Flight of the Argonauts: Part 3 of 3

Dream Info: November 18, 1998
Realism Intensity: 3
Content: R

The third dream in this Sequence: While not required, reading the first part will help explain some of the significances of this dream.

Part III:

Three large wood frigates floated out bay doors in the side of a giant rust colored building. This building sat perched on the top of a stony mountain. These ships unfurled their sails, turned south, and soared through the air heading over the jagged mountain range. After the ships crossed the last peaks they slowly sank through the air towards the meandering river lying thousands of feet below in the fertile valley. The huge ships plunged into the wide river, causing their hulls to shake and groan; the bow dipped and then leveled. Water splashed over the sides. The frigates continued down the river and into the ocean.

I stood on the bow of the lead ship as we sailed towards the horizon. I watched the jagged mountains that had filled the sky slowly shrink and eventually vanish.

I was on my way. I was one step closer to finding her. I was running out of places to search.

The passengers were all gathering to one side of the boat. Curious, I thrust my way through the crowd. A large rock formation, barely breaking the surface of the water, lay off our portside. On the rocks lay a large mass of walruses. All the tourists were snapping pictures hurriedly. I laughed to myself.

Let them get excited about the walruses I thought. I just wanted to sleep. To this point it had already been a long voyage.

I woke to a crewmember shaking me urgently. He told me to abandon ship, that we had been attacked. How was that possible when I had not heard a thing? I dressed and rushed topside; my mind still in a sleepy daze. All was a blur. I found myself, when my mind finally cleared its fog, hanging onto the bottom of a giant blimp. I was at the back and near the large propellers that lifted the craft into the sky. Behind us, the top of our ships masts struck out of the sea at an odd angle. The ship was sinking. Of the other two, there was no sign.

As I looked around I noticed the captain was next to me and looked none too happy. Hundreds of people from our ship were dangling from the bottom of the craft’s thin metal frame. But something was wrong. The front of the blimp had ripped free from the frame and had just caught fire. The wind, hitting in gusts, blew the flaming fabric wildly about. In this turbulence many people fell to the frothy water, which I just noticed was not very far below.

Quickly enough the fire was extinguished. Too much of the crafts’ balloon had burned and we were losing altitude. We were only about hundred feet in the air and slowly going down. The pilot knew we were in trouble and was steering the airship back in a direction that must have been towards land. We passed over the rock outcropping covered with walruses, but this time the tourists were too panicked to notice. I swung around the craft trying to comfort people as the captain yelled orders above to the pilot who struggled to keep the craft in the air. Now and then someone’s arms gave out and they fell to the water below. Some resurfaced and could be seen swimming weakly. Some hit the water and were never seen again.

Time dragged along and the water drew closer. There: we saw the shore and the jagged mountains farther in with the sun lighting their tops. Not a moment too soon, either. Our feet we skimming the tops of the waves. The craft was still a good way out. A large wave rose high enough to grab the legs of the people in the front, dragging the whole airship suddenly down. It crashed into the rolling waves dangerously trapping many people under it.

I swam under the sinking craft, pulling people out to safety as the water pushed us towards the inlet of a narrow bay, almost a fjord.

The current swept survivors to an island pressed up against the base of some cliffs. Sea lions lined the beach and up on the grassy center stood a group of large buffalo. Many of the survivors tried to climb onto the island, but the inhabitant sea lions rushed anyone attempting to crawl to safety. Many of the passengers tried to swim across the main part of the fjord, but the current was far too strong and swept them away. This island was our only chance for rest.

One of the sea lions stood up and addressed us.

“This is our beach. There is no room for you.” It said in a gruff voice.

“Please, let us on your island temporarily.” I said to it. “We have swum from out in the ocean and are extremely tired. We’ll only use the very northern tip of the island.”

It thought about this.

“Only the tip,” Growled the sea lion in acceptance.

All of the survivors crawled onto the beach of this island and lay on the rocky shore. Everything went well until some teenagers, who had recovered from the ordeal, wanted more room to sprawl out. More room: like the sandy beach the sea lions were sleeping on. A group started throwing rocks at the sea lions. More and more people joined the group trying to move the creatures off the sandy beach. The people yelled, “off dumb animals,” and threw rocks. One rock flew wide and hit a grazing buffalo. It grunted, then turned and kicked a large rock off the ground. The rock shot through the air like a cannon ball and hit one of the members of the crowd square in the chest. The person dropped to the ground dead. This only made the people angrier. They threw more rocks and started moving forward, aggressively herding the sea lions and buffaloes to one corner of the island.

The captain and I looked at each other. We knew we had just worn out our welcome. The captain ran to gather the crew together and left me to attempt to herd the passengers back.

One young man had rushed ahead of the mob and was waving a large stick at the animals, yelling “This island is for us now. You can swim, you stupid animals.” A large buffalo was slowly meandering away and the man whacked it in the rear angrily. The buffalo swung around and rammed the man in the chest. The man dropped the stick and held on to the buffalo’s head as it swung him around wildly. Luckily the man had fit in-between the horns nicely and no matter how hard the buffalo shook or jerked its’ head the man was able to keep its horns from spearing him.

After a few seconds of vain thrashing, the buffalo also realized this. It stopped shaking the man around and stood up on its hind legs. With its massive front legs it grabbed the man. The buffalo thrust him through his horns, impaling and killing him instantly. It then pulled off the limp and bleeding body and threw it at the mob of people, which knocked many over. The crowd stood in shock. Then, the large buffalo charged.

All was lost. No one heeded my cries. I surrender hope and worried about saving myself. I dove into the water, swam the twenty feet or so across to the base of the cliff and pulled myself onto a ledge slightly above the water. Surprisingly I found the ledge I was on was made of rusty metal and had a dirty hatch in it. I tried to open it but couldn’t. I then realized that it was a bathroom drain for the complex we had launched from on the other side of the mountains. If someone would just flush a toilet the hatch would open, the refuse would gush out, and I could crawl in. That hatch was safety.

I turned back to the island and saw that the animals were rampaging everywhere. Many of the passengers were diving into the main part of the fjord where the fast flowing swept them away.

A large buffalo strolled to the edge of the island and glared at me. It stood up on its hind legs and inched into the water. It was coming for me. As it approached, I pried at the hatch frantically.



A woman lay dead. Her blood ran through her beautiful blonde hair dying it red. Her shapely figure lay crumpled in one of the bathroom stalls in the rusty complex on the other side of the mountains. Her purse had fallen open in the struggle and its contents were scattered all over the bathroom floor. A man with black gloves bent over the body, shifting though documents and wallet eagerly. All gold and jewels he collected he slipped into his pocket. Documents he slid into a small black bag.

The woman had not had time to flush the toilet.

Flight of the Argonauts: Part 2 of 3

Dream Info: November 18, 1998
Realism Intensity: 3
Content: PG-13

The second dream in this Sequence: While not required, reading the first part will help explain some of the significances of this dream.

Part II:

Some friends were climbing on the ruins of the Hadrian wall in the warm summer sun. A vast flower-covered field lay infront of the wall. This wall ran into the base of a giant cliff that looked as if a giant knife had sliced the ground, and the far side had then been lifted up to tower above. The stratified rock layers were perfectly intact.

Rob Brown and I were walking and talking at the base of the ruined wall. We came to the end of the wall and waited as the girls that were with us climbed down off it. Then we continued on our way with the foothills sloping up to our left.

One of the girls in our company let out a quick shriek as a band of Indians raced over the foothill’s ridge. They were a band of warriors: faces painted and holding their spears in high. They passed a good way infront of us when one of the warriors turned his horse, trotted a few steps towards us, and let out a cry while waving his spear over his head. He then turned back and galloped after the Indian party.

We were still excitedly discussing the Indian incident when a rumble and loud clatter became audible from the ridge to our left. We stopped, slightly nervous, as a large army came marching over the ridge. Their brown and gray clothes were dusted with dirt; their muskets and gold southern Civil War insignia’s were polished and clean, though. The general rode his horse infront of the procession with his hand on his gold sword. One of his lieutenants rode next to him holding an American flag edged with gold.

The countless hundreds, if not thousands, of these brown and gray troopers marched on expressionlessly. I ran up to a side line and started harassing the soldiers with questions. None of them broke. The general turned on his horse to observe my actions towards the army.

In a gruff voice he said, “Company halt…Right flank!” The army turned and was now facing my friends and me.

The general spit, then continued, “Ready your weapons…aim and fire when ready!” He turned away and gazed at the distance as my friends and I slowly started to walk backwards in the direction we had come.

The army cocked and aimed their guns at us. We turned and ran as fast as we could. A roar exploded behind us. Impulsively I threw myself to the ground. Laughing could be heard through the gun’s roar so I turned. The army was firing their guns into the air as the general sat chuckling at us and trying to get the men back to attention.
The column slowly started its march out to the prairie fields again, the men smiling now. I wiped the dirt off my pants and started heading toward the army again. Rob and the girls timidly followed. As I neared the base of the foothill, the end of the army was coming over the ridge. All the supply wagons and cannons came trundling over the hill slowly, being pulled by people. A small boy was pulling one cannon, and as he came down the hill he lost control. It rolled down the hill dragging the boy. I rushed up to the cannon, grabbed the bar used to pull it, and tried to slow it. I wasn’t able to stop it, but I did free the boy from his harness before the cannon flipped over at the base of the hill with a loud crash.

The small boy and I emerged through the cloud of dust to find the general yelling at a group of his men responsible for the cannons. He then came over and thanked me for trying to stop the cannon, and saving the boy. He insisted that we stay and dine with them that night.
We agreed.

The sun was sinking low in the sky; the army had set up their tents and I was wandering through the midst of the camp when one of my female friends, the one with soft red hair, caught my arm.

“Trevor, there’s something on the mountain,” She exclaimed. I looked and sure enough a lone horseman sat at the edge of the peculiar cliff. As we watched, two more men rode into sight. They all had metal armor and swords at their sides.

“Should I find out what they’re doing?” She looked at me eagerly; I had no choice but to say yes. “I can change into my fox shape and crawl up that fault crack,” She continued. “They won’t even know I’m there!”

With that she was off towards the cliff. A few minutes later the dream became like an animated cartoon and I saw a small red fox crawling quickly up the crack that ran through the heart of the cliff to the top.

The fox was running along the crest when two footmen hopped out of a bush, wrapped a rope around the fox and threw her off the cliff, then disappeared into the bush again. She dangled from the rope, which had been tied to a tree.

In the light from the setting sun we saw an army of knights in light blue armor race across the top of the mountainous cliff and down its side. The sun was glinting off their polished armor. They disappeared behind the foothills.

The rest of the camp, no longer animated like a cartoon, had noticed the knights at the top of the mountain. They weren’t in the least bit happy. The whole camp swarmed to life. People were running everywhere. In the craze of the moment, my friends found and told me that they were going after the fox. I agreed to go with them, but as we ran through the chaos, I caught sight of a woman with blonde hair. I stopped, and through the crowd I saw my beautiful partner from my old job. I had heard her die… I had always assumed it had been her who had died since there had been a swarm of mobsters after her and I’d never seen her again. Obviously she was still alive, for here she was loading a cannon!

Rob yanked me out of my daze and physically forced me to leave the camp and help them save the fox. I kept turning back search for her vibrant hair among the brown and gray of the soldiers.

We slowly forced ourselves up the crack to the top of the mountain (animated again). Our characters reached the top, and we untied the fox (animation stops here). We looked out over the prairie below and saw a massive battle being fought. The blue knights and footmen swarmed and intermingled with the brown civil war soldiers. From this altitude the men looked like ants, or a shifting ocean of colored sand. It was a writhing sea of countless men. I fell to my knees as I watched, horrified. I had just lost her all over again.

But this time I wouldn’t give up hope until I had found her alive, or seen her dead body.