A Life at Sea

From: 
Story type: Past Life Experience
Location: United Kingdom
Source: Form Submission
Date submitted: Sat Sep 25 09:25:57 2010

A Life at Sea In this set of past life dreams, as a boy I joined an eighteenth century navel ship, and later in this life time I went on to be a captain of my own schooner. But unfortunately I was killed in a sword fight. In this moment of death I recalled the pain and the feeling of slowly dying.

At first I thought this lifetime was part of my seventeenth century lifetime and the witch trial (see seventeenth century witch trial). But I soon realized this was another lifetime altogether, and was one of many lifetimes. I became aware I was remembering certain fragments of past lives through my dreams, because in some way they were important. They were not the mundane happenings of every day life, but were highlights of different lifetimes of extraordinary lives. Hence the reason why there are so many gaps in my past life history.

This life time story comes from the eighteenth century and begins as a boy, and ends in a violent death at a much later age. The story is in three parts on three separate nights. The first two parts were received in dreams in the early 1970’s, but the last part was received earlier this year.

I remember as boy stepping out of a horse drawn coach at a harbour quayside, perhaps in the mid to late eighteenth century. It was a small fishing town very similar to Brixham in Devon, England. The harbour was very busy with activities.

I love crowd scenes, back then and now seeing it in my dreams, because they are a stunning sight to see. This was a full working harbour, and the centre of an industrious town. Women were busy selling fish and repairing nets. The harbour its self was full of small fishing boats. And there standing tall, towering over the fishing fleet was a naval ship. The ship I have come to join as a midshipman. I was both excited and a little anxious. I was keen to make a good impression and to perform my duties well.

In a second scene of the dream during the same night, I was taken along at night to collect the crew. It was an eerie scene late at night with a slight mist, and we carried lanterns as the only source of light. I was among fellow officers to observe the enlisting procedure. The captain seemed quite distant, whom it was ill advised to address without good reason. He seemed old with long gray hair in a pony tail down the middle of his back. The captain and officers proceeded through the streets, and waited outside of taverns for the crew to be brought out.

The dream ended and I awoke that morning to a strange phenomenon. I was still somehow continuing this past life personality. I woke up believing I was late for the ship. I confronted my mother in the kitchen for not waking me in time and making me late for the ship. She asked “What ship”?

And then it seemed in an instant I was back in the twentieth century and back in my present life.

Later I had another dream of the same past lifetime, but this time it was much later in that life. I was now the owner of a schooner. It seems I had now left the navy and had gone into business for myself. I was a captain and owner of a schooner. I was at this time unaware of the kind of cargo I was carrying. The schooner was up a river at low tide and was resting on the mud. The name Tavistock canal was in my memory.

In the dream I needed to bring the ship back down the river at high tide, but my crew were missing. I found out that someone had taken them. I didn’t know how. Whether they were bribed or pressed ganged by someone, but I was determined to get them back.

I walked alone down alongside the river at night, till I reached a tavern by the river. There I came face to face with my nemesis. I don’t quite understand how it happened but we became quickly engaged in a sword fight. He was a hard opponent to beat, but I was holding my own until a woman came out of the tavern and screamed for us to stop. I was either distracted or dropped my guard, and I was run through the stomach with his sword.

In the dream I remember the searing pain deep inside of me. In these dreams it became apparent that I could see, hear, and feel every thing, including intense pain.

I collapsed on the ground with my killer and his female accomplice looking down on me. With his arm around the women, they both scoffed at my demise. I was left alone to slowly die in the dark night air. My last memory was everything going dark as I died.

Later my research revealed that the Tavistock canal existed and ships did indeed travel up the Tamar River to dock at Morewellham Quay.

Only this year I received another piece of this puzzle. I dreamt I was visiting a plantation some where in America. I believe I was buying cotton. After the transaction was agreed the mistress of the house introduced me to a black lady to complete the paper work. The lady was surprisingly well spoken and was well educated. She was apparently in charge of the accounts and book keeping. She left me with a lasting impression.

From this dream I could now conclude that my schooner was transporting cotton directly from the plantations of America, and exporting textiles from England.

From this last dream I have a question. Does anybody living in America, know of any local history or family history where there was a black lady keeping the accounts of a cotton plantation in the early nineteenth century?

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