Set Course for Land
Wasique Hasan
The waves crashed against the side of the vessel listlessly. 66 days at sea. 1,584 hours. At first, the hours had passed by in a blur. We were swamped, and I hardly had a moment to myself. But at least we were doing something. As the days sped by, our activities died down. There was only so much one could do on a ship headed nowhere.
Bit by bit, ever so slowly, fear creeps into our hearts. None of us are prone to cowardice. All around me are the bravest men I have ever met. But this foe is one which we have never faced before. One you couldnt fight. This was the great unknown, and we were sailing straight into it.
I gripped the rail tighter as the ship crested a bigger swell. It sent sea-spray up on deck, dousing my tunic completely. Wiping water from my face, I looked out towards the neverending nothingness extending to the horizon. The blue waters shimmered in the noon-day sun.
My knuckles whiten from gripping the rails so hard. This is the farthest I have been from land. It was unnatural. No matter how good your sea-legs are, you have to keep land in sight. That is an unspoken law. Even when I served in the war vessel, land was always on the horizon. Bad luck awaits those who venture too far from land. The connection between man and earth is a sacred one, and the lifeblood of all mortals. Right now, my connection was tenuous, to say the least. No doubt I had incurred heaps of bad luck by now. Nowadays, it was tempting to smash all the mirrors in the cabin. What is a bucket of bad luck compared to an ocean of it?
At night, the crew huddled around the brazier, sharing stories of creatures believed to live in the depths of the dark waters. Some claimed they were averse to sunlight. Others spoke of rumours they had heard from an acquaintance of a friend, how they have over a hundred slimy limbs and were sent by the sea gods to keep the seas free from mortals. Maybe, someday the things we see now will become rumours, passed from mouth to mouth. If we make it back. My greatest fear is that we will hit a calm patch and be stranded on the ship till we turn into dust and bones. Like an isle of flightless birds.
Once, everyone is warm and giddy and as happy as they could be on this voyage, we head back to our posts. My station is the one by the edge of the sky _ the crows nest. I make short work of the long climb. Atop my perch, the loneliness is accentuated. It seems to pile on like layers of sand on a wreck. That is what I am now, being dragged along by the waves to God knows where. For all I know, the best is over and the worst is yet to come. I was the last crew member to throw in the towel. It wasnt worth it to keep on holding when the rest had given up.
Suddenly, I jolt upright and wipe the sleep from my eyes. Must have dosed off sometime during my watch. I wipe my eyes a little harder because my vision is still blurry. Then I stop. The problem isnt with my eyes. A fine mist has descended, and it covers everything in a thin film of moisture. I clamber up higher. All around me the milky darkness extends its hold. The whiteness is suffocating. I cant take it anymore. I hightail it back to deck.
What I see below baffles me even more. Over to the west, the fog languidly clears to reveal a clear sight. Land! Even at that distance, in the wee hours of the night, it is unmistakable. My hands shake as I bring the horn up to my lips. On my second attempt, I am able to get a lungful of air and blow. The melancholy keening cuts through the silence of the night. Within minutes, the crew stands huddled around me, pointing their looking-glasses towards the horizon. No one speaks. The moment lasts for a long while. Intermittently you hear someone weeping. Finally, the captain turns to us. Tears sparkle on his cheeks. Grinning from ear to ear, he delivers his command: Set course for land, you lot!
Photos: Internet
