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↑ Vantage pt for Jay Levine at tippity top of crow's nest before he jumped.

Das Boot: the first and perhaps most profound of the Dreamscape categories in that it describes not only the day-to-day adventures of a Caribbean escape, but also a moment that was much of a fulcrum or a rubicon for everyone involved, both a gathering and a dispersal. They were all twenty-four or twenty-five years old, an age where everything in the past seems like prologue and the next turned page is where the story really begins. There was a lot of debate about what comes next: plans hatched, destinies reconsidered. And soon after: Sebastian heading for Brazil, Christoph to Argentina, Helene to New Zealand, our pal Jayson and Natalie both to New York City. And the more we studied these pages, the stronger the urge became to apply allegory and deeper significance to everything that was written. And although 'reality' strongly resists such neat and tidy structuring, nonetheless here it is.

-- Eds

Das Boot i (3/33)

December 7, 1990

Choose a different dreamscape

Lezzee… Still stranded in Marigot Bay although not, it should be noted, in the same calm and benign bay but really another bay or perhaps the same bay but further out, near the gap where the bay ends and the ocean begins.

Engines still not responding to optimum satisfaction. In fact, due to the inferior battery retention abilities, may not fire-up at all tomorrow. Yet, we leave. Goodbye, au revoir, auf wiedersehen etc. We leave, regardless. Hoist the mainsail! Hoist the jib! Away.

I write in near obscurity, flickering, wavering glow thrown by a dim kerosine lamp, wick medium to medium high. Yellowish, wavering. Outside, in this newly anchored locale, waves splash against the hull, lines (loose) thud + echo blah blah 

So, no lights, you see, is the point of all this. Not yet. No generator. Tomorrow (8am) I hoist the anchor by hand (no electric winch). Then away! Off to St. Vincent and even if the battery is shot, it’s still off we go (the glories of wind energy) to deal with matters at that more picturesque and photo-perfect haven for lost and weary souls weary and searching for peace…

Sebastian, to a Local, re. fishing:

Sebastian: I use a spoon. Which is better, spoon or feather?

L: Feather is good.

S: Which is better?

L: Feather is good. Catch big tuna… snapper

S: But which is better – spoon or feather?

L: Feather is good, man

And, later Natalia a (different) local:

L: Cecil is in the hospital

Nattie: Oh no! Why? What happened?

L: He in the hospital, man.

N: But what happened to him?

L: He go in the hospital. But you see him at the party tonight.


Me: How are you doing?

Local: That’s right. That’s right, man…



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