Getting My Sailboat Through the Tunnel
Dream | December 12, 2009
I'm in Italy. I have a sailboat on the Adriatic side of the peninsula, sitting in a little marina, and I need to get it to the Mediterranean side. Normally you'd sail around the boot in a couple days or so but since Italy was only a mile or so across at this point there was a tunnel through which boats could be transported.
I rode into a cute little marina on the Mediterranean side with some friends on some camels. It was dusk and a bluish tone was settling over the small town adjacent to the harbor. My friends go tooling around near the beach and I've got to arrange to get my boat.
From the mountainside the tunnel ended in a building with large glass windows. I head into the building but realize I need to change out of my travel clothes, so I head into the tunnel to find a restroom or something. Some official in a booth waves at me and says something in Italian as if I'm not supposed to go in there. But I'm already gone.
In the darkness of the shaft I see a brightly lit room on the right and inside is a library and glass closet. I go in and start changing. About when I'm done I hear footsteps out in the corridor and voices and I think they were looking for me. So I sit down on a stool and pretend to look innocent.
In strolls a hefty looking official who appears to be the same guy who tried to flag me down. With him is an older woman. He's speaking to me in Italian but it sounds much like Spanish and I'm trying to translate. He tells me my boat is caught on a vent as it was passing through the tunnel and I ask him why don't they fix it? He tells me just come and look.
We go into the tunnel and my sailboat is there with the masts collapsed. Lights illuminate the ceiling into the distance like the glowing spine of huge snake. We drop down below the floor into a service passageway and above us is a long row of metal grates that run down the length of it. Quite clearly the keel of the boat has caught on one of these grates and we work it free by unscrewing something. Then the boat lurches forward above us on its journey.
The official and I run back towards the terminus and into an office where we have to do some paperwork. Again he's speaking in Italian but luckily this time there are subtitles in my dream and this fellow is pointing to each word as he says it. In this way I'm able to both understand him and make the etymological connection between Italian and Spanish.
So eventually my sailboat comes through and I've got to wash it. They have a washing service but I'm like, fuck it, I'll do it myself by having it lowered into the water and scrubbing it with some pool brushes.
The dream ends with me hoisting up the sails and navigating into the Mediterranean.