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Words by Rumi. Co-Creative artwork by Katherine Gerardi and Greg Frucci, 2013. Katherine took one of my paintings of the Bermuda Longtail and altered the color and texture.

Words by Rumi. Co-Creative artwork by Katherine Gerardi and Greg Frucci, 2013. Katherine took one of my paintings of the Bermuda Longtail and altered the color and texture.

In a womb I am…

comfortable here within these warm protective walls…

yet…

The Time is Now to become the Free Spirit which was Created through a metamorphosis of Change…

Ψ

As the Little She sailed during the late night into early morning with Petah at her helm, the winds and waves began to diminish. The sun rose into a day of peaceful calm as the two were barely moving under sail alone. Petah noticed a bit of anxiousness knowing that they were moving across the sea at less than four knots.

“What’s the rush? It’s a beautiful day and I’m almost half-way to the Bahamas?” spoke Petah to the southern horizon.

He considered starting the diesel engine which would increase speed, but chose to continue in silence without the noise of an engine running. The two had sailed almost two hundred-fifty miles in less than two days, which for the Little She, was a good distance with only one human aboard to sail her. Petah knew this and was happy. Instead of stopping the boat as before, for now he wanted sleep, he rigged a combination of bungee cords to lash the helm to the safety rails on both sides of the boat. As slow as they were going in winds of five to ten knots and small two foot swells, the Little She kept a good course alone. After eating a peanut butter sandwich with fresh bread he had purchased in Bermuda and covering his body with sunscreen, Petah laid his tired body down on the comfortable cockpit bench cushions falling fast asleep dreaming of many things.

Petah did not wake for over two hours. The solar panel mounted on the stern high above the cockpit kept most of his body in the shade, but the early day was becoming a hot one. As his eyes opened and looking into a silent blue sky of very little wind, he heard a bell ringing. It sounded very close. As he leaped up and scanned the empty sea all around him, the sound of a ships bell could be heard again.

“What?” quietly spoke a confused Petah.

Petah slowly turned three hundred and sixty degrees in the cockpit looking for a ship…or a small boat…anything. Yet he saw only the Indigo Sea surrounding him on a beautiful sunny day. The sea was almost flat with just a slight breeze creating tiny ripples on the surface. Silence as he stood there motionless. He heard the ringing again.

“Am I still asleep? Am I dreaming? I hear a ships bell and there is nothing here but me. It must be lack of sleep,” spoke Petah while he slapped his face several times in an effort to wake himself up even though he was.

The satellite pager given to him by Orthodox Incorporated started to beep indicating a text message. It read, “Call me on the Sat Phone ASAP – Secumptual”.

Petah had not spoken to another human since he left the Customs Dock in Bermuda. Bermuda Radio wished him good sailing over the VHF Radio, but that was even before he sailed through Town Cut into the Ocean. Petah was excited to call someone and talk despite what was going to be said to him.

“Hey Captain, what’s up?” asked a happy Petah of Secumptual.

“We are receiving your positions nicely via the SPOT device. You are making incredible headway. Good show, Petah using those winds at your back. Looking at the weather there online, you seem to be in a dead wind area, correct?

“Yeah, it’s nice to just chill for a while in these calm seas. What’s the forecast?” spoke a satisfied Petah.

“Well, that’s why I wanted you to call. The weather forecasts have changed dramatically since you set sail two days ago. If you continue to the Bahamas, you will run into fifty knot winds the day you arrive and they will not be at your back, they will be in your face,” Secumptual answered with force.

“That’s not good,” quietly spoke Petah as he looked to the horizon.

“Haha, nope. The good news is, the fronts which were preventing you from sailing due west have changed to. They are tracking farther north, which means you can change course and sail due west. You are far enough south, that if you head west you will sail directly into northern Florida or Southern Georgia. I suggest you make Jacksonville, Florida your heading. As you get closer we will send you satellite messages giving you changes if needed. Do you understand, Petah?”

“I put alternate destinations in my GPS unit before I set sail out of Bermuda. Jacksonville is one of them and it’s over eight hundred miles from here…that will take about eight more days,” spoke Petah with frustration.

“I know Petah, but that is what you must do. Charleston, South Carolina and here are closer, but the southern edge of the front is still predicted to pass over us about the time you would arrive…if those conditions change we will let you know and you can sail into either place. For now, make your heading northern Florida or Southern Georgia,” spoke Secumptual forcefully.

“I am currently on a heading of two hundred-twenty degrees. I will change course to two hundred-seventy degrees due west when we hang up and consider a port to aim for during the day.”

“Copy that Petah. How’s your mind?”

“I’ve been hearing clearly a ships bell this morning…and there are no ships in the area…nothing. Just me.”

“Hahaha. You’re in the middle of the Triangle, Petah. I am not surprised.”

“The Bermuda Triangle. I’ve never put much serious thought into it. It’s cool and I’ve been interested in the mythology, but…”

“There is something there, Petah…just because we do not understand something, does not mean it does not exist. Enjoy the moment…you will be fine.”

“It’s funny to me now. Just before you called, I was slapping myself in the face trying to wake up.”

“You are awake, Petah…today’s forecast for most of the day is the same as it is now. Calm. The winds will pick up later in the evening, but not too much. Tomorrow, they will become stronger out of the north as will the swells as you begin to draw closer to one of the fronts which have already passed over us. You will be crossing through the southern end of the front, so the impact on you will be less and nothing you cannot handle. The next few days are iffy right now, but expect to have winds in the thirty knot range from time to time.”

“Thanks, Captain. I’m going to enjoy the day and rest. Maybe sleep some more after I change direction to the west.”

After the two sailors spoke, Petah changed his direction. The winds had died down to almost nothing. He started the engine, locked the helm with the bungees and cooked some rice. After eating until he could fit nothing more into his belly, Petah walked forward with his hand-held GPS unit and a camera filming the Indigo Sea as he sailed due west. Placing the camera down for a few moments, he began to study the charts on the GPS unit. Captain Secumptual had loaned him a microchip which contained all the buoys, channels, anchorages and marinas from Maine all the way down to the Caribbean Islands. Petah determined that on his current heading, he could sail straight into Jacksonville, Florida after crossing the Gulf Stream.

“Jacksonville is where we shall go…at least as of today,” spoke a smiling Petah to the mast of his Little She.

He stayed on deck for hours looking to the sea all around him.

“Beautiful, you are. I love being here,” spoke Petah to the sea.

As Petah sat on the deck of his Little She and stared into all that was around him, he heard voices speaking. Conversations between others with a feeling of them not knowing he was there to listen. The feeling Petah had within him was odd, sending a chill down his spine. He heard two men with southern accents discussing the killing of a deer. He heard two women talking about the loves of their lives. The conversations he heard were clear. He could hear every word spoken, yet the conversations seem to begin and end within the middle of talking. He heard the ships bell again. He heard music of many genres, something which calmed his Core between the human voices. No matter where Petah moved around his vessel, he heard the sounds of others all day and into the evening as the winds began to increase.

A band of clouds approached Petah and the Little She as night fell. From a distance, Petah could see the surface of the sea begin to change. He sailed into the night and did not sleep for many hours to come.

Ψ

The Longtailed One came to me no more…

it was as if to say…

“my work is finished here, Petah…

go Home now…as will I.”

The chapter, “…day Three to the West…” from “Path of Three Hundred“, by Greg Frucci