Dreaming the Future Into Reality

A wave crashed across the deck and the Captain hollered, "Grab that halyard. Release the line. Drop that sail."

"Brighten the lanterns. It's too dark to see."

The sun slipped below the horizon half an hour ago. Twilight still lit the sky but darkness was falling over the seas.

The wind screeched through the rigging. The ship leaned, heeling over until the siderail was buried under the water.

The ocean surged, bubbling and raging across the deck in the dim light.

"Hold on." Shouts called. The wind replied with a roar.

Voices yelled across the wooden sailing vessel’s deck.

"Captain Belanger...the lines are tangled...I can't get them to release that sail."

"Help...sailor down..."

"Eeeoooo." The three masts screamed and strained.

“WwhhhoooooooOOOOO.” The wind whistled and the sails snapped.

"Someone climb into the rigging before the masts break. Get the extra sails down." Captain Belanger’s voice bellowed. Another gust of wind hit the boat with a boom. The masts groaned.

"I'll do it."

The figure of the first mate leaned into wind, gasping.

"How can he go up there in this wind? In this darkness?" Another sailor spoke and scrambled across the wet deck, ankle deep in water.

"Someone needs to do it. We're going to perish if something is not done." The captain spoke.

"He is right. The captain knows." A third sailor held onto the wheelhouse frame with one hand and a lantern in the other hand.

A shadow scrambled across the deck toward the sailor who grasped the rope ladder to the rigging.

“Here, at least tie this line around your waist. If you go into the water we can reel you back to the boat.”

The sailor climbed onto the siderail of the vessel. He gripped the rope web ladder. It swayed in the air with the plunging of the ship.

“Check those bolts.” The captain’s voice was almost lost in the wind’s growl. "Is that ladder secured?"

“It is good. As long as the other end at the mast holds I’ll be alright.” The sailor clung to the wobbling rope ladder and climbed up it toward the mast.

“Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Booom.”

“Look out!” The cry from the deck was lost in the storm’s voice.

The foremast near the bow broke off halfway up. The sails and booms swung in the air.

The main mast, stronger and thicker, still held. The wiry, strong body of the sailor kept climbing the rope ladder toward the rigging.

“Whhomp.” The cracked foremast swung into the main mast. It splintered and collapsed toward the deck. Its square white canvas sails flipped and landed on the wheelhouse.

*****

Earlier that day, down in the supplies hold, a figure sat on the shaking timbers, scratching a picture in the wood.

The floor there tilted sideways with the waves. It rose and slid up and down with the ocean swells. The ship sang a rhythmic music of timbers creaking and waters slipping by on the other side of the wood.

In the depths of the wooden sailing vessel, the stowaway hid, and passed the time by drawing pictures of dreams in the dust on the hull's timbers.

"Grandma taught me this.

The hunched figure spoke in a whisper.

“When pirates boarded our boat in the harbor, I ran. This sailing vessel was nearby. I jumped onto it and hid. Now I need to get to the next port. Then get on another boat going back. I need to find our boat and see what happened.”

“Everyone must be so worried. I hope they are alright.”

Her eyes filled with water. A voice came into her mind. The sound of it was like a birdsong.

“Grandmother, is that you?”

A picture in her mind nodded. The woman’s lined face held sparkling eyes of beauty. Her wavy hair was as long as a robe.

“Wise One, Grandmother. Help me. What should I do?”

“You have the power of your imagination. Dream the future and call it.”

The young girl could still hear the clear, crystal tones of her grandmother’s voice, talking to her at their old hut in the mountains on the coast.

"Day and night are blending together. I cannot see the moon or sun from here. Reality and visions...images and feelings...I only know from these scratches I make in the wood how many moons have passed."

"Sometimes the cooks come here to get supplies. I am fortunate to be hiding near the dried foods and water barrels."

"So lonely. Only myself to listen to me. I must get back to my family."

The figure felt the ship shudder.

"There must be a storm. I hear wind howling. There are distant shouts from above on the deck. Something just made a loud crash."

Her heart beat faster and harder.

“Something is happening.”

She thought for a moment. “Grandmother would say to make a dream picture.”

"Imagine." She began drawing a smooth, quiet sea with a boat gliding over the water under a clear sky at night.

"I’ll dream away the storm." Then she began to hum. She picked up an old kitchen utencil and scraped in the wood of the hull.

She drew a crescent moon and a sprinkling of stars on the sky. It looked like someone tossed a handful of white salt crystals onto a dark robe.

“Here’s a smooth sea. Quiet waves. A light breeze.”

She drew wiggly lines.

“Grandmother always said I can use imagination to influence reality.” Her face relaxed. Her eyes were focused on the drawings. Her breath came slower.

“I feel like I am in another world when I do this, like a waking dream.”

"Hhhmmm. The ship is not rocking as much.

*****

Up on the deck, the seas calmed, the wind began to slow to a whisper, and the sailors sighed.

“We’re saved, this time.”

“Yes. Thanks to the captain for getting us through this.”

“We’ve lost the foremast but we can make it back to the coast with the mizzenmast and mainmast. Let’s clear away those fallen sails and the broken spar.”

Captain Belanger turned his eyes to the horizon.

“I’ve never seen it clear up so fast. It is as if something magical made it happen.”

*****

Across the seas, the young girl’s family gazed at the sea.

“We fought off those pirates. But where did the child go?”

A woman with a lined face, sparkling eyes, and hair like a long robe smiled.

“I see her in my mind’s eye. She is fine. On a ship heading to the next port to the north.”

A middle-aged sailor the girl’s father, said, “Let’s cast off the lines and go find her.”