Page 6 of Under the Arabian Sky

Or the one beyond that.

Sand was, in essence, a moving sculpture.

Constantly changing the scape of our land.

Constantly shifting shapes.

Constantly evolving.

My cabin on the freighter was dank and far too close to the engine room to get any real sleep, so I ended up taking a pillow back to my quiet spot at the stern of the ship, nestled between two lifeboats. If I lay on my back, I had a perfect view of the stars. With every mile we travelled, I felt the night sky fill with the heat of the Middle East.

I aimed my camera at the heavens.

I snapped a pic of Orion’s Belt shimmering amongst the stars.

I couldn’t help but think of Andrew, somewhere up there in the heavens, while I was way down here, sailing past the shifting sands.

Slowly I drifted off to sleep, thinking how proud Andrew would be at the thought of me embarking on such a grand adventure, sailing toward the Gulf of Aden as the salty air of the Red Sea filled my senses and the engine of the freighter thrummed through my bones.

As I slept, the heat intensified, radiating off the deserts that surrounded the gulf on all sides. I woke sometime just before sunrise, my shirt drenched with sweat. A feeble ocean breeze tried to fight the heat, but the fumes from the freighter’s exhaust stack only served to thicken the air and increase the temperature even more.

Soon the darkness gave way to the pale blue of dawn.

On the horizon, pinks and yellows took over the sky.

The rocky outline of the shore turned from a silhouette into a more defined landscape minute by minute.

We were cruising up the coast of Oman toward the capital. The sun hadn’t even made its appearance, and yet the mercury was already well and truly above anything I had experienced before.

One of the ship’s crew passed me by and I said, “Excuse me… this heat… is it normally like this before sunrise? Or is today unusually hot for some reason?”

The crew member gave a hearty laugh. “Welcome to Oman. This is what August feels like. Be warned, it’s going to be a hundred and thirty today.”

“A hundred and thirty? What is that in Celsius?”

“About fifty-five degrees.” As the crew member went about his business, he called back over his shoulder, “You might want to put a hat on.”

A hat? God, I hadn’t even thought about a hat. I’d never ventured into the field, so of course I didn’t even own a hat, at least not one that could fend off fifty-five-degree heat.

I felt unprepared.

I felt stupid and helpless.

I felt like I shouldn’t have even been there.

At that moment, the first sliver of sunlight appeared on the horizon, bright and dazzling, spilling liquid gold across the sea. The temperature increased with the mere presence of that fiery ball in the sky, getting hotter and hotter as the sun rose to its full glory, heralding the start of a new day in Arabia.

I jumped with a start as the ship’s horn shattered the peace of the gulf.

I looked out to see a city in the distance, a curved harbour and seawall breaking up the stretch of rocky coastline.

My voyage was coming to an end.

The ship began to turn toward the port city of Muscat.

I headed below deck and gathered my belongings, trying to keep my nerves in check as I wondered what on earth lay ahead of me.

CHAPTER5

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