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I, THE SEA TRAMP

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Author Topic: I, THE SEA TRAMP  (Read 1433 times)
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Bianca
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« on: March 09, 2009, 09:24:21 pm »












Time plays tricks down here, but I figure that I’ve been waiting at least 500 years for a salvage crew to find me. I may just give up soon. Most of my amphorae have leaked out their well-aged wines (I like to think that Homer’s famous description of the “wine-dark sea” represents the spillage from old tubs like me) and I don’t hold out much hope that my briny almonds are worth eating now that the sacks have rotted away. The same is probably true of the other consumables my crew had stashed in the sail locker on board: olives, figs, grapes, garlic, lentils, pistachios, hazelnuts, and sprigs of (once) dried herbs. Of course, I have taken good care of the cookware and such that the lads used for food preparation. I get sentimental every time I count through their eating utensils (plates, spoons, cups, jars, jugs) all neatly preserved in multiples of four. I guess their families never knew what happened to these poor fellows, or where to come to gather up their things.

What’s left of me lies safely under a protective blanket of soil, sand, and sea-grasses, not to mention the tons of cargo pinning me here. Guess I’m fast again, in the arboreal sense of the word. For a while the teredo worms feasted on my exposed timbers, especially my upraised starboard hull, until silt and sediments from the nearby coast covered my rotting bones. With nowhere to go, I spend lots of time recording in this logbook the exciting news of another manta ray, squirrelfish or grouper passing overhead.
« Last Edit: March 09, 2009, 09:25:20 pm by Bianca » Report Spam   Logged

Your mind understands what you have been taught; your heart what is true.


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