Monday, January 28, 2008
one if by land. two if by sea.
pillows croon in a semicircle around my head. at first three. now 5. 6. i'm fighting to stay in the bed. the barricade of down and feathers i've artfully displayed during my pretense of sleep is giving weigh to my trashing dimensions. joints aching, head tossing, hands grasping for the steering wheel. i am not dreaming. sadly enough, i am also not sleeping. it's the salty drink that covets my slumber. the ocean is a blanket of entropy. writhing in the sheets, i rise from the bed. we have been sailing for 17 hours now. lids heavy, my eyes still producing sleep, i make a steadfast approach to the helm. the boat is heeling. i am bouncing into doorways, missing steps, and sliding through the galley. i imagine composing apologies: "i'm sorry ocean, for donating my leftover beef stroganoff...i guess you didn't care for it anymore than i did." i find my seat at the helm with the captain. the wind is screaming. 25 knots. 30. 35. we are under full sail. the main, jib, and mizen all smiling with the wind. it's 4 am. the sea illuminated only by the stars, and the faint hint of our spreader lights. no land in sight. i gaze across the mounting waves, whitecaps are frosting the ocean. the captain retires, this has now become my watch. alone with an angry sea, i brace myself as the boat smashes down, rogue wave, after rogue wave, stirring in 10-12' seas. i'm reminded of that ride at the fair that kinda looks like a triangular spinning top. and when you get inside, they start spinning the thing so fast that you stick to the walls. then after about a minute, they stop it and you fall down. i feel like i'm on that ride right now. hours of lost sleep, and a foaming host, have me reeling from one minute to the next. and, well, you can't fuck with gravity. i'm stuck inside that machine, and this weather front has me pinned to the walls. i want off this ride. i want to feel the relief as you stumble outside and kiss the ground. i'm not seasick, i'm tired goddammit. but it will go on like this, trade winds abusing my reality, for another 3 days. then with land insight, st. thomas will unveil in front of me. a brief sanctuary; resting up for the next seafaring safari.