Category: Sea Trials

Day _____, (___)

The sea has come for me.

I should have seen the signs, but I was too delirious from lack of sleep and battling the demon birds.  Now I’ve fled the ship, and with it the screeching and clawing and nightmares, and sailed into the maelstrom on the dinghy.  I can’t tell spindrift from the horizontal rain, both are driven by gale winds directly into my eyes, forcing them closed to a tight squint.  It’s a mercy really, there’s nothing to see but blue gray eternity all around.  I know there are rocks, and the eight foot swells would delight in dashing me upon them, but I can’t see them.  The sails have blessedly ripped free, slowing my breakneck pace somewhat.

We think we can tame the sea.  We think we can sail upon her in sunlit, carefree arrogance.  She is not to be so trifled with, and this is my reminder that I am but an insect.  Probably my last reminder.

It’s worth it to escape the birds.

Day 11 (0634 zulu)

In my opinion the captain steers badly.

Day 7 (1024 zulu)

Perfect sky, perfect water, perfect wind. There are butterflies everywhere just in case the vibrant green plants and rust red rocks weren’t pretty enough against the inky blue of the sea. I’m on top of a low mountain with nothing but peace and quiet and brunch in my immediate future.

We swam in from the boat to the beach. I’m not sure what the red flags were all about, but we used them as a marker to swim toward. There’s an old washed out sign that looks like it took a beating against the rocks then got nailed back up. Doesn’t seem to be the whole sign, though, it says “Dan Surf” and then “No ming”. Weird. The landing was a little rough…

Not really sleeping yet, but I bet I will soon. I’m starting to have these odd dreams though.

Day 37 (unsure)

I had the dream again. That’s not right, a dream means sleep, and I don’t know…

Maybe not a dream then, but other words are scarier, so I’ll say “dream”. Hallucination sounds so – irrevocable.

Three birds screech, constantly. At each other, at me, at nothing. The only time they’re silent, well, less noisy, is when they feed. They’re ravenous, seeking always anything to devour – so long as it means taking it from someone else. I’ve watched them turn away from offering made to appease them only to turn on one another all teeth and noise and fury.

I wake up with scratches, still with the alcohol on my breath that is my only means of escape. Am I dreaming then? Are these things happening? Please, it can’t be real, can’t…?

What if they are? What if the sun and blue sky and warm water are the dreams? What if days spent hauling lines until my hands are raw are my life and swimming with sea turtles and warming myself on the sand are my mind trying to keep me sane? I don’t know. I don’t want to know. The sun is coming up and lighting the clouds glorious shades of Heaven and whether I’m waking to it or lapsing from sanity I prefer this to the other.