Yngvild and the Forest of Dreams

Stormy Seas

Noren reckoned that we wanted to go to the southern most tip of Grunwald, which was just forest. It was a long way on foot from Knarvik. So we set about persuading Bjorn to ask for us to be dropped off by boat. He was the one with the relationship with the owners of the Thunderbird.

While Noren was at that I tried an alternative tack. I went up on deck and found a place in the prow of the ship. We were sailing slightly west of south, with the Eastern coast of Grunwald off our starboard, a long smudge on the horizon. Thunderbird was quartering the south westerly wind, and we had full sail up. Although we were out in open water the sea was relatively calm.

I touched the ring my mother had given me and thought about storms over the horizon between us and Knarvik. Something a little nasty looking that would perhaps make us take shelter in a bay.

I spent most of the morning staring at the clouds on the horizon and willing them to turn into a storm. By lunchtime it looked like the cloud in the distance seemed to darken as it came to us. The waves had risen and the ship was starting to roll over them rather than just cutting through. I thought the sails slackened a little too.

Shouts from the ship's officers trimmed the sails and the ship tacked slightly West of our current course. The wind was veering.

I concentrated more on a storm front coming in. The longer I concentrated the easier it became as I could see what I'd visualised before me.

We tacked again, this time more noticeably towards the coast. It was working. Sailors began reefing sail.

The storm was coming in faster than I had expected, it seemed to be gaining speed. I didn't want it to overtake us, just divert us. So I imagined it slowing down and maintaining station to herd us into the coast.

'Excuse me, I think you should go below before that storm hits.' a sailor said.

'I will, but I'd like to watch it a little longer.' I said. Behind her I could see the crew were tying down hatches and deck cargo.

The storm didn't seem to be losing much momentum. The sea had risen even more, and the ship was climbing hills diagonally as each wave passed us. With each wave the hull creaked as the wood warped and returned to its shape. I thought about the storm slackening and passing well behind us.

The coast was closer. It had grown from a smudge into a visible line of low green hills.

'Hold tight, we're about to come about!' an officer shouted.

I braced myself in the prow and thought more about the storm abating and blowing astern of us. The Thunderbird pitched and pivoted sharply starboard with some disturbing creaks. We were heading straight towards land. The waves were now coming from behind us, as was the wind.

More sail went on to gather speed to let us run ahead of the storm. The coast became clearer. I could see the green resolve into trees.

Flat calm. Flat calm. Flat calm.

I went astern from my place in the prow so that I could still see the storm front. Most of the crew seemed to be on watch, either lashed into the rigging or helping to keep lines trimmed on the deck. The pitching and yawing had subsided now that we were running directly ahead of the storm onto the land.

The storm front was only a few miles away. We seemed to be keeping pace with it. On the stern I found Old Bjorn with Bergliot, the steersman of the Thunderbird and the other co-owner who was acting as Captain.

'There's a sheltered bay just North of the course we're on, and rocks to the South.' Old Bjorn said. 'We should put in there until it blows over.'

'I've never seen one like this come on so fast in the summer!' said the steersman, adjusting the rudder to take us slightly to the North.

I willed the storm to abate and let us get to safety.

'Yes, it's unusual. Didn't your lookout spot any odd weather earlier?'

'He did, but I thought we'd be able to make it round the point before turning away from it.' Bergliot said. 'It seemed to accelerate after we spotted it.'

'It happens sometimes. Best we pray to Kari for our salvation.'

With that a loud splintering sound rent the air. The main mast tore free of its mounting and sagged. The rigging kept it from falling, but several sailors lashed to it dangled in free air, kicking and flailing for holds to get them to safety.

'Bring the sails in!' Shouted the Captain.

'Oars! Get the Oars out!' Bergliot shouted.

Now the storm was catching us up. The lost mast had robbed us of the speed we'd had.

Above the sailors on the rigging hauled the sails up and lashed them to the masts. Those on the main mast simply cut the sail loose and climbed down before the rigging gave way.

Sailors on the deck tied off the lines they were trimming and went below.

Make it calm! Make it calm!

The storm front would be on us in minutes. The ship was pitching with the waves again. We'd sat atop them when the sail was up. Now they were washing against the stern and water was being thrown over the gunwhales before washing back over the side.

Old Bjorn grabbed me and passed a rope through my belt. He passed it through his own and then tied both ends round a substantial looking railing.

'Hold tight, it's going to get very rough!' he shouted.

I could barely hear him, the storm had got loud. Waves were crashing into the ship, which was creaking in response, and the wind shrieked, flapping the main sail. Looking back the steersman had been joined by another sailor. They were both tied onto the ship, and leaning hard on the rudder to keep the ship on course.

The ship lurched suddenly, and I came off the deck, before slamming back into it. While I was in the air I saw the oars come out of the water. It wasn't as fast as the sail had been, but we were moving. The time between each wave crashing got slightly longer. Rain started falling onto the deck, big heaving drops, easily distinguishable from the spray by the size and regularity of their impacts.

The Thunderbird got closer to the shore, although it was hard to make out the detail through the mist and rain. The wind and waves made it hard to hear anything else. I just kept on willing it to be calm. Old Bjorn shook me to attract my attention.

He gestured rather than spoke, waving his hand to the right, and then flattening the palm down. I couldn't quite work out what he was trying to tell me. The ship leant slightly to the right as it turned, and then it yawed alarmingly left, a large wave crashed over the side of the ship, submerging me and Old Bjorn. It took all my effort to hold onto the railing, I was feet down still in contact with the deck. We weren't going to make it.

The wave washed down the other side of the ship and I scrambled to brace my feet onto the railing. I was going to need to cut myself free if the ship was going down.

Then the ship righted itself. The oars sped up, and the Thunderbird leapt into the lee of a rocky headland, the next wave hitting only the stern and skewing our course slightly. In front of us the sea was calm. The headland sheltered us from both the wind and the waves.

I breathed a sigh of relief.