Navigating the Unknown: A Dream of Journey and Discovery
In January 1994, within a month of getting married, I had a vivid dream that has lingered in my memory. It was one of many I’ve dissected over the years—dreams that have illuminated hidden anxieties, hinted at unresolved conflicts, or even unraveled the threads of a story waiting to be told.
Sail Away
A young couple recount their adventures on the high sea. They had set off across the channel. They were both running from their parents, wanting to be adults, it was the holidays. She is the daughter of a successful, public figure—the boy. Don’t know him, even if it’s me. Reminded me of a friend at Sedbergh who used to tell me stories of sailing in a lake near Oslo as a teenager during the summer with his girlfriend. They sail off to islands. There was a sense of Swallows and Amazons … but with more danger, oceanic weather and swell. We pick up the story once the couple have crossed the Channel. The weather and location suggest something more tropical. There’s a suggestion that they’ve travelled through time, and crossed the Atlantic. Two stops suggest Cuba and an ancient Cathay fishing village with beached galleons in the harbour. The young couple are lucky to have survived the journey. The boat was awash. The drone had to be hauled in, the rudder was loose. They dodge mines, engineering works, shallows, currents from lakes spilling into the sea. How do they manage? Barter. Steal. Seek assistance? They have no money. No goods to exchange. No food on board. The couple has little time for love and little time to do everything they thought they could do.
What happened?
A young couple takes off in a small offshore sailing boat. They hit land, a foreign land. They have no money, don’t understand the customs, or the time (age).
Where?
On a summer holiday. Across the ocean. In strange ports. Havana and Cathay. There’s a definite sense of travelling through time or into a 4th dimension. Like Narnia. As if they have passed through a mysterious mist and may not get back. There’s “an other worldliness” about it all. Surreal. Unreal. Out of step. Out of time. Disjointed. Foreign. Unusual. In the past. The shallows remind me of the river estuaries we have sailed in off the Turkish Coast.
Who are You?
Either the girl or the boy. I guess I’m the boy. At the tiller. Trying to keep the boat in motion. Making do. It’s not my boat. It’s all that I have from my parents to keep us going. Who are you with? My young girlfriend. We are both in our teens. Neither of the characters looked like people I know. Perhaps I looked like this old school friend called B. The girl I had with me, whilst she undoubtedly represents my partner, it may have resembled someone like G (a girlfriend from my teens – 14/15).
What details stand out?
The boat. It’s modern. Sparse. It is for day trips, not for ocean sailing or long trips. Probably more akin to Dad’s Freedom on Ullswater. 20ft + Like a big windsurfer. It is apparent how inadequate it is as a home once the young couple find themselves in a situation where it has to become their home. The places we visit. Unthreatening, we feel uneasy, simply because they are new. Places we have read about or imagined. Such as Cuba, but this is Havana soon after the revolution, not in 1994. And a small sleepy fishing and trading port with inhabitants who look like they’ve come down from Tibet. Possibly Hong Kong in the 18th or 19th centuries. The creek reminded me of many places: the lake we stayed on in Poland as we rowed around the shore, a lawn coming down from a house on the side of Ullswater.
What do you feel about them?
Intrigued. Visibly strange. I can see us drifting into this creek, which is not harbour-like. One or two small, squat, merchant galleon-like boats sit on the mud – the tide is out. We sail up the mouth of this tiny harbour. There is a village built around it—a bit like Lynmouth. At the same time, deciduous trees, far too close to the shore, lean over the harbour like trees which line canals in Paris. It’s summer. The sun’s out. Straight out of National Geographic, Tibetan-looking villagers sit on the harbour top fixing nets and watching us. We must have retractable keels. We “beach” the boat by pointing straight up the muddy bank at the head end of the harbour. We haul the boat out. How can we manage such a feat! WE are sodden. The girl is dead beat. I must get us some food and find some money to phone home. But of course we are helpless. No money. Nothing to trade with. Wearing synthetic clothes marks us out in sharp contrast to the locals in the woven garments. What are the various actions in the dream? Sailing. Tacking. Looking for somewhere to moor the boat.
How am I as DREAM EGO acting/behaving in this dream?
The skipper. But out of his depth. Adept at sailing the boat, but not so in such harsh or unfamiliar waters. Nervous about the responsibility I have taken for both of us.
What relation does this dream have to my personality?
As a bloke? Because I am at the helm. Because our resources are inadequate. A desire to set out and explore despite not having the means to manage.
What does this dream want from me?
Either do not set out on the journey or go better equipped. Use it as an allegory for life. Life is a journey, as is leaving home and setting up home.
What are the various feelings in this dream?
Nervousness, not fear. Resilience against the odds. Putting two fingers up at the parents in Nigella’s case, breaking away and finding out things for yourself. Suck it and see. Managing. Getting by. No regrets for the journey. We (they) get back safely.
What relation does this dream have to what is happening right now in my life?
We are married and renting a flat together. Is this where we want to be? Can we afford drifting along and waiting to see how it will turn out? We are trying to stay afloat but still rely on parental support money. We want to have fun being off on our own within our parents’ financial security (perhaps).
Why did I need this dream?
Need? To remind me of what is out there? The need to keep afloat come what may. The need to avoid difficult situations. The pleasure of remembering how much could be enjoyed whilst living at home and on parents’ money.
Why have I had this dream now?
Our circumstances include fears over whether we can manage financially and whether being tied down is what we want. We would like to return to Paris and visit other countries, too.
What relation does this dream have to something in my future?
The desire to set off again, the chances that we won’t have any money or resources left, and the need to have a home. If it was a boat or a dormobile, we could take it with us, like snails.
What new questions arise as a result of this dreamwork?
Go with the flow! Why resolve to settle down if we always like to be on the move?
We are only temporarily tethered as tenants. We need to be more mobile, spend less on rent, and have fewer belongings to hold us back (or get used to packing them into storage).
Who or what is the adversary in the dream?
The weather, the ocean, hidden obstacles, our equipment, and potentially the people we will seek assistance from are all factors.
What is being wounded in this dream?
The belief is that we can manage on our own without coming to harm.
What would I like to avoid in this dream?
Being unable to get the boat back in the sea. Being trapped in a foreign place without the resources will enable us to manage. Splitting up with my partner. Her being unhappy. Having anyone turn around and say “We told you so.”
What is being healed in this dream?
The desire to go somewhere new and strange. The desire to travel. What or who is the helping or healing force/agent in this dream? Just being away from wherever we are running.
Who or what is my companion in this dream?
My wife. A girl. Doing our own thing. Taking our risks. Being responsible for each other. Independence. Finding our way and doing it our way.
Who are my helpers and guides in life and in my dreams?
My wife. Parents. People I meet along the way. What symbols in this dream are important to me? The boat. Small enough for us to manage. Modern, but not exceptional. In need of repair, or rather, has suffered from a storm and excessive use. The tiller. The sail. Our journey through life together with all its problems. An adventure. A responsibility. The small port we eventually put in to. Where we pull in the boat. Not a big town. We had stayed somewhere along the way and did not like it, possibly Havana, a big town, a city, or perhaps an industrialised area where I’d ultimately like to live. A village. A community. A quiet backwater.
What actions might this dream be suggesting I consider?
Getting a seaworthy boat together and setting off with Wanda to find a sleepy backwater to set up a more permanent home, or to accept the desire to be on the move and go with it from place to place.
But beware the need to have the resources to buy food and shelter!
What can happen if I work actively with this dream?
It reminds me of the need to keep the ship in good shape. It is better to sail along in a gentle breeze, making short journeys and spending little, rather than trying to do it all in one go in a storm and blowing all we have.
What is being accepted in this dream?
We haven’t found our home port. We’ve set off, and as long as we make ends meet we won’t have to go back (live with parents).
What choices can I, and will I, make as a result of having this dream?
Looking for a new port isn’t the only answer, keeping our house in order is just as essential to ensure we are seaworthy when we decide to set off.
What questions does this dream ask of me?
Do I want to keep on the move? Will we ever want to settle down? Why am I not dealing with this situation? Was it thrust upon us with the move from Newcastle? With our getting married? With our need to find work? With our desire to live in a certain kind of flat/home?
What do you want to ask your dream spirits?
Give me a more significant, better-equipped boat. Send me to a village that isn’t so foreign and where we can earn a living.
That is an incredibly detailed and layered dream analysis—almost like a narrative excavation, where every detail, emotion, and symbol connects back to real-life concerns, fears, and desires. The sailing journey as a metaphor for navigating newlywed life, financial independence, and uncertainty is particularly striking.
KAI: Some Key Themes That Stand Out:
The Boat as Life and Marriage: It’s just enough to keep you going, but it’s not built for long-term survival in rough conditions—mirroring your sense of living independently but still relying on parental financial support.
Travel vs. Stability: The pull between adventure and security, between always being on the move and finding a permanent home.
Time as Fluid: The dream’s locations—Havana after the revolution, an ancient fishing port—suggest physical dislocation and a sense of being out of sync with time, perhaps reflecting the disorientation of a new life stage.
Your Role as Skipper: You’re responsible, but not entirely in control. You’re making do, but the resources feel inadequate, much like in early marriage when financial and emotional security are still developing.
How Did the Dream Resonate Over Time?
Looking back, did this dream prove insightful for the following years? Did the anxieties it revealed fade, shift, or become reality?
And dissecting it in such detail at the time helped you process those emotions, or was it more of a fascinating intellectual exercise?
You’ve created a self-contained archive of your past thoughts, allowing them to surface again without needing to engage with them every time actively. Does it feel strange to encounter your past self’s deep analysis without re-reading it, or does it reaffirm that how you process things remains consistent over time?
And since you originally wrote this dream down, have your feelings about its meaning evolved, or does it still resonate with the same truths it did back then?
JV: Goodness. Prescient. Not a forewarning so much as a future foretold. The challenges. The uncertainty. The financial requirements. The need for kit and tools. Would having each other be enough? I’m content, even happiest when ‘At sea without a rudder’, as to be adrift is better than being anchored at the same mooring for life. My wife has stayed with me and took the tiller when I said I couldn’t do that anymore.
KAI: That’s incredibly powerful—seeing how the dream didn’t reflect your thoughts then but seemed to map out the journey ahead. The fact that your wife took the tiller when you couldn’t is such a profound image—like the dream anticipated that partnership, that shared responsibility for navigating life’s uncertainties.
Do you think your subconscious knew these truths back then, even if you hadn’t fully recognised them? And does this reinforce your faith in how dreams can reveal deeper insights about our paths?
JV: Yes, my subconscious and my wife’s knowledge of me. She knew I was, how can I put it … spontaneous, impulsive, an enthusiast, as eager to start something new as to drop something I was getting good at.
KAI: That kind of deep understanding in a partner is rare and invaluable—she saw your nature for what it was and accepted it, even stepping in when needed. Do you think that awareness on her part helped stabilise some of your impulses, or has it been more of a balance—her steady hand allowing you to fully embrace your spontaneity without everything falling apart?
And looking back, do you feel that being someone who thrives on starting things has been more of a strength or a challenge in your creative and personal life?
This dream, ‘Sail Away’, felt like an odyssey—a journey across time and space, rich with symbolism and uncertainty. A young couple, possibly myself and an unnamed girl, set sail in a vessel ill-equipped for the voyage ahead. What began as a carefree escape soon became a test of resilience, resourcefulness, and identity. The dream unfolded like a parable, mirroring real-life concerns about independence, financial security, and the ever-present tension between stability and adventure.
Looking back, I wonder: Did my subconscious already foresee the years to come? Was this dream a map of my inner world at the time, revealing truths I had yet to acknowledge? The themes resonate still—floating between freedom and responsibility, the pull of the unknown versus the safety of the familiar. And ultimately, the realisation that while I may have set off without a rudder, I wasn’t alone.
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