MILFORD SOUND

He realizes that he has become the main character in an adventure story—standing at the prow of the ship with his hair pulled back. He’s wearing a wool sweater and rust-red pants, fingers bejeweled by rings, gripping the railing.

The ocean is jade green, glistening.

He stands in silent awe.

Mountains of mythical proportion rise, jutting from the sea, on either side, stretching toward God in his clouded throne, sheer walls of stone and deep divided canyons, cliff edges dense with bizarre shrubs and damp hanging trees, waterfalls and rainbows, shimmering brilliantly beneath an impossibly clear sky.

The spectacle is nothing short of blaspheme—stupendous, incomparable beauty, stealing souls from a bored Heaven—spirits sunder, murmuring goodbye as they stretch toward wonder.

A reluctant rapture resounds within each beating heart, stirring life amid the nautical dead, dolphins splashing, singing, and all of the sudden Heaven seems so dreary with it’s clouds and harps and riches as we sail betwixt the jaws of astonishment.

He and his friend are silent, watching as the spectacle unfolds before their eyes like a rolled-painting—this dreamers voyage through Paradise—snow kissed peaks, plumes of vibrant green flora, vistas of staggering height, sandy shores, boulders, prisms of light—a fantasy landscapes ripped from the canvas of an unseen Frazetta—glittering in front of them.

He watches his shadow as the ship heaves into open water, rolling beneath deck, a turquois sheet of swelling life, clear, warm—impregnated with shifting, gleaming facets, as a jewel or an adoring eye, winking, impassioned.

He has been changed—potential learned, beauty discovered—he’s come this far, wizened, enlightened, rejuvenated. His friend stands beside him, a good man, a loyal man. Here they are, shifting as the water, gleaming—brimming with life.

Robert has saved my ass—loyal friend—from the strain of poverty, he has been strong, dependable. We met two weeks ago in The Bay of Islands, bunkmates, met again in Queenstown, and here we stand beside one another on the verge of decisions and existence, at this marvelous creation—

Numb.