It was cold, bitterly cold even in the cabin, but at least there wasn’t any wind. Checking a map against the log book; we were still in pursuit and heading way too far north for this time of year. It was my shift at the wheel, and the seas were getting rough. The ship had been strung with safety lines, the deck was getting icy. The gloom even at mid day was worrisome. Storm lanterns were hung in anticipation of the snow squall. I pulled on a seal skin hood, cloak and gloves and left the cabin. The men were reliable, and well trained waiting the coming storm and the inevitable battle.
This original artwork was drawn by Ascension
As the ship heaved over another great wave, i could make out the Galleon a few leagues ahead of us. We were gaining, but ever so slowly. I climbed to the aft deck. A crew man was assisting the first mate at the wheel. Ice hung from their beards and clothing. Sea spray drifting around us cold to the bone. Over the wind in the sails and snap of the ropes, as more ice crashed to the decks. I smiled at the first mate with a gleam in my eye; he slowly shook his head with a smirk and a roll of his eyes; as I said; “Beautiful day isn’t it?” I took the wheel with a fresh crewman by my side and the first mate and his man retired below to warm up and rest before the battle commenced.
The smell of the salty spray, the smell of wet canvas and rope, the creaking of timbers, the motion as the ship is climbing and descending increasingly larger waves. The taste of salted pork and mulled wine. Heated by putting a hot iron into the liquid. The weight of the heavy clothing the feel of everything from the thin soled boots to the warm wool insulated leather gloves. The feel of ice slowly forming on my beard and eyelashes. The steam of my breath as it blew quickly away. The flicker of the lanterns. The shouts of the men. The adrenaline surge preparing for battle.
We were being paid to hunt Galleons, it was a much larger ship, than mine; lots more sail as well, but it was running heavy, too heavy. Just the way we wanted it. My ship, though much smaller, was quite nimble, well armed, and faster than they were.
I was aware of the projection as I began the Journey. But as I stood at the table with the map and logbook, as the light from the swinging lantern danced across the table…..
I was in the now. I was not aware of being in a Projection, nor was I an observer. I was Captain of this crew, weathering a nasty squall, chasing a treasure ship that lost its escort. As I took the wheel, braced my feet and threw a maniacal grin at the seaman next to me…… I slid back out and realized the projection.
Damn me! I was a Pirate! Arr!?
I have used Astral Projection a few other times to see my past lives, and this one was by far the most flamboyant.
· I was a Baker in Renn. France.
· A cobbler (shoes) in early America.
· A spice trader on a caravan along the Spice Road through Petra.
· And someone in Edinburgh during the scientific revolution. Very vague on the individual, but crystal clear on the architecture.