The Treasure Hunters: Part One

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Posted in the Throwback Thursday and Serial Sunday Presents

“Not all treasure‘s silver and gold, mate”
Jack Sparrow, Pirates Of The Caribbean: The Curse Of The Black Pearl

The Treasure Hunters: Part One

It was just another day at the office. The lost and found box weekly walk through task had fallen on my desk this week. Procrastinating on starting the tedious job, I decided to get a refill for my coffee and take the box to an empty meeting room and sort out the lot there on the conference table.

I was starting with the task at hand, pulling each item and sorting them to their respective piles on the table. An odd glove, an empty wallet, a photo frame with a photo of a Disneyland visit, a few coins, when a crumpled piece of paper caught my eye.

I picked it up, curious, because the paper was yellow and thick, nothing like the printer papers we used for the office. It seemed older and more delicate somehow. I carefully unfolded the lump in my hand, and bit by bit, I had it fully open and spread in front of me. I could not believe my eyes.

The X marks the spot indeed; I was looking at what seemed to be, a treasure map and a price to seek.

I kept staring at the map in front of me, wondering if it was someone’s idea of a joke or the real deal. As I stared deeper and deeper into the mysterious map, I felt a dizziness and suddenly, I was surrounded by thick fog. A whooshing sound and there I was, standing on a beach, transported to an unfamiliar place.

The sun was shining warmly, seagulls above me, screeching. The waves gently rolling across the sand. I, myself, barefoot, dressed in fashion resembling an eighteenth century cabin boy. This was a completely different outfit to what I had been wearing before, not to mention the lack of footwear.

I scanned the distance and saw a tall ship. The crew was getting ashore and carrying many a boxes. The men were dressed in similar old fashion clothing I was and oddly enough, the whole set up resembled a scene from a pirate film.

I wondered whether my eyes were deceiving me, had I fallen asleep and was dreaming or had I just lost it all together. I pinched myself and felt the pain. “Great!” I said out loud in a sarcastic tone. Either I had stumbled into a wormhole or other dimension, this was actually real!

I started slowly walking towards the ship. It would be my best option to get more info on what was going on. Just hoping these people, who ever they were, would be the friendly sort.

To be continued…

treasuremap1

The Treasure Hunters: Introduction

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Posted in the Throwback Thursday and Serial Sunday Presents

“I always say, ‘I’m not a pirate, I just play one on TV.'” Paul Watson

Treasure Hunters: Introduction

Welcome to Treasure Hunters!

In a new weekly series called “Serial Sunday Presents”, The Rantings Of A Third Kind will be showcasing stories published each week, on Sunday. Short stories, continuing saga and tales of the odd for your reading pleasure.

The first series posted, is the continuing saga of the The Treasure Hunters. A tale of time travelling, change of identities, treasure hunting, pirates and a little adventure on the side 😉

Parts one through four have already been posted. More to come next Sunday in Part Five!

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Back in time (TBT)

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Posted in the Throwback Thursday weekly series
Poetry, photography, tales and things that nature!

time

“When I was kid, my social network was called ‘outside’ “

Back in time

This is the work one of pure fiction. Neither polar bears nor reindeer were harmed in the creation of this literary process!

The year was 1924.

Longitude and latitude: Somewhere up north, thataway! The Finnish Lapland would probably be the most accurate location for this tale.

How old was I?

I guess I was somewhere between ten and twelve years of age. In those days, people were born and they died. No one really bothered with the record keeping. Lord knows there were plenty of us to go around.

Despite the fact it was close to midsummer, there was still snow on the ground. The reindeer and polar bears were roaming the streets while us kids were running around, having snowball fights. That is, during the minimum spare time we had between school, chores and work. Sleeping in those days was a luxury. Sometimes we had a full night’s sleep, sometimes the watch duty fell on my plate and I needed to stay up all night. Luckily, coffee had been invented ten years prior and we were all pretty much hooked on the sweet dark liquid.

Our housing for the winter months was an igloo, which the whole family constructed out of ice. Snow was used as plaster to fill in any holes between the blocks of ice. During the summer time, we had a tent like structure made out of bear and deer skin. Unfortunately all of us favoured the winter dwelling for one simple fact: The summer house stunk like a skunk. The choice of material was not a good one, but then, it was depression and all commodities were scarce.

The trip to school, either winter or summer time was made on skis and it was part to the exercise curriculum for all of us still eligible for the classes. A twenty kilometer trip back and forth was not a big deal and was building the strength and endurance nicely. This also came in handy for our after school activities. Some of us went to work in the coal mines, while others were herding rein deer or taking care of their younger siblings.

Each Saturday the Sauna was heated and all the family gathered into the cramped little room, heated up to eighty degrees. We were sitting all butt cheek to butt cheek in the nude on a wooden construct in the small dark room. Only the burning fire in the stove gave some lighting. As a luffa, a loosely tied bunch of birch tree branches with leaves on them was used. Out mother pummeled us with the concoction and me thinks she enjoyed it a little too much. Granted we children gave her grieve sometimes, so I will give her that.

Bathing for us then meant taking dips in the icy, below freezing waters. This, after we had first heated our body temperatures close to baking. Then we ran naked to the lake, where a large hole had been dug into the ice and plunged in.

All in all life was pretty ordinary and uneventful in my childhood, apart from the minor quirks.

Do I miss it? My childhood?

I would rather spend my next holiday on a labour camp!

4067-76665

Seconds (The Daily Post Photo Challenge)

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The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge: Time

This week, think about time and portray it photographically. Maybe you have a photo about one of the activities in the extract from Haig’s book above. Perhaps you have a fascination with clocks. Or maybe contemplating time takes you somewhere else completely. I hope you enjoy this week’s challenge.

seconds-3

“Even if it turns out that time travel is impossible, it is important that we understand why it is impossible” Stephen Hawking

Seconds

Heart beating
Time is running out
Only a few seconds left
For the ultimate request
Using a different route
Feels like cheating

Finally reaching
My own hideout
No time for rest
Only doing my best
No time for tryout
Parameter breaching

Safely in my blue box
Punching the clock
Time starts moving
Seconds removing
Going backwards
Against standards

They said
It couldn’t be done
But did I bet
And know I am gone
Back in time
Trying to find
…My future

   seconds-2      seconds-1

Seconds (Writing 101, A Poem A Day)

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Writing 101, A Poem A Day: Day 4: Seconds
Poetry & Photography

“Life moves very fast. It rushes from Heaven to Hell in a matter of seconds.” – Paulo Coelho

A new life sees the world for the first time. Simultaneously, another life takes its final breath.

A passenger that was supposed to board a plane was one second late. Hours later, the plane went missing, the passenger saved.

Unimportant as it may seem, a split second can change our lives in ways we can never imagine. So today, write about the basic unit of time, seconds. Reflect on those few seconds when a loved one was in a life-and-death situation. Relive the few seconds when you held your eldest child for the first time. Recount those seconds when you were waiting for big news that was about to change your life.

 

seconds-3

“Even if it turns out that time travel is impossible, it is important that we understand why it is impossible” Stephen Hawking

Seconds

Heart beating
Time is running out
Only a few seconds left
For the ultimate request
Using a different route
Feels like cheating

Finally reaching
My own hideout
No time for rest
Only doing my best
No time for tryout
Parameter breaching

Safely in my blue box
Punching the clock
Time starts moving
Seconds removing
Going backwards
Against standards

They said
It couldn’t be done
But did I bet
And know I am gone
Back in time
Trying to find
…My future

seconds-2   seconds-1

Back to the Future

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In honour of the epic movie trilogy, Back to the Future and Back to the Future 2015 Day

backtothefuture

“There’s that word again: ‘heavy.’ Why are things so heavy in the future? Is there a problem with the Earth’s gravitational pull?” Doc Emmett Brown

 

Back to the Future

I was sitting in my time machine
Whistling this happy tune
Must have been quite a scene
With the bells, whistles and fumes

Setting the date into the dialer1545113_997840723593122_2342149095756807615_n
The flux capacitor pulsating
Waiting patiently, I am the driver
Feeling the seat vibrating

The dashboard flashing
Soon I will be dashing
Through time and space
Into another time and place

Travelling in my vehicle
The outside cold as icicles
With the speed of light
In a tunnel quite bright

My destination dead ahead
The tunnel soon to shed
Feelings of anticipation
Of what destiny awaits me
In the next station

back-to-the-future    delorean_824734

marty-guitar    Indians

dr-emmett-brown    Docwithpowercords

back-to-the-future-lightning-clock-tower    Back-to-the-Future-4

Back_to_the_future_delorean_1955_by_goldcobra84-d6i7ys8   1547098a

12115547_748373395296108_3429633567218155351_n    12115759_748373405296107_3386883577521834701_n

12111910_748373468629434_3173935358909284010_n    12047051_748373508629430_1462680154153232096_n

341177    163942f6-d07d-4eec-a34e-e196f8687036-2060x1236

44779    418f80be-9950-4a2f-9486-5875685ce390-540x324

4512ee4a-b9e2-4e96-bdc7-0f2f40daa99e-2060x1236    2martymcfly.ngsversion.1445358270548.adapt.1190.1

Back in Time: Repost for Throwback Thursday

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“When I was kid, my social network was called ‘outside’ “

Back in Time

This is the work one of pure fiction. Neither polar bears nor reindeer were harmed in the creation of this literary process!
The year was 1924.

Longitude and latitude: Somewhere up north, thataway! The Finnish Lapland would probably be the most accurate location for this tale.

How old was I?

I guess I was somewhere between ten and twelve years of age. In those days, people were born and they died. No one really bothered with the record keeping. Lord knows there were plenty of us to go around.

Despite the fact it was close to midsummer, there was still snow on the ground. The reindeer and polar bears were roaming the streets while us kids were running around, having snowball fights. That is, during the minimum spare time we had between school, chores and work. Sleeping in those days was a luxury. Sometimes we had a full night’s sleep, sometimes the watch duty fell on my plate and I needed to stay up all night. Luckily, coffee had been invented ten years prior and we were all pretty much hooked on the sweet dark liquid.

Our housing for the winter months was an igloo, which the whole family constructed out of ice. Snow was used as plaster to fill in any holes between the blocks of ice. During the summer time, we had a tent like structure made out of bear and deer skin. Unfortunately all of us favoured the winter dwelling for one simple fact: The summer house stunk like a skunk. The choice of material was not a good one, but then, it was depression and all commodities were scarce.

The trip to school, either winter or summer time was made on skis and it was part to the exercise curriculum for all of us still eligible for the classes. A twenty kilometer trip back and forth was not a big deal and was building the strength and endurance nicely. This also came in handy for our after school activities. Some of us went to work in the coal mines, while others were herding rein deer or taking care of their younger siblings.

Each Saturday the Sauna was heated and all the family gathered into the cramped little room, heated up to eighty degrees. We were sitting all butt cheek to butt cheek in the nude on a wooden construct in the small dark room. Only the burning fire in the stove gave some lighting. As a luffa, a loosely tied bunch of birch tree branches with leaves on them was used. Out mother pummeled us with the concoction and me thinks she enjoyed it a little too much. Granted we children gave her grieve sometimes, so I will give her that.

Bathing for us then meant taking dips in the icy, below freezing waters. This, after we had first heated our body temperatures close to baking. Then we ran naked to the lake, where a large hole had been dug into the ice and plunged in.

All in all life was pretty ordinary and uneventful in my childhood, apart from the minor quirks.

Do I miss it? My childhood?

I would rather spend my next holiday on a labour camp!

4067-76665

Treasure Hunters, Part Four

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Part four of the Treasure Hunter Series;
The continuing saga being published weekly for Serial Sundays

BACK TO PART THREE

 

“Time travel … will never be impossible forever”

Treasure Hunters, Part Four

“Welcome on board!” The cabin boy said to me. It was actually the first time I heard him speak and I was surprised he sounded more like a girl than a young boy.

“Thank you!” I think. I just wasn’t sure.

The crew had finally turned in for the evening. Or rather passed out in various places around the court yard, which also served as the dining area with its large table setting. In the middle, the fountain was set up and it was circulating fresh water. A quality I at least appreciated. After all the rum, it was a nice and certainly refreshing welcome. Today had turned out a cloudless sunny day and despite the nice and warm climate, it was still a little too hot for my taste.

Tonight’s event had been an interesting one to say the least, with all the dirty jokes flying around and chanting of sea related songs. The drinking had been nothing if not heavy and the chalices were passed around frequently. Everyone, including us minors, were expected to take part in the festivities. From an outsider’s perspective, it seemed like a text book cliché of how the pirates behaved, at least so far.

From what I had found out, this safe harbour was shared by several crews. It seemed the pirates were well organized and there wasn’t too much fighting going on between the various groups. At least not when a meal and rum was shared.

I had managed to get into the sleeping quarters and was now standing in the window watching, as the last of the crewmen dozed off. Luckily for me, my bunk mates for the evening were all passed out and lying outside, meaning I had the room for myself for tonight. Lord knows I could use a good night’s sleep. After today’s events, namely being whisked off to what seemed back in time. Walking barefoot for miles on end and to top it all, spending the evening participating in pirate festivities, were starting to take a toll on me. I may have looked like a young cabin boy, but inside I still felt like the middle aged old me.

I closed my eyes and I wondered if, when waking up again, I would be back home and realizing this, what ever this was, had all been a dream. After all, it all seemed so unreal. I listened to all the strange sounds for a while, before sleep caught up with me.

 

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART FIVE

wormhole_v2_by_acidcliff

Serial Sundays

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“There are no heroes. No villains. Only people with different agendas” Stick, Daredevil

Serial Sundays

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Serial Sundays!

For the posts related to Serial Sundays, The Rantings Of A Third Kind will be presenting stories published every week during, well Sundays of course 😉

The first series posted is the continuing saga of the Treasure Hunters. A tale of time travelling, change of identities and a little adventure on the side. Parts one and two were originally published for the Writing 101 challenge. Today the story will continue with part three.

Please find the links to currently available posts:

The Treasure Hunters, Part One
The Treasure Hunters, Part Two
The Treasure Hunters, Part Three

Enjoy!

7745437b-6d14-41a4-a527-8015c1ee1196

The Treasure Hunters, Part Three

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Part three of The Treasure Hunter Series; the continuing saga being published weekly for Serial Sundays.

BACK TO PART TWO OF TREASURE HUNTERS

 

“A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid” J. R. R. Tolkien

The Treasure Hunters, Part Three

My feet were not used to running barefoot, and I could feel each and every little stick and stone along the path. I just hoped we would reach our destination, soon.

The little rag tag group formed of myself and the recently acquainted pirates finally reached the camp. From what I could tell, realistically, the hike up the hill could not have been more than a few kilometres. Unfortunately it felt more like a marathon to me and my poor bare feet. What I would have given for a foot bath and a massage right now!

I was seated by a tall wooden table, sitting on the hard bench. A person, who obviously seemed to be a cabin boy, had brought a bowl of some sort of grub and a chalice filled with what tasted like wine. OK, so this was no gourmet meal. Certainly no competition for any fast food meal I had eaten in the past either. But at this point, hearing my stomach growling, I would have settled for a bowl of cooked stones. I could not believe how unbelievable hungry I actually was.

“So, Lad, which boat did you serve on?” The Captain, sitting on the other end of the table, asked me.

“I um, ” Come on think, think, I was telling myself. It had been a while since I watched any films, especially those of adventure and pirates! Then it hit me: “The Black Pearl, Sir!” Nice save dumbass I told myself.

The Captain looked puzzled for a while before he replied, “The Black Pearl? I don’t recall a ship by that name. What was the name of your Captain, Lad?” He ogled me suspiciously.

“Sparrow, Sir, Captain Sparrow.” I tried to pull the best innocent look on my face I could muster. It sure had worked before. At least when I was still me that is.

“Sparrow, Sparrow…” The Captain repeated thoughtfully, rubbing his beard in the process. Then he stopped and looked at me, or rather right through me. He let out a laugh: “I do recall a Captain Sparrow. Tough as nails! No wonder you are on the run!”

So, the little white lie sank in! Great! But now, the Captain believed me to be a runaway. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing at this point. After a moment of silence, staring at my feet, trying to look guilty as the suspect of being on the run, I looked up.

“Yes, he was. That’s why I left.”

“And I suppose you are looking for a new hiring?” The Captain asked, this time very politely.

Well, I guess I was looking for a job. I had nothing but the clothes on my back, no shoes, no food. So yes, I needed a job, a place to stay and the means to find my way back.

“Yes.” I replied simply.

The cabin boy had been filling the drinks and as he had heard the Captain’s comments asking me about the job, he looked at me, smirked and gave me a wink.

“Well, laddie,” The Captain replied, “You look like you are made of a stern stuff. Consider yourself hired!”

I had no idea what I had gotten myself into, but come what may, I was now officially a pirate!

“Thank you, Sir!” Good thing I had been watching a lot of television and movies in the past. I at least had some idea of how the people talked in the past. At least I hoped the Hollywood types had not taken too many artistic liberties!

“Welcome on board!” The cabin boy said to me. It was actually the first time I heard him speak and I was surprised he sounded more like a girl than a young boy.

“Thank you!” I think. I just wasn’t sure.

 

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART FOUR

Upsidedowncompass