He fell

Somelsewhere

Peter’s small sailing dinghy bucked and bounced in the roaring wind as it dropped through bright rippling space. His stomach lurched for several heartbeats, and he held tight to the mainsheet and tiller, until his sailboat slapped down hard into the water, tossed like a toy in a giant’s bath.

Holy heck!

Peter tucked his chin to his chest as he lurched forward, braced by rope and tiller in his hands. His feet slipped from the floor straps, and he brought his arms up to protect his head as he crashed to the bottom of The Jupiter’s cockpit. He shook his head to clear the flying spray from his eyes, then worked the rudder and slipped back onto the side of the small sailboat — ready for anything.

What just happened?

As the chaotic wind died, the sail flapped and cracked one last time, then fell silent. The sailboat no longer surged ahead but sat dead in the water. Peter raised his head.

The fierce wind and spray fell away and above him the sky brightened as clouds dispersed. The air cleared, but an encircling wall of mist stood high all around. Then it too shimmered to clarity like a shaken bottle of fizz. Peter saw no land at first — instead blue water glowed before him until it reached the fading ring of white mist.

What is this place?

As he squinted across the stern of his small dinghy, a break in the veiling fog opened, and he made out a tall black spire of stone that rose high before him. A green fringing forest emerged next — ringed by a white sand beach that stretched from forest to lagoon.

Where the heck did that come from?

A warm breeze pushed at Peter’s sailboat and carried the land’s earthy scent towards him.

Like the tropical greenhouse in Hagley Park?

The wind spun Peter’s sailboat and he turned his head to keep the black spire in view. Then he lowered his hand to the sea. It felt warm, almost silky, and lacking the bite of his home waters of Aotearoa — of New Zealand.

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No way this is Lyttleton harbour.

He patted the hull of The Jupiter and stared through the veiling mist.

Where on Earth have you taken me?

Movement off to starboard caught his attention, a large blue-black shape broke the water surface. An eye stared from a broad flat body that shimmered with beaded water slicking from a furred head. Peter stared back as the sea creature regarded him without a blink.

His enchantment broke with a start when a stingray-like fin slapped the water as the huge creature shot toward him.

Sudden fear shocked him to action.

I have to get away… out of the water… Heck! To anywhere else.

He twisted the rudder back and forth to push The Jupiter further from the beast. A catspaw of wind ruffled the sea surface and he adjusted the sail — it drew air — enough to get steerageway. The Jupiter responded and he aimed for the tall black spire of rock.

He sailed as fast as he could, but it was impossible to out-race the sea beast. Instead the animal circled, sometimes under the boat, other times in front.

Peter pulled up the boat’s centerboard as he came into shore — the water now shelved into azure shallows. The wind stiffened and he leaned out enough to keep the boat level. Without the centerboard The Jupiter crabbed sideways — but land lay close by now. He could almost reach out to the soft sand beach.

There were few waves and so, with the tiller, pushed away at the last moment, The Jupiter twisted into the wind, and the hull slid up onto white sand.

Peter jumped out as if in a race, fearful of the creature somehow getting to him. He pulled the boat up the bright beach. The rudder left a furrow in the sand — he had forgotten to remove it from the stern pivots. The sea beast swam near. Waves from its passing washed up over the sand, and smoothed out the furrow. It seemed as if his boat had appeared not from the sea, but from thin air.

Only meters away, the huge creature dashed back and forth through the water as if frustrated to have not caught him. With a burst of speed it broke the surface and for a brief moment became airborne.

‘A manta ray!’ Peter shouted in surprise.

But as it leaped high he saw it did not look like any ray he had seen before. Iridescence sparkled with flashing colors — like a fish, or bird. It slapped into the water and the brilliant shadow darted off through the rippling surface of the blue-blue sea.

Peter sat with a thump onto the sand and leant back against The Jupiter’s hull.

‘What is this place?’

Without conscious thought he touched the leather bag strung on a cord about his neck. Within lay his grandfather’s niho taniwha pendant. The carved Maori greenstone tooth of the taniwha guardian spirit had kept his grandfather from danger. The toanga — the precious relic, had passed that guardianship to him upon his Granbam's death, he sensed the old man’s mana — his elemental strength and identity forged through a long life of service, honor, and care.

But now? Here, so far from home — would the protection still aid him?

An empty hole opened in his gut and he shivered despite the heat.

How the heck did I get here?

And where is… here?