Day 116
Jacob sat in the great lodge with the sm’ooygit, as he had done for the last five days. The sm’ooygit pointed to the sky and the ground and started waving his arms around while speaking to Jacob in Salish. Like the days before, Jacob stood up, took a bow, gestured a thank-you, and left.
When he came back to us, we asked him what the sm’ooygit had said. Like the other days, Jacob replied, “I have no idea,” and then walked away.
I called out after him, somewhat amused. “I hope there isn’t a test after this.”
“Very funny,” he replied.
Each day we were getting stronger and stronger. Having a variety of foods to eat can do that. Also, having people around who love you and care about you can also do that.
The Salish people seemed to love us. I wondered if they thought we were spirits from another world. We’ll never really know. We made it a point never to show our twenty-first-century items. Our clothes were strange enough for them. The sight of an iPhone would have been too much.
Every day, Jacob, Tom, and Andy would go off to do activities with the Salish men. We would go with the women and learn the different ways to cook, as well as to preserve, certain foods for the winter. They also taught us how to sew and mend our clothing. In a short time, we began to dress like them.
On that day, the six of us decided that if the Salish would have us, we would spend the winter there and learn as many skills as we could to get us ready to head south in the spring.
Day 180
On this day the cold rain had turned to snow. Winter had officially arrived. Life with the Salish people had been an incredible experience. They were such hard workers, men and women alike. Their sense of community was admirable, and every single person in their tribe had a purpose that was appreciated and recognized by one another. We’d started to learn their language now, and it was getting easier by the day to communicate.
Whenever I had a chance, I sneaked the iPhone and took pictures. I was usually quite far away, so as not to cause any confusion or fear. It wasn’t exactly easy to hide a bright orange plastic phone case.
I’d been making a point of writing every day since we arrived; to document what life was like here. The Salish people had no written language, so they were quite intrigued when they saw me writing on paper.
Keara had started recovering more feeling in her hand now, and on this day she was able to move one of her other injured fingers. I prayed for her that someday soon her hand would be back to normal. I felt so sad for her. She tried as hard as she could, but it just didn’t function the way it used to. The other day she tried to write a note to Tom, but found it almost impossible.
The six of us had now been given our own small lodge to call home. Each night Jacob and I shared a bed, as did Keara and Tom, and Kim and Andy. I wondered if things would have been different if Jacob and I had not been in love. The truth was I truly believed we were soul mates. It just took the right nudge to bring people together. I knew Keara and Kim were happy. Tom and Andy thought the world of them. I knew they were probably as happy as I was.
Day 203
This was the day; Jacob was getting a tattoo on his arm. A Salish elder used a pointed stick to push the blue ink into his skin. I cringed every time I looked over toward him. I could tell by the look on face how much pain he was in. But he sat there, taking it like a man. It was the shape of the moon. We were convinced the Salish believed we were moon spirits who had come here to learn their ways. After all, we were all Caucasian, except for Kim. I don’t think they really knew what to make of her.
Day 255
In a short time, Jacob and the others had become quite the sailors. Each day they went out on the boats fishing with the other Salish men. The plan was to build two boats so we could sail our way down the coast, toward Baja. This was all Jacob would talk about now, and how he wanted to get started right away. We were not sure how long this would take, but we were not in a rush.
Day 256
Jacob, Tom and Andy started work on our dugout boats today. I offered my help, and Jacob took my hand and showed me how to swing the curved ax head to peel away the wood inside the tree log. At this rate, it would take weeks before the boats were ready to sail. Regardless, it was a change from what I was doing, and it was good to spend more one-on-one time with Jacob. It was hard work and I wasn’t used to using tools. My arms paid the price in the coming days.
Day 270
What I hated most was that there was never any time alone. I would have liked to be alone with Jacob. I knew Keara and Kim shared the same thoughts. We loved our men, and there were times we just wanted to be alone and not have to share our space with others. Besides working on the boats, I still had to do all the other things a Salish woman had to do. I’d been helping to care for a newborn child who came into this world two weeks ago. The boy was so fragile; it was hard to believe that a baby could survive in this world. The mother had tied a small wooden plank across the forehead of the baby. Pressing and shaping the forehead flatter made the face more attractive to the Salish people.
Day 291
Spring had arrived, and in no time, summer would be here. Our main objective now was to get ready to head south.
Today we finished the two boats and stood around admiring our workmanship. They looked as though they could do the job we built them for. Jacob and the boys added a rudder and two outrider’s pontoons to each side of the canoes, as you would find on boats built in the Hawaiian Islands. We also added a sail to each boat, using two of the large groundsheets we had. We disagreed on how long they would last as sails. The other Salish men found this to be a strange addition, but were very interested in seeing how it worked. If all went as planned, we’d be able to sail down the coast in record time, stopping only at night to rest. This way we’d miss any of the other tribes along the West Coast. Our concern was that not all the tribes would be as friendly as the Salish had been.
We stayed with the Salish for almost two hundred days, and we now felt like part of their family. We would miss them a great deal, and I couldn’t seem to find enough words to express how grateful we were to them for everything they had done for us. The time had come for their spirit friends to move on.
As night fell on our last day, we dressed in our twenty-first-century clothes and prepared to say good-bye. The old clothes felt strange on our skin, but regardless of their ragged shape, we knew they were our best protection from the ocean, and any other elements we might encounter along the way. I wondered what Baja would be like. Would it be all we hoped for, or would we be disappointed? Would the six of us be happy? I truly hoped so.
Day 292
That morning we said good-bye to our Salish family. Like our families from our real time, we would never see these people again. We were all very sad. As was now common, Kim, Keara, and I couldn’t stop our tears. We hugged our new family and then slowly boarded the boats that would take us to Baja. We had two weeks of supplies to take with us on our journey south. From that point on, we would have to fish and get what we needed from the sea. With luck, the wind would be at our back and, according to Jacob’s calculations, push us south at seventy miles a day. The morning couldn’t have been more perfect. Thunderbird, the sky god, had given us a grand send-off.
The chief walked up to us and, for the first time, gave us each a hug. This was something we had never seen before from him. We each thanked him, and his family, for all they had done for us. They had saved six lost souls.
We pushed our two boats into the water and unfurled the blue sails. That day every man, woman, and child came out to see us on our way. I wondered how, or if, we would be remembered in any of their songs or stories. Would they talk about the strange spirit people they encountered? How they had taught the visitors their way of life so that they could return to their home much wiser than when they had first arrived at their village?
The morning breeze quickly took hold of our sails and started us out on our journey. Within a short time, the Salish people had faded into the distance. Keara, Jacob, and I rode on the first boat, while Tom, Andy, and Kim followed behind on the second one. In a perfect world, we would make the shores of Long Beach in fourteen or fifteen days. From there to Baja, we had no clue how far it would be. Just to be on the safe side, we added fifteen more days to the time line. We didn’t know how bad the waves would be this time of year, and added a few more days should we have to sit onshore as sea conditions improved. Regardless, in one month we hoped to be safe and sitting on the beach, watching the sun set.
That day, I steered the rudder as Keara and Jacob took turns controlling the sail. The boats had been well tested before we started this journey, and we were all so proud of what we had built. They worked outstandingly well!
Later that night we made landfall. It was a good first day. We felt happy and very relieved. If Thunderbird stayed by our side, we would make the trip in good time. That night we slept under the stars. This was something we had not done while living with the Salish. We would normally return to our lodge each night and curl up under our animal furs to stay warm.
That night, as we lay looking up at the sky, Jacob pointed to the stars and tried to name the constellations. But, he knew as I did that he didn’t have a clue. One star to Jacob was like all the rest. But it didn’t matter. We just enjoyed talking for hours about almost anything.
Day 311
We were pretty sure we were off the coast of Santa Barbara. The sun was so intense that we could feel it burning our skin, which was already dry and cracked from the salt water. Our lips were sore and bleeding. As you can guess, with six people sharing two small boats, we had lost all sense of shame or embarrassment. I had diarrhea for the past two days. Jacob thought it was from spoiled food I shouldn’t have eaten. I was weak, but I knew I would survive. Jacob kept giving me fresh water to keep my strength up. By nightfall, we would make land again, and I would finally be able to rest and hopefully recover in the next few days.
Day 315
We were going to head inland for the night, but as it got darker, we noticed lights coming from the shore. There were people, but we had no way of knowing who or what they were and whether or not they would befriend us. We unanimously made the decision to keep going and took advantage of the full moon to guide us through the night. I lay next to Jacob as he steered the boat. On this night Kim slept at the front of the boat. It’s funny, all these years later and I still see her there, all alone, she had this smile on her face as she was dreaming. The waters were calm, and as we sailed in the darkness, we could faintly make out the shapes of dolphins as they broke the water. It felt so good to be alive.
Day 321
Tom thought he spotted something on the horizon. Jacob pulled out his binoculars to take a better look.
“Holy crap, it’s a ship!” Jacob screamed. “It’s a fucking ship!”
There it was, coming slowly over the horizon toward us. Would they see our blue sails, or pass us by? It was a large galleon ship with white sails. Never before had I seen anything like this. Not in real time anyway. It was amazing!
“What do we do?” Andy called out from the other boat.
“Do we wave for help or what?” Tom asked
I looked at Jacob. “Well…what do we do?”
Jacob stood there, speechless. I could tell he was thinking, planning what the next move would be.
Then he ordered, “Strip off any clothing they could question as strange!”
Kim replied, “What?”
“Just do it already!”
We quickly stripped our brightly coloured clothing and got down to tattered T-shirts.
The galleon had spotted us. It slowly turned course and began sailing toward us. As they got closer, they started to drop their sails. We could see a gold-and-red crest on a white flag.
“What flag is that?” Kim asked.
“Not sure, it’s not French or British,” Jacob said.
“How about Spain?” I said.
“Good call, Trinity,” Jacob replied as he worked his way to the front of our boat.
The ship was now four hundred feet or so away from us.
“Jacob? Looking for some guidance here!” yelled Tom.
“Start waving,” ordered Jacob
So we waved. Andy took this very seriously and waved so much that he lost his balance and almost fell off of his boat.
We, too, dropped our sails and started to slow down. A man wearing a strange metal helmet called out to us in Spanish.
“Great, doesn’t anyone speak English?” asked Andy.
“Can you shut the Fuck up!” yelled Kim.
“It’s Spanish, I said. “He’s asking us who we are and where we are going.” My mother and father had wanted me to learn a second language, so I went to a Spanish-English school during elementary and junior high. It was their way of maintaining my mom’s Latin roots.
A second man stepped forward. I think he was the captain. He had a large white feather in his hat. The ship was about a hundred feet away now.
“Tell him we’re heading to the mainland,” Jacob said to me.
I yelled back, “Nos dirigimos a la isla principal!”
He couldn’t hear me, so a man standing next to him repeated what I had said. The captain yelled back in Spanish.
“What did he say?” asked Jacob.
“He thinks we’re lost.”
“Ask him where they are going.”
“¿A dónde van?” I called back.
“A la China,” he replied.
“China,” I said.
“Thank you, I think we got that,” Jacob said sarcastically.
The captain yelled again. “Veo que has estado allí. Ya tienes una esclava China.”
“He thinks we were in China since we have a slave.” We all looked at Kim.
“Not funny!” Kim said in a soft voice.
“El mar no es lugar para la mujer!” yelled the captain.
“He doesn’t think the ocean is a place for women,” I said.
“Tell him, ‘My husband agrees with you,’” Jacob replied.
“Mi marido está de acuerdo,” I called back. We could hear some of the crew laughing.
“El hombre por qué no habla?”
“He asked why you don’t speak.”
“Tell him you are my Spanish love and only you can speak Spanish.”
“Okay,” I said. “Mi marido es un tonto y no puede hablar Español, Pero me ama.”
The entire crew began to laugh.
“What did you say?” demanded Jacob.
“I told him you’re a fool and can’t speak Spanish.”
Jacob bowed to the captain and the crew. They laughed even louder. By now, the ship was passing us by.
Jacob yelled to me, “Ask him how far the mainland is from here.”
“El tonto de mi marido quiere saber a qué distancia de aquí, queda la tierra firme?”
“Estamos a dos días de Mazatlán.”
“They are two days out of Mazatlán,” I said.
He went on to say that once we cleared the peninsula, we should head straight east.
“Please thank him,” Jacob said to me.
“¡Muchas gracias!”
The captain had worked his way to the back of his ship by now.
Jacob called to me, “Ask him what the year is.”
“Capitán, ¿qué año es?” I asked.
“Qué?”
I called back, “¿Cuál es la fecha?,” which translated to “what is the date?” in English.
“Es el año de nuestro señor vigésimo de mayo de mil setecientos cuarenta”
“Gracias!” I yelled out.
The ship started to hoist their sails again.
“What year is it?” Jacob asked frantically.
We could see the captain waving to us.
“What year is it?” Keara yelled.
I looked at my friends and then said, “It is the year of our Lord seventeen forty, May twentieth.”
There we had it! No fanfare, just matter-of-fact: 274 years had passed us by. No one said a word. We sat there. All we could hear was the sound of the sea, the wind in the air, and the folded sails rustling.
None of us said a word. What could we possibly say? It was as though a giant weight had been lifted off of us. We could now breathe again. Everyone we knew wouldn’t be born for another 225 years. Now at least we had enough information to create a plan. We could begin to live again. It was funny. We spent that last year trying to make Baja, and there it was, just around the corner, and then it all had changed.
“Where to, Captain?” called out Tom.
“Mexico,” Jacob said.
“I think you mean New Spain!” Tom yelled back.
“Mazatlán,” Jacob replied.
Day 323
May 23, 1740. We sailed into the harbour of Mazatlán. The excitement had been building for the last few days. Knowing our place in time was huge. Seeing land and being in New Spain was amazing, almost unbelievable. This was the first thing that seemed real to us. We docked and tied the boats at a small wood pier. As we started to off-load our packs and few belongings, a short, plump, balding man came to us. He looked at us as if we were animals. Granted, you could smell us a mile away.
He said, “Acoplamiento de botes impuestos tres pesos.”
“He wants three pesos for docking the boats here,” I said.
“Tell him, good news, the boats are his. Take good care of them,” said Jacob.
“Los barcos son suyos.”
And with that we took our belongings and walked down the long wooden dock, away from the small man, our boats, and our only connection to the Salish. Those boats had been our lifeline. I could tell Jacob was proud. We had done the impossible and made it in one piece.
Thank you, Thunderbird. Thank you, God. Thank you for watching over your children. Thank you for keeping us strong, thank you for such great friends, and thank you for bringing Jacob into my life.
As we slowly walked into old Mazatlán, it quickly hit us that we would have to find money, new clothes, and a place to stay.