Boating the Amethyst Maelstrom

        I dreamed that N and I were in boats headed out to where there were some large gemstone islands, green, purple and pink crystals jutted out of the sea. As we neared the place I could see the shore wasn’t really a shore, but a thin layer of purple amethyst crystals about three millimeters thick. N wanted to plow through it, but I wanted to carefully cut away large sheets of the material, as I thought it had some very unique features that would make it sell to collectors for far more than the value of the crystals themselves. I was fairly certain the flat field of crystals was unique.

        N, from her boat, started breaking the formation up, while I carefully pulled the sheets of material aboard my boat, stacking them with paper and foam between the layers to help protect them from bumps.

        I heard a yelp from N, way out in front of me, she’d been aimed directly for a large green garnet, but was shouting something I couldn’t make out as she pointed over the side of her boat.

        I saw her boat dip down a trough out of sight and shortly after I knew why. She’d uncovered a maelstrom. My boat dipped over the lip of the swirling storm and shot down the sloping wall of water. The thin crystalline sheets rained down around us from the edges of the swirling funnel. I managed to get the boat turned so I wasn’t racing towards the center of the swirling water, but couldn’t get enough power from the motor to climb out of the dip.

I could see the funnel was slowly flattening out, but I didn’t think that would happen fast enough for us to escape. N’s boat was opposite mine, and it was obvious she was having the same trouble and I had an idea. I had a long pole, used when the boat was near shore, I unshipped it and set it into a divot in the deck and stretched it over to N’s boat, bracing it against her mid-deck.

        “Set yours between us, too,” I shouted into the raging wind, but she didn’t seem to understand what I was asking. “With both poles we can keep the boats aimed perpendicular to the funnel and we can ride out the storm!” I shouted, and hoped.

        Nan pulled out her pole, but used it, instead, to skull her boat , adding its power to the power of her motor, trying to get out of the storm. This had the effect, as long as my pole was connected, of pulling me more towards the center.

        This dream is so obviously symbolic it isn’t even funny.