocked unconscious and wake to the sun beating down on your skin. Covering your face with our hands, wriggling like a worm unable to get up feeling the weight of a head ache, dehydration. The motion of the small waves making you want to hurl. You lean over the side of the dingy and vomit into the sea. Watching as it speeds and drifts away from the dingy. The sun is so bright up cant think with it beating down on you. You find canvas sail crumbled up off to the side of you can you shade your self with it and fall back into a deep sleep. When you wake it is night. Cold, and there is a million stairs lighting up the sky, you can feel your puples exapand to welcome in the light of long dead stars.
There is nothing around reflections on the water. I try to think of where I was and make the connection, I was aboard a ship it was taking me home, after some travels in another city, I paid my way to get on beard a ship, a bit of extra cash on a cargo ship is always welcomed by a sea captain. Set up a hammock and open a pile of food and drink and just rock myself to sleep for a month. This was my plan on the way home after a jorney though the hills of a unexplored land, this is what holidays are for. 1887 – two years from now I would be turning 30. And I had only explored a small fraction of the world, and yet the travels are what my mind holds onto. There is something about travelling.
I am brought back to the cool night, where I sit leaning on the edge of the dingy over the water looking off into the endless stars and sea. As I am gently rocked my the waves. I wrap the cavas around me to keep warm. And lay down looking up at the stars, wanting to sleep. I drift.
I dream of ships all around as I guide on this dingy in-between them, I wave hello to the many faces looking over board at me, I can feel the cool of the shadows of the big ships as I drift in and out of sunlight, the cool breeze on my burnt skin. Big wooden ships. I feel secure as though I am paddling around ships in the port. The dream twist and turns and I find the water draining away and these ships becoming stuck as I drift around them, I can see the bottom of the sea clearly and the sea creatures gliding around, sting rays, angle fish, corral, the white sand that has never seen the light of day suddenly bleached. I put my hand in the water and move it about. I could easily dive in and swim amongst the sea creatures. These thoughts were suddenly shifted as the dingy was rocked by a heavy wave. And I am brought back to the reality of the situation. I was adrift with no land or help in sight, and the cool night chilled me to the bone, the only saving grace was the canvas that I cover myself with to protect myself from the harsh winds and heavy rain.
It is my thoughts that guide this ship now. I am reminded this from life experiences of being adrift, there was a summer when I had left school and had not found work where I fell into despair and found myself adrift for seven months. That is a long time to sit in uncertainty. I am surrounded by everything that led me to this point in my life and I think of others comparing my grim reality to those whom could sit a bit more still could live a bit more simple and bland. Who could say yes to bullshit. I saw there as being more to life and I wanted to find some of it out. If only I could sit still I would be at a house with a wife, safe with only the approach of Monday and work to get me down. This tame existence I was to courious not to walk beyond.
I see land, not close but there is a break in the endless sea. With my hands I attempt to paddle the boat towards it. And end in sight. A beautiful shape, pieceing the endless sky and sea. a dark blue smudge on my 360 degree vison. I paddle ever so slowly towards the vision smudge and after a day and a half of heading slowly in that direction it begins to take shape, I can see trees and sand and hills, the green and white with a fog hovering over it. Excitement. I am tired. But day and night I paddle towards it. The depths of the dark blue ocean begins to shallow as I can start to make out sand below 6 meters deep, coral and fish. I paddle as this stretch of sand come up to meet me. The coral shows its colours as I glide over almost able to touch them. I look towards the shaw and up at the vast expanse of the land. As the dingly hits the beach. I shackly step out and fall into the water, with all my strench I pull the dingy further onto the sand and I lay back and breath.