Sunday, July 24, 2005

Episode 4

After putting my boat to sea in the rain, I no longer wish to see my home again. My boat is my home now. Cold at night, hot during the day, but never unfaithful. I must leave that treacherous pit forever. New England seems like a good place in newspapers and stories. Deep underneath, there is a tangle of cold-heartedness and hatred. Below the surface there is a secret world of lies. I can't see the shore through the falling rain. I'm constantly on watch for ships. I would never be seen through the gray veil of constant rain. My small craft would be crushed under the solid steel hull of the ships that pass through the area. Shards of wood would be the only thing left of me were I to lose my focus in this constant pouring of water. The drops hitting my face run down my neck and under my rain slicker. I can't stop. I wouldn't want to stop. The wind is so strong from the south and the air is full of the smell of salt and seaweed. I can seek refuge in the cabin at night, when I anchor near Jonesport. But now, I want to feel the cold summer rain. I want to wash my mind in the cleansing motion of the waves. I gesture, "Hello," at those on board a tanker as I pass alongside. The ship looks as though it's been recently cast off and light, its waterline visible above the surface. As the rain becomes less intense, I can feel that hell slipping behind me forever. That's not to say that I may not reach a new one soon. Where am I going? I couldn't say. I brought all the money remaining in my account. When it's gone, that's it. I do not know if I must return to resume my life in the depths of loneliness. I would rather go down with my boat than face that menace again. But the sea is peaceful today. There are no fun-lovers out for joyrides on the water. I have only my thoughts right now and the idea that I will soon be in a new town, if only for a night or two.

Friday, July 15, 2005

Episode 3

I can see fish swimming below the the crosses and points of light along the surface of the big blue. I wonder what it would be like to be a fish. Constantly moving. Consistently searching for a new meal. Every moment looking everywhere for a shark or larger fish to come past and set in wait for ambush. But, it would be a world free from worries and sadness. A fish eaten gives life to the next in the heirarchy of life. It would be a life that is lived close to others of the same experiences. Except for those dreadful nets. Where do they come from and why are they in the water? I've decided to turn back home to see what I can resurrect from my wasteful life. The time that I've spent out here was theraputic. Each moment, I can feel currents passing below, carrying waters to some undetermined destination. The wind fills my sails, carrying my boat through water that has existed since the dawn of Earth. And yet I feel like I have run away from my world. Premature escape only weakens the heart's ability to become stronger. I don't want to run away, really. Maybe the torture is over. Maybe the hell has finally faded.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Episode 2

By the light of a small gas lamp, I'm writing tonight. I can't sleep. I find myself staring up at the stars, wishing I still had friends to talk to. I can lay down below and close my eyes, but my thoughts cut through the drowsiness and I am forced awake. I'm regretting so much of my past. But the scent of the ocean seems to be carrying it all away. I thought by now I'd be in complete despair. But there seems to be a strange sort of hope filling my spirit. Could it be the bright moon on a cloudless night? Is it the gentle swelling of the salty waves? I can't really tell right now. The whole world seems beautiful and I can't stop wondering how it all came to be. Still close to shore, I can see tiny points of light where land is. Occassionally, a dot of light will float over the surface of the water, headed toward the open ocean, into the stars. I like to imagine myself on one of those ships, working at sea for a living. I'd come home smelling like fish and rope and salt and grease. While at sea, I'd be longing to see land again. While on land, I'd be craving the rocking of the ocean waves in a thunderstorm. I'd be wishing for another close call. There would be nothing better than the dash of adrenaline that is felt after almost flying over the side of the ship.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Episode 1

Today, there was hell. I know. It's hard to believe. Hell doesn't even exist, really. But it felt like it. It's not the heat of the summer. It's the distress of life. I forget what I know and just wish that a change would come. I can stare out at the sea, but I know it has no answers. I'm left alone to listen to it whisper in a language I can never learn. Today, I think I have left for good. My boat, "The Dark Undercurrent", is the only place I have to find shelter. I've been out on the sea alone, sailing through the waves, since the dark of the morning. The late afternoon sun casts dark blue shadows on the waves I'm crossing. I can feel the air around me and the sea beneath me. It's the only place I feel at home. It's the only place where the hell cannot reach me. Every cool drop splashed up from the ocean is calming. Each cloud overhead is a comforting blanket of white cotton.

There was one reason for me staying on land. I'll admit that it was a woman. I was so entrapped in my own vision of what I thought my life was going to be. I left my friends. I forgot my family. Just for her. Her betrayal was heartbreaking. After she left for work, I left for good. And now I'm traveling on the sea, with no idea of where I will go from here.