I remember my captain. God rest his soul. He was a mighty man, seemingly indomitable. His grizzled hands gently guided me away from storms and harbored me in safety. His body is now below the waves but the memories of him are still with me.
His greatest lesson was also his shortest. “Always follow the compass.” The compass he spoke of has only one bearing, due west. According to the log this has been the trajectory since the first captain.
There are stories, passed down from captain to captain, of fanciful worlds and dream-like shores. I have never seen land, but it has been described as a deck that reaches to the horizon where all sorts of beast live and life grows from the soft surface.
Sometimes it feels just that, a story. On days like today, when the sails are slack and a sailor’s mind wanders, I dream about these things. Though, I must temper my thoughts for I may never see land but you, my son, will be the next captain and you may.