Ocean Bites
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I had a nightmare. I was on my back in the water, looking up at the sky. It seemed to be blue and beautiful above me, but I couldn’t see it because of the waves crashing into me, knocking me down again and again.
The sea was full of white foam, so much so that I could barely make out the shapes of ships around me as they plowed through the sea towards me. And then I felt myself sinking beneath the surface, and my arms were pulled apart from each other, leaving my body limp and helpless.
Then I saw something like an enormous fish with eyes and teeth coming after me, its mouth opens wide; I knew that if I didn’t do anything, it would swallow me whole. But before it reached me, I woke up. I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to understand what had just happened.
My heart was beating fast, and I could still feel the coldness of the sea in my bones. I thought about it for some time until I realized that I hadn’t really been dreaming: there had actually been a ship right beside us when we had been asleep. And not one, but three—and two more on their way. That wasn’t good news. We were being hunted.
The next day was rather quiet. Our new companions did nothing except eat all our food, which made us very angry. They kept asking where Captain de Ruyter’s ship was and why he hadn’t come yet, and how many men he’d brought with him.
They were probably disappointed by our answers: only nine of us. One of them said he’d heard that the captain was going to take his prisoners away and leave them in a desert somewhere. He wanted to know who’d told him this and whether or not it was true.
I tried to tell him that it might well be true since he’d seen the Englishman being dragged off to a boat by those strange creatures yesterday.
“Well,” he replied, “we’re not going to let any of you get away.”
“Why should we?” asked another of them. “You’ve got no weapons!”
It was a fair point. We hadn’t even been able to defend ourselves against the Frenchmen. We’d had to wait for the Spaniards to rescue us. And now here were these newcomers, who weren’t afraid of anything, and who clearly expected us to give up without putting up a fight.
They didn’t seem too friendly, either, although they ate with us, helped themselves to our rations, and laughed when we talked. For some reason, I found them quite frightening. When we went outside, they followed us everywhere, even when we hid behind rocks.
If I looked back, I could see them peering over the edge, making faces at me. Every time they caught sight of me, they shouted something like “We’ll catch you, you bastard!” I didn’t think they liked me.
There were four of them. Two big men and two smaller ones, and none of them spoke much. They spent most of their time sitting on the deck, talking to each other. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were obviously plotting something together.
As the days passed, they started getting angrier and angrier at us. At first, they threatened to kill us, then they began to throw things at us. Sometimes they would hit us hard enough to knock us unconscious or break one of our legs. They never said sorry afterward, though, or explained what they were doing. All they did was laugh.
One day, when they threw a piece of wood at my head, I grabbed hold of it. I swung it around in a circle and hit one of the bigger ones across the face. His nose broke and he fell to his knees, crying out in pain. The others took advantage of the situation to attack us.
As soon as I turned around to help the man, one of the smaller ones ran up and punched me in the stomach. Another hit me with his fist and I doubled up, coughing. By the time the big man had managed to stand up again, the two of them had already beaten up all of us.
There was blood dripping down our backs, and one of them had broken the leg of the other one so that he wouldn’t be able to move properly. It was a miracle that he lived at all, and the rest of us were lucky not to have been killed.
When they had finished attacking us, they left us there, bleeding and moaning in pain, while they sat down on the deck and began laughing. A few minutes later, the biggest one came back and stood looking down at us. I could see fear in his eyes.
I wondered what he was thinking about. Maybe he was wondering whether or not he should finish the job and kill us. But instead of attacking us, he just pointed to the shore. “Come on, you bastards! Hurry up and swim ashore before they catch us!”
I watched him walk towards the shore and felt relieved that at least he wasn’t coming back to do more damage. Then I noticed that the water level was rising quickly. I realized that it must be high tide. I could feel waves washing over my feet. My arms and legs ached from lying motionless for hours. I decided that if I didn’t try to get to the shore immediately, I would die.
At last, after several attempts, I managed to crawl along the floor of the boat until I reached the bow. I pushed myself into the sea, hoping to find shelter among the rocks, but the current swept me away. The waves carried me further and further from the coast, and I became exhausted and frightened.
I thought about how it would be if I drowned. How cold the water would be. What would happen to my family? Would they ever know what happened to me? I knew I had to stay alive somehow – even if it meant swimming for hours under the open sky.
I swam desperately, fighting the strong currents until I finally made it to dry land. I lay there for a long time, shivering in the sun, unable to move. Eventually, I dragged myself onto the sand and tried to look around me.
My first impression of Spain was that it was beautiful. In the distance, I saw mountains covered with green trees, which gave way to flat plains where sheep grazed. To the north, a huge forest stretched across the landscape. It seemed very peaceful and serene; everything was clean and tidy. After resting for a while, I decided to go exploring.
The forest was full of animals: deer, boars, wild pigs, foxes, badgers, and rabbits. The ground was covered with thick grass, and it smelled sweet. On the far side of the forest, I saw a small village, surrounded by houses, barns, and stables. Everything was built of stone, with red tiles on the roof. There was no sign of life. It looked deserted.
After wandering through the forest for some time, I heard the sound of voices. When I followed the noise, I discovered a large group of people, standing outside a church. One of them was a priest wearing a black cassock. He was shouting angrily at another man, who wore a blue robe.
“You are supposed to protect God’s creatures,” the priest shouted, pointing at me. “But you seem to care little about protecting them.”
I stared at the priest in astonishment. What did he mean by that?
He continued to shout, shaking his finger at me. “If you want to save this animal, take it home. Otherwise, we’ll throw it in the river and let the fish eat it!”
The priest walked off, leaving me alone in front of the crowd. Nobody paid any attention to me. I looked around and noticed that the villagers had gathered around an old woman sitting in her garden. She was dressed in a brown dress.
Her hair hung loose on either side of her head. She appeared to be about fifty years old. She had a sad expression on her face as she peered at me intently through half-closed eyes.
Her house was made of clay bricks and had two windows. A wooden door led inside. There were three other buildings next to her house. They were all made of wood. Next to each building was a well, like the ones I had seen in Africa. The well was filled with fresh water, so I drank it gratefully.
I approached the old lady, hoping to ask her something. As soon as I got closer, however, I saw that she was blind. This explained why nobody had bothered to help me earlier. She turned slowly towards me, gazing at me silently with her strange, pale grey eyes.
I asked her if she spoke English, but she shook her head. I repeated the question in Spanish. Again, she shook her head. I started to wonder if perhaps I had understood her correctly. Perhaps she couldn’t understand what I was saying?
Suddenly, she held out her hand towards me, gesturing that I should come closer. I took one step forward, then stopped. I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet her again. She hadn’t been nice when she found me on the beach, and she still wasn’t being friendly now.
However, I could see that she wanted me to approach her, so I cautiously moved closer. I didn’t speak to her, but instead sat down on the ground, facing her. She kept staring at me without speaking. I wondered if perhaps she was deaf too.
She suddenly smiled at me. For a moment I was taken aback, not knowing whether I ought to smile back or not. Then I realized that she must have been happy to see someone new. So, I returned her smile.
As I gazed at her, I felt a sense of calm descend upon me. I knew then that she was indeed blind, and yet I also sensed that she could see more than most others. Her gaze was intense and penetrating as if she was able to see right through me.
I could almost hear her thoughts and feel the pain that she was experiencing. At the same time, there was also joy in her eyes. It was hard to put into words what I was feeling, but I knew that I liked her.
We sat together quietly for quite a while. I began to feel sorry for her because I could tell how much she missed having sight. I tried to imagine myself in her position. If I couldn’t see anything, would I be happy, or would I long for the sight that everyone else has? I didn’t know the answer to those questions, but I hoped that she wouldn’t ever lose her sight.
Eventually, she stood up and left me sitting under the trees. I watched her go, wondering where she went and what she did. Was she lonely? Did she spend every day alone, just waiting for visitors? Or was she simply going to do whatever needed doing, until somebody came along to visit her?
Whatever it was, she seemed content with her life. She never complained and always greeted anyone who came near her.
Then, after a few minutes, I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up and saw a young boy coming towards me. He was holding a stick.
“Do you want a ride?” he asked me, pointing to the stick.
I thought that it might be fun to try riding on it, so I climbed onto its end. As I did so, the boy laughed loudly. His laugh sounded very loud; it echoed throughout the village. I quickly jumped off and ran away from him. But the laughter followed me everywhere.
It was only a short time later that I finally decided to return to my ship. As I neared it, I noticed a figure standing by the railings. I recognized it instantly. It was Captain Wessel.
“What are you doing here?” I shouted angrily. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He looked surprised. “Why not?”
“Because you’re supposed to be in the Caribbean. You told us that we were sailing south.”
“Yes, but we changed our minds,” he replied calmly.
I stared at him for a minute before I said: “Are you telling me that we’re heading north instead?”
His face became serious. “Yes, I am. We’ve discovered gold in California.”
The End