How many hearts were lost at sea?
Before we flew, we strung some old cloth to a bunch of dead trees, flung them in the ocean, and clung on tight. Fortunes were made and lost on the high seas.
Many a maiden looked across the harbour, hoping to see the dove-white flash of a topsail on the horizon; their heart returned.
Most waited in vain.
The thing about waiting for our ship to come in is there’s nothing we can do about it. We can gnash our teeth and wail and pray and beg, but that only makes us feel better about our helplessness.
Building a boat isn’t easy. It will take a long time, a year or two minimum. There will be many splinters and bruised thumbs and cursing along the way. Even if we finish it in time, there’s no telling that it will float.
And even if floats, that could spell the end for us.
We could drown, far away from where we began, wet and cold and alone and wishing we’d taken some navigation courses while we were building our boat.
But it sure beats waiting for your ship to come in.