Open Seas, Open Skies

I must go down to the sea again,
to the lonely sea and sky,
and all I ask is a tall ship,
and a star to steer her by......-John Mansfield(?)

I have clear memory of the longing this poem filled my young 12 year old heart with. It was part of our school text on english language. The poem spoke of unfamiliar freedoms, seduction of vast skies and open seas, joy of aloneness, all quite foreign to my world filled with women in purda, macho men, countless cousins, aunts, uncles, bright colors in Indian hues of red, brown, turmeric, glitter, clamor, close bonds, sharing, love. I was thus very attracted to images of vast, silent, monochromes in shades of blues, grays, inky night skies which rain stardust, a bobbing boat with a gentle billowy white sail. I have carried these images and longings hidden for many decades. Now suddenly I find myself on threshold of a journey that promises fulfillment of these dreams and I am excited and also afraid. There is a forloraness in giving up old, familiar wants and fear that real sailing across real oceans will leave little space for experiencing poetic reminiscence. I travel with three other companions from India to the Mediterranean via the Red sea for about three months in a sail boat. My days are filled with reading a sailing bible, down loading SOB(software-on-board)navigation system, checking shipping weather forecasts, learning, worrying, packing, with little room for lingering farewells to old dreams or ecstatic anticipation of new adventures. There is also a delicious fear of the unknown-the only certainty in this trip-unknown oceans, seas, brilliant coral reefs, fish....also unknown storms, pirates, sharks.... unknown lands, people, cultures-regions of the middle east-areas of mystic, magic, gold sand dunes, and jewelled oases - turbaned men, and burkha-ed women with glitter eyes and henna hands-camel chains crossing fiery sunsets, strange wailing music-scenes from Arabian Nights, and Omar Khayaaam. I stand at this threshold, between imagery and real, dream and concrete, ready to awake and yet with cobwebs of worlds built inside confusing my sight...