I set sail on the The Spirit of Natsunomeryu with the courteous captain and his crew in search of scales from the main line of Draco orientalis in Japan. I stood at the side of the majestic ship, watching the golden sun reach across the sky with its crimson and orange arms. As the salty sea breeze blew onto my face I noticed the slight smell of sulfur. Shaken by the portentous sign, I left my spot to explore the mighty ship.
In the hallways of the ship, the wood was masterfully carved, with the repeating pattern of scales and dragons. One of the ship’s crew notice me staring at the carvings. He said, “This is the captain's work. He spends all of his free time caving the hallways and the rooms.” seeing my inquisitive look he continued, “This ship when we got it wasn’t near as pretty as it is now. The head wasn’t even fully carved. The captain put his heart a soul into this ship and I hope nothing changes that.”
With those words he continued walking as though nothing had happened. Slightly surprised after hearing those words I fixed my eye-glasses and continued down the hallway in search of more hidden facts. Just then the crisp wind blew down the hallway carrying the scent of sulfur with it.
I walked around the ship and found the barracks, cargo hold, and other places. Despite
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The wind battered me and the rain felt like ice needles. The wind blew the glass off of my face. They shattered from the impacted. The sky had turned black and the clouds started to growl. Suddenly, a flash of light appeared and lit the mast on fire. For an ephemeral moment, it illuminated the scaly face of a sea dragon. With in that moment, the world stopped. I saw in full detail the garish face of the sea dragon. It had razor sharp teeth protruding from its mouth. Scales surrounded its cold reptilian eyes. It staired as though it saw the end of life and knew the pointlessness of humanity. I felt a cold wind blow through me. I could smell its sulfuric
And the boat is rather handsome sight, too.” (410). Reading on the author goes into form detail based on what others see about the steamboat, which can define that the author has interest that have fascinated himself, as one finding or interested in something else of their own. The conversational tone from the description of the steamboat, “fancy-topped chimneys, with a gilded device of some kind swung between them, all glass and gingerbread”, “the paddle boxes are gorgeous with a picture or with gilded rays above the boat's name; the boiler deck”(410). It's as if the reader is able to understand how glorified the steam boat truly is.
The imagery contrasted with the “vaingloriousness” of the ship and its passengers showcase how all the materialistic amenities and goods on the ship have no value at the bottom of the sea. The poet describes the marine life as “slimed, dumb, [and] indifferent”. Animals do not understand human desires for unnecessary aesthetically pleasing luxury items. These animals are gross and slimy, yet they still swim around these valuable items with disinterest. Another example of imagery is of the jewels lying at the bottom of the ocean. They were “designed” to be beautiful “, yet now “lie lightless” at the bottom of the sea. Under the waves, everything from the Titanic is irrelevant and loss its value. This shows that in
We mourned the ship by the wharf and ordered the captain and the crew to open the hatch ways. We had assured the captain and his men that we had no intension of harming them. As the chests were brought up from the below decks, men opened them with axes while others brought them to the sides of the ship and dumped the contents over board. This same process was repeated on each ship. This had been the hardest work he had ever done. As they had continued dumping the tea crowds gathered on the wharf as they kept going on.”
It began with the cold. Spots of cold. A moment of normal then cold, as if the heat were sucked into another dimension. These don’t bother me as much as the touch. A handless touch of nothing. Something grabbed by arm but no one was there.
“The wind had blown off, leaving a loud bright night with wings beating in he trees and a
The story possesses amazingly vivid description. This attention to detail affords the reader the greatest degree of reading pleasure. Crane paints such glorious images in reader's mind with his eloquence. "The morning appeared finally, in its splendor, with a sky of pure blue, and the sunlight flamed on the tips of waves"(387). Artistic sentences of such caliber are not often found. The reader is left with a terrific vision of the perilous sea maintaining its beauty amongst the violence of the wind. "Their back- bones had become thoroughly used to balancing in the boat and they now rode this wild colt of a dinghy like circus men"(378). Here, again, Crane uses splendid detail to capture the essence of the chaotic situation.
A strict class system imposed upon the people marked Russian society during the 18th century. The upper nobility represented only about one percent of the total population. The remaining population, approximately ninety percent of Russian society were considered to be peasants. In this peasant class, fifty-five percent of them were classified as serfs. The growing practice of serfdom bound individuals to the land due to the debt owed to the landowner from taxes. Strict adherence to these societal roles led to restrictions on an individual's freedom to make choices and decisions. Alexander Pushkin in The Captain's Daughter created a story that illuminated limitations and conflicts that stemmed from the class system in 18th century Russia.
When the ship was found deserted in the mid-Atlantic, it had two of the hatches blown off, a damaged compass and the sextant and chronometer was missing. Moreover another mystery is the fact that there in addition, was six months worth of food on the ship, when they were only going to be a week away from home. A broken clock with out its hands was found hanging, upside-down. Beds were found unmade and wet. The captain’s bed was also wet with bedding thrown about. The Captain’s sword was also found under the bed with some signs of stain on the blade. Furthermore red brown stains were also found on deck - however; these stains proved to be nothing more then rust.
Halfway up it was beginning to look doubtful, the wind was picking up and everyone was getting out rain gear to prepare for the storm. I voiced my doubts to Phil and he said we might as well keep going until the lighting got too close. So we did. The thunder grew in volume and the echoes magnified the noise to a dull roar sometimes. Then suddenly it began to ebb. The wind died down and lightening came less frequently. I exchanged relieved looks with Phil after a bit, but kept the pace up--I didn’t want to take chances. Eventually it hit us, but by then it was nothing more then a heavy rain. We kept moving, if slower, and made it over the ridge with no other problems. That night I enjoyed the meal a little more and slept a little deeper realizing how much is important that easily goes unnoticed until something threatens to take it away.
“Dragons. Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were rearing on their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting- torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks.” (p286)
In Ships in Distress off a Rocky Coast, 1667 in comparison to my ship drawing, there is the presence of imbalance as our works both create a sense of unease and movement in terms of the waves. The birds in my drawing add emphasis to the movement as well. In continuation, a further similarity in both our works is the design principle of rhythm as the repetitions of elements that we have both used creates, again, a sense of movement. On the contrary, in Ships in Distress off a Rocky Coast, 1667 by Ludolf Backhusyen in comparison to my ship drawing, there are some noticeable differences: Firstly, is the tonal value.
I was surprised when I was in the cafe, and suddenly the weather changed from a sunny afternoon to a stormy dark afternoon. I had seen many rain showers, but this one seemed different. This seemed different, because I had a different view and perspective of the storm. A storm like this had never left an impact on me.
We stared in mute amazement as ostentatious lightning, the colour of burnished gold, burst in white-bright flashes flaming against the crenellated ridge. Thunder, colliding in sheets of monstrous sound, rattled the air and practically deafened us. We just sat, timorous almost to the point of death. The wind rose to a shrieking, venomous pitch in its furious battle with mountain. The air stank of scorched stone ... ...
Suddenly, an oily breeze blew in a faint rumbling sound. Slowly, the roars that started dim and faint grew louder and more gigantic. I slumped down staring to the skies helplessly trying to cling to the mud with a weak grasp. The wind swiftly howled ferociously. I felt the sound coming from my eyes.Responsively, I tilted my head to the side away from the wind. My face pinched in anguish feeling the p...
Suddenly, I snapped awake. It really was the day of my party, and it really was pouring down rain outside. I trudged out of my room and had breakfast, all the while staring gloomily at the storm raging outside.