New dream

An entirely new dream last night, involving new elements not previously appearing in my dreams, at least not in ones that I remembered about. And, unusually, it did not include anything from my old world of work.

All a bit incoherent now, in roughly three parts.

In the first part I am flying some kind of small plane with an outsize & rather scruffy open cockpit over a more or less round natural harbour containing a number of ships large and small. There is quite a swell and some of the smaller ships are moving around quite a bit. I am in danger of snagging the mast of one of the larger ships - something looking a bit like an outsize tug - and want to climb. Can't find the controls at first but then find that the controls are two ropes running along the bottom of the cockpit, right and left, a bit like the tiller ropes sometimes used to steer rowing boats. Plane very sluggish and climbs very slowly but I don't hit anything.

At about this point the plane becomes a helicopter which I am flying around the deck of some large ship, maybe a cruise liner. I do various stunts, including picking up a lady - a lady who is wearing a red and white summer frock and who looks like she fell out of an episode of Poirot - in such a way that she is standing on the top button of the rotor, a button which does not appear, in this helicopter anyway, to rotate. Not clear how this stunt was accomplished.

There is then an interlude in which I am trying to get my lunch from some sort of a buffet, maybe that of the possible cruise liner. A film industry flavour to the scene. The buffet area full of people sitting on the floor eating their lunches. An alternative living flavour to the scene. Don't fancy this, so try and find somewhere a bit quieter, hopefully involving chairs and tables.

At the far end of the of the buffet area there is a large motor yacht which I am heading for when I find that I have lost my shoes. Get into a right lather poking among the various piles of shoes, shoes belonging to the alternative people sitting on the floor.The captain of the yacht persuades me to push on for the yacht, where he is sure the shoe problem will sort itself out. As indeed it does, with the shoes having been dropped on the deck where we board. But at this point the yacht relocates, leaving the captain and I behind.

In the third part I am trying, along with the captain, to get back on board the yacht, now moored on the right, downstream from the large ship of part one. We get ourselves to the quay where the yacht is tied up to find some sort of a davits contraption from which was suspended a very rusty capsule, vaguely like the sort of thing you might get on a fairground ride. I was thinking about getting into the capsule, or at least onto it, when I realised that the capsule would only run up and down a short length of wire and was not going to take me anywhere, never mind to the yacht.

Yacht reappeared upstream in the middle of the channel. Keen as mustard, I nip back up the quay, jump down onto the beach and head across the mud for the yacht. Promptly find myself up to the oxters in wet, smelly mud. Manage to extricate myself OK but I am very concerned about whether I have damaged my posh new wallet (something which I do actually possess). I find some tatty polythene bag to put it in.

And that is all I can remember. Part 1 might well be debris from my reading Chichester's autobiography (see October 7th last, in the other place). Part 3 might possibly be debris from our last summer's visits to Iflracombe and Watermouth harbours. But I don't have a clue about part 2.