Numbered Days
by: Ralph E. Ahseln  10/2014

Conclusion - Part Four

Undiscovered Country , ner Charted

Reaching across the wind of the East, he continued to hear its seductive words every minute he was awake. They were in his thoughts each time he tried to rest. He drove on day after day in desperation. Anxious to leave the torture of seduction behind him. He decided to used engine to help gain distance. It would be a motor sail until the voice began to weaken. In a short time, the fuel ran out. There would be no auxiliary power from now on. Skälm's batteries soon discharged. There would be no lights or electronics. Only the handheld devices had power. A limited supply of the AA sized batteries meant he would only use them when absolutely necessary.

The wind from the East had left him and a brisk Northeasterly carried him along. While the fear of what was going to be coming knotted his stomach, he began to feel he was free of the shaming voice! He then shook out each reef in the main and engaging the self steering wind vane, he felt he now must go below and try to sleep.

Sleep was fitful when it came. Dreams he couldn't remember, never-the-less, would jar him awake. The unknown before him, held him in its grip, asleep or awake. As daybreak was approaching and for a blessed moment, he did slip into a deep and dreamless state.

    It was the cold that woke him. Body numbing cold ! His breath came out of his mouth as white vapor. His fingers were bloodless white and ached terribly. Wrapped up in his blanket with cushions piled around him, he still shivered. It was freezing inside . He knew the propane tanks were almost empty, but he just had to get some warmth into him. From the last measure of fresh grounds, he spilled into the brewing basket. It didn't matter it was the last of the coffee, he HAD to have that warm liquid. Getting hypothermic meant trouble out here on the ocean,... alone.

The gas flame on the galley stove felt good and the pot began to boil. The smell of fresh coffee revived him a little. Finally after what was an agonizing amount of time, the brown liquid was on its way into his insides. It burned his tongue but he didn't care. The heat of that brew flowed through his body.

Putting on layers of sweaters, He began to feel a little better. He stuffed paper and cloth into every crack he could find. At least he'd keep as much warmth in and, if possible, the cold out. The second cup of coffee had went into him and he was feeling fairly good. Even though it was still cold enough to see his breath here in the cabin, he was warm inside . His thinking had returned to normal but the unknown still lured... somewhere out there. Why was it so cold? He couldn't have sailed into the cold climates already, could he?.... But, then, he'd been on starboard tack for a very long time. While he had been keeping a log of the events he'd experienced, he hadn't checked his position in..... ?How long had it been ? He'd forgotten. "My god, it's been months since I entered the last position ! ", he groaned. It was true. Six months ago, they'd left the coast of California and now, he and Skälm were somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, but where?

He retrieved the handheld GPS. He prayed the batteries had held up and were functioning.

The minute long "Acquire" was agonizing to him, but finally, the LCD screen lit up and the numbers showed.... He almost dropped the GPS ! For Six months he and the boat had been traveling. The winds had blown violently or moderately almost every day . During all those times he'd sailed from West to South to East, now on a Northerly track.... Yet,... The read out showed....... 38° 30.00 ' N Latitude.

They had moved ONLY 30 nautical miles, North. "That couldn't be right !", he shouted to himself

He found some new double A batteries and replaced the old ones. There, again, the GPS numbers read the same 38 degrees, 30 minutes it had before. Slowly it sunk into the sailor's brain. He had been sailing in circles for months. The winds and the voices within them had been forcing him to change his course. He was being directed by the WINDS!

Why were they making him sail North now? What was their motive to make him take that line? Whatever it was, at least there were no voices. Only the bone chilling cold and he could deal with that. Once he had sailed far from the others, he'd find a way to continue his voyage. Perhaps this Northern course might be his way out. He would break through once he got to the top of the massive Low pressure cell he seemed to be caught in. Then he could continue his voyage. He'd beat them all !

Several days on a 360 degree bearing, it was getting colder. So cold that he began thinking about turning back to the warmer part of the Pacific. The cold had sapped his strength and numbed his mind. A decision was going to have to be made about continuing on this course, or he would be in peril. Besides, food sources were scarce now and his water supply had dwindled to just a few gallons. He had to go where he could replenish supplies. There was food in the warmer waters where he'd been and rain fell there. The thought of going back to those fearful voices made him shudder, but it was necessary if he was to survive. He would figure a way to break through the winds and weather that he'd encountered in those places.

The scrap of a mainsail still bent on the spars, filled as he turned the wheel of Skälm once more to Port. The boat began its turn away and the sailor heard a faint noise. Sounding like a crowd. The sound was a plaintive wail.. Many voices sighing a collective "Ooooooh". Then overriding the melancholy choir, came a roar. It came in a thousand voices, male, female, old and young.....

" I am Norr ..... You will Listen to me,.... yet! "

Shaken, the sailor turned his back on the voice and hid his head. After some time, the sounds were no longer heard. The boat moved quickly away from that place, a place he instinctively knew he had to fear.

The days flew by until he realized that he was back at the edge of the West storm and it's accusing "Harpy" sounds. He chose not to linger here, on he sailed. At last coming to the warm and foggy seas, he turned head to wind to rest a while.

The raucous laughter and ribald stories were like an avalanche. Debauchery and debasement were the themes and it shamed him so much, he turned the wheel to Port once more. Soon the pleading promises of seduction assailed his brain. It increased in intensity and sensual content so much that he tried stopping it entering his ears. It was too much for him to bare.

The wheel of Skälm was revolved once more..., to Port.

Trying to pass the Northern boundary as quickly as the boat could move, he still would have days of deep cold and the sounds of the multitude with their sad wailing. It was calling to collect him and him alone.

He and Skälm had been sailing for weeks, now they were back at what had been the Northern limit of their travel. Making the day's entry in the log, he realized that it was his birthday October 30, 2015. One year had past since the day he watched the last of Point Reyes California drop below the horizon. "Where was he now?" he wondered. After all , the winds and voices had kept him sailing in a circle so long he had lost the point of the cruise.

The handheld GPS was pulled out of its safe place and the ON button pressed.  There it was, ...not a surprise to him this time. 39° 00.00' North .

The Spirits, if that's what they were, in this ONE year had kept his promise. " His Age on that numbered latitude". Then it struck him to his depth.. It made sense now.

He was never going to get out !

He was NEVER going to make it out of this circle of storms. It was some kind of a monstrous Pacific LOW. Turning and churning his LIFE away ! Rotating him and his boat to eternity. He began to rage and curse,  thinking to himself that, if this is all true, and he’s being directed, why not go to the monster he had avoided and feared? He would defy the thing.

For the first time since this cruise had begun, he turned S kälm's wheel to Starboard.

He was going to head into that cacophony of wailing now. To the unknown. To that horrible Male-Female vocalization.  As the boat came about to the new course he'd set, a blast of freezing rain and snow hit him like a wall. He heard the Wailing louder. Those sounds that seemed to be imbedded in the icy wind, became an odd, now familiar, booming growl.

" I am .. NORR ..."

It continued, Multi voiced, painfully off key, like some maniac orchestra tuning.

"Listen to me now. Follow me now. "
" I am what you seek. I AM the voices of your life. I am the ... You of You ! "
"Come to me. Come and listen to the Chronicle of your days. "
" Call me", " Djävulen"
" Know me.... I am, truly.... Hel "

Full realization came like a lightning strike, now he knew full well...... Perdition had been HIS... destination from the beginning. HIS... chosen course had always been to.... Self destruction.

Skälm ... continued its sail,
They... followed the voice,
He... listened to HIS stories.
He listened and wept.

Epilogue:

The detail crew from the Arctic research vessel "R/V Sága", walked across the pack ice carefully. This ice had been known to buckle and shift quickly. It had a history of killing the unwary ice scientist. Since the world warming disasters, Arctic ice was unstable even in Winter time. This was late in the season, but the crew didn't take any chances. They approached the object in the pack ice, with some trepidation. No one really knew what it was.

First picked up on RADAR, the ship's Captain thought it might be a container box that had drifted away and had made it this far North. The on-board helicopter flew over it to get a better view . The pilot reported that he was sure that it was some kind of vessel. Hearing that, the Captain sent out an investigating party to take a closer look.

The officer in charge, Lieutenant Magni was the first to climb aboard the derelict. Radioing back to the Research vessel he reported that it "Indeed was a boat, a small sailboat". He noted seeing a metal tag on the stern indicating that it had been made by the Hallberg-Rassy company, and while the boat's name was barely readable, it looked something like "Skälm". He further reported that the boat was in a wrecked condition with most of the gear gone. He called, saying that he was attempting to open the hatch and investigate the interior.

An hour later, Lieutenant Magni was at the ward room's computer desk filling out his report. He wrote:

" 0010 Z ; As directed, boarded a derelict sailboat. Upon investigation, found said vessel to be in an unseaworthy condition with large cracks and holes located in several locations along the hull. Pack Ice was supporting the vessel.

After difficulty, managed to pry open the hatch and view inside cabin . Most of the interior was filled with ice. I was unable to ingress any farther than the descending ladder because of icing conditions below. There were no retrievable items, save one. I was able to obtain what appears to be the Log of the sailing vessel " Skälm ".

The body of a male individual, completely encased in ice, was found seated at the navigation desk. I could not extricate the body because of the icing. All attempts failed. The person's face was partially exposed and in my judgment, the individual was middle aged. Approximately 40 years old. No identification could be made at site.

As the investigating crew was about to search the vessel for more details, the pack ice broke and shifted. Deeming it Unsafe to continue , I ordered all personnel to stand off and be prepared to vacate the location. The Log book was salvaged at that time. As the detachment stood by, the pack ice separated and the vessel slipped into the open waters and sank. This complete action from initial survey to sinking, was less than one half hour.

Witness/OIC;  Lt. R . A. Magni.

The Log book Lt. Magni retrieved from the boat, was now in the possession of the Captain. He opened the first page and read ...  "October 30, 2014, Course: 270 ° True, Latitude 38° 00.0' N ; Long 123° 01.00' W. "

Continuing reading the log book,  until its final entry,The Captain noted the last entry. Written in an old fashioned script, were these words scrawled across the page... "....Abandon all hope , ye who enter here ....."

He pushed the log book aside.

The Captain sat and pondered what he had just read for several minutes. Then turning to Lt. Magni, he quietly spoke. "Here we are in the Beaufort Sea, investigating the effects of Global Warming. We've spent weeks of scientific study of Arctic Sea Ice in these high latitudes. Now, I've just read the words of a man who sailed here long before the ice had begun melting . Amazing!" The Captain sat back in his chair and slowly shook his head in wonder .

Later that day, he entered the following in the S/V Sága's ship's Log,

" Master of the research vessel, R/V Sága , this day, ordered an attachment of ship's company to investigate a vessel marooned in ice at this position. It was found to be the pleasure vessel " Skälm " out of Portland Oregon. Shortly after the initial survey, the vessel broke free from the ice and immediately sank. All traces of the vessel and its Captain are lost.

Cmdr. Delling Baldr, Captain; R/V Sága

                             October 30, 2052 0100 Z Posit: 76° 00.0' N, 180° 38' W.

End.... As we all shall do !

© r. ahseln 10-30-2014

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3