Mystics, Mythical Tavern

Mystics, Mythical Tavern

“Captain Hook, Peter Pan, Jack, and his magic beans, all legendary, yes! but what about Captain Monsieur Sebastian?”

“You will have to excuse my ignorance about mythical figures who are ranked in the annals of mystic persuasions, by those who know I assume, but I have never heard of a Captain Sebastian. If you would be so good as to enlighten me, I’d be most appreciative.”

“If you have never heard of Monsieur Sebastian, I can’t help but wonder which pumpkin patch you are from. I assume you’ve heard of John Sebastian; the Lovin Spoonful’s.  Sebastian Cabot, I forget what he’s famous for exactly, something to do with acting I believe, and hundreds more Sebastian’s.  But you see my point. The name didn’t just get passed down because if rolled eloquently off the tongue.”

“I would find it most rewarding if you would tell me the tale of Sebastian, whoever. I love a good tale, especially about someone I’ve never heard of. Please, blow up my balloon!”

“If you insist. I normally don’t engage in trite accountings of other’s sorted pasts, but I believe it is time this mans achievements were rightly inscribed on the pedestal of time, where they belong.

His story began long ago. It was relayed to me by my mentor of all things history, Bertrand Russell. Not Thee Bertrand Russell, but Bertrand Russell, the psychoanalyst at Three Heavens Rejuvenation Facility. 

He stated that because of the lack of competence in that time, I’m referring to written documentation, as only verbal allegories carried accounts of adventures from one sorted shore to another. It was during the time of rogue sea captains, belligerent whales, giant squid, and people who walked into the wilderness alone, only to die as their last chance of warmth was snuffed out by the gravitational pull, on snow.”

“I assume you are referring to Jack London. That I believe was in a different time period and place.”

“Please, don’t interject. Having given hundreds of lectures on the subject of mythical figures who would have become famous had it not been for what we refer to now as a simple twist of fate, I must confess, this is another in that realm. But I must remain focused.  It is fate, and I suppose the twist also, that either makes or breaks a mythical figure. It was certainly the case with Monsieur Sebastian. 

We tend to forget, as it is often easier than remembering, that back in the day of Sebastian, the majority of the people believed the world to be similar to the Pita bread of the time. It was assumed that if you left the safety of land, or the view of it, you challenged the Sea Gods, Poseidon specifically, and you were fated for oblivion.  And no one, but possibly the town crier, who they all believed had a substance abuse problem, knew that you would fall off the edge as assuredly as an apple falls from a tree. 

Even Jiminy Cricket knew that an illusion was worth more than the wooden reality that wouldn’t accept his lot in life. But if you'll excuse me, that didn’t come till much later.

 It wasn’t until Christopher Columbus tripped over the rum barrel, hitting his head, and having to turn over the duties of the ship to Monsieur Sebastian, the only French sailor to ever be admitted access to a Spanish Ship while not in port, that the story begins. 

Sebastian had studied dutifully under the tutelage of Queen Izabella’s chef and fourth cousin on her mother’s side, Cristobel, after his escape., or to be more accurate, plank walk, he found a position on the Santa Maria. It was his highly acclaimed savoir fare, that earned him the sought-after position of Santa Maria’s Galley Chef, Extraordinaire. We now call them sous chefs, but then, change is inevitable.

Although, none of those on board could understand Sebastian, as they believed he only spoke French, and they, rarely spoke at all, but especially not to Captains, he remained a transient figure.  Because of their lack of language proclivity and education, they gave him the benefit of doubt in all matters. But as fate would have it, Columbus’s subsequent delirium, caused a radical shake up in the succession of command. That, and the language problem, found Sebastian Captain of the ship and its entourage. Again we see fate’s hand reaching from the delirious suppositions of the day to alter the intractable suspicions of the time.

Sebastian’s attempt to explain the possibility that earth was not Pita bread flat as believed, but that it was round, was a heretical pronouncement. He attempted to explain his theory by displaying the way his soup ladle, when moved from side to side, its contents mimicking the waves actions, cooled the soup, while remaining cupped. It was a poor excuse for an example of the earth being round, but easier to explain than the horizons seemingly bent profile when the sun set. It wasn’t however until the dinner bell became dislodged during a storm, that Columbus came to his senses. The bell fell from its mooring and landed on his feverous head, as he was contemplating the soup ladle dissertation. 

He had a hallucinatory premonition of a Newton’s gravitational theory, and although no one will ever know whether it was the blow on the head, or the concept of gravity itself that gave him the idea that it would be impossible to fall off the earth, as the force that caused his bell to be wrung, would keep his ship from sailing into nothingness, or so he reasoned. He also feared if they were to fall off the edge of earth, the concept of heaven would need be re-examined for conceptual accuracy, no doubt.

“Wait just a minute. You are saying that it was Monsieur Sebastian who was responsible for three ships sailing to the shores of Massachusetts, being saved from certain death by the gregarious nature of the native population, and then sailing back to Spain? How does that prove the earth is round and does not resemble Pita bread?”

“Haven’t you been listening? Gravity, gravity, and more gravity; if you can’t see how he proved the earth is round, I don’t really see any point in continuing the narrative, do you?”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, but it’s quite the leap from an apple falling from a futuristic vision of Newton’s tree, and Sebastian captaining a ship half way round the world, bringing God knows how many diseases to their saviors, and on top of it all, we being asked now, to honor his achievement, by celebrating a day that only exists because he became lost. Your logic seems a bit fuzzy.”

“Perhaps I should explain. Although Sebastian’s theory was the impetus for the reasoning behind not falling off the earth, he also was the one, who by no intentional means, saved the men and therefore the ships. The soup that convinced old Chris to continue, not fearing a certain demise at the hands of, well theory, also prevented scurvy, which in those days was deadly. Worse than rickets it has been claimed.”

“Have you given any thought to your conviction that gravity is what we should be celebrating instead of Columbus Day.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that at all. I merely want you to understand that Sabastian was and is unheard of, because he was denounced by the Church as an apparition sent by the devil to help Columbus exploit the superstitions of the day.”

“Then, how do we reconcile the fact that because Columbus and Sebastian managed to sail to the Americas, not fall off the edge of earth, and return, makes the earth round. I can, and have, driven from New York to San Francisco, and found that other than a few ups and downs, the trip was not only long, but certainly did not provide any evidence the earth isn’t flat.”

“Do you not believe in National Geographic, NOAH, Cape Canaveral, missiles being fired into smoke stacks in Iraq, or the Jetsons? My God, have you no faith. I should mention at this time that Sebastian was not an apparition sent by the devil or by God, but a stow a way, an accidental tourist, as they say. Apparently, his journal when discovered next to the Arc of the Covenant, and the sarcophagus of Mary Magdalene, made quite a stir in the bowels of the Vatican. He was in actuality, a cook for a notorious band of pirates, who although notorious, never gained the notoriety of Blue Beard, or Peg Leg Hooligan. Word has it Captain Monsieur Sebastian is up for what the faithful believe to be, the Oscar for supernatural introspection; Sainthood!”

“Excuse me Sir, may I get you anything?”

“I’ll have what he’s having.”