The Great and Mysterious Voyage

The rain fell harder. The sea rolled as it oft times does when the waves grow large and the sea swells high. A storm brewed from the east as I ran with the wind heading due west. It was well into morn now. At ten bells, the rain fell in sheets and the wind picked up; the downpour came at me from an angle near sideways. I could wait no longer. After roping the wheel, I made way amidships, employing myself to batten down the hatch, then made haste again to the helm. An hour later, lightning found its way free from its storehouse. I saw flashings on the horizon behind me and became concerned. I wished it not to strike the fore nor the main.

Not an hour later, the wind changed slightly, coming from southeast. The waves grew till the sea splashed over the portside bulwark as the ship, on its downward motion, chopped through the water. The deck was ever so slippery with salty water, and I clung tightly to the wheel. I slid about at the helm, and was relieved of my footing several times. Still the waves grew as the wind gained strength, and the Once Around was tossed about.

I feared at one point, upon having my legs swept from under me by the waves, that I might actually be thrown into the sea. I began to fear greatly for other calamities as well, and wished there were an harbor nearby as the strength of the storm was still behind me, yet ever approaching. I made a dead reckoning of my current position: this far west of Ghost Island, no land would be found for nigh unto one full day in any direction. The hope of port was lost.

I turned to a new heading, three points off the starboard prow. Facing directly northwest, I tried to run harder and faster with the wind. Fool that I was, thinking I could outrun the oncoming storm!

The cold autumn rain came down hard, stinging my exposed face and hands. The sky was black. Only the flash of pursuing lightning illumined my way.

The storm gained strength and speed.