I am with a group of people of diverse ages, not strangers. As part of a journey the origin of which I forget, we approach the sea shore. I notice that behind the expected low coastal islands there are some much higher peaks, of a glowing orange tan in the late afternoon sun. I comment that it looks like Atlantis has risen from the sea.
As we get closer it becomes apparent that what we are seeing is not a new mountainous island, but a very large off-white cruise ship right up against a small island. As we approach the ship we notice someone tumble from a scaffolding being lowered down the ship's side. He is a pudgy person dressed in a green quilted parka with a fur lined hood - well padded in other words. He falls into a pile of snow next to the ship. We are too far away to tell if he has been hurt or not.
We start to climb the sloping side of the ship's superstructure. When we get about half way up I realize that we are climbing on old, dirty snow. I decide we have to stop because if we started to slip, we might not be able to stop ourselves before going off the side of the ship. It is a moment of real fear.
We start to reconnoiter another possible route. To our left, aft on the ship appears promising, as the slope gets less steep there. A couple of the teenage boys who are with us start deliberately sliding downhill on their big winter boots. The sense of impending doom eases.
Someone points out my outboard motor, and I start discussing whether to get a new one.
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