11. Alan Meets Margaret and Wainwright

Alan's green card.

Alan grabbed his bag and walked off the ship. Other passengers were disembarking as well, and Alan was touched by all the hugging and delighted greetings from friends and relatives - he warmed to the energy of their joy, even though he knew no one!

At the dock, Alan saw someone holding a sign with his name on it, and figured that might be Margaret the secretary.

"Hi, I'm Alan," he told her and they vigorously shook hands. Margaret smiled and said, "Well, I'm Maggie and it's a pleasure to have you. Let's go this way; I have a car and we'll go up to the Hill." She walked like this was a speed march. "Nice trip?" "Yes, very relaxing time on the boat." He then chatted on about the long airplane journey as he managed to keep up with her into the "foreign passenger" part of the shed. Just then he spotted Carla with some of her band-mates, but she didn't see him. Flustered, he turned back to Margaret, "I definitely loved the impromptu music on board the ship."

At the customs line, Margaret gave Alan a green card. "Here, sign this and you can legally stay here as long as you like. The customs agent will want to see it, along with your passport." The agent at the gate greeted Alan like a long-lost soul, surprising him. He asked a few questions, seemed pleased at Alan's replies, stamped his passport, and moved them through with a wink to Margaret. Alan was getting the idea that she is well-known here!

It was a fast trip to the Ministry of Trade. Margaret led Alan upstairs to the Tourism office, and Wainwright greeted him warmly. "We've been looking forward to meeting you ever since Maggie here so excitedly reacted to your drawing!  I trust you had a pleasant journey, yes? I have met only a few Americans, and very few of us here have ever ventured to the States...a frightful place if you believe the news we get here... Now, let's have a seat and we'll get on with it.

"I have a list of places we would like you to depict, Mr Faramond, places that we think speak strongly about this island-nation of ours. I'm sure you'll have questions, which Maggie should be able to address. Here is the list, and there are phone numbers so that you may reach us. I've secured a 90-day rail pass good on all the trains, busses and streetcar lines throughout the island, but unfortunately, I'm not able to give you a car. But then, many of the locations will be accessible only on foot! Here is also the address of the lodgings we have reserved for you, a train schedule, and a road map. Any questions Mr. Faramond?"

Alan looked over the paperwork (what a list!), then at Wainwright, a genial-looking guy he hoped he could rely upon. He was getting a little nervous about all this: it was really happening, he would be sent out to wander around this island and draw pictures for a guidebook. Did they think he could really pull this off? Are the natives friendly? Alan sure hoped so!

"Ahh, I'm wondering how long, or how much time I'll have to do these drawings?"

"Well, said Margaret, as long as it takes, I'm sure."  Wainwright nodded in agreement. They stood there a moment not saying anything, and Alan couldn't think of any more questions, so he said "I guess I'll be going now..." and Margaret offered to drive him to his lodging downtown.

Some of the stuff Alan received...

10: Arrival on New Island

First sighting of  New Island - rounding South Cape...

...and now entering Victoria Harbor.

After another evening of dancing (for a while) and reading in his bunk, Alan rested well aboard the ship. The rolling of the swells helped lull him to sleep, and he began to feel a connection with the rolling of the ocean under the ship, something very comforting. 

The next morning, he walked around the decks hoping to run into Carla, but she was not to be found. He did spot land off to the west, however. "This must be the New Island coast", he thought. "Wow, a whole new place."

Alan realized that he was actually seeing something new with nothing to guide him - no Google maps, Vimeo pictures, Lonely Planet Guides, pages about the details on Facebook, or anyone telling him about all the must-see places the author had already been to!  He had wondered at this at first, but Alan felt he wouldn't question things here too closely, such as why Google Earth, and his old atlas, only presented open ocean where this place should be. He had his ticket, and a real letter of intent offering him a job that seemed ideal...wander around and sketch the scenery, how cool is that?

At almost noon, the Charles Ames pulled up to the Australia Dock in Victoria Harbor. Alan saw that this was not nearly as big a city as he imagined; no high-rise buildings, no big resorts on the beach, just small houses and some larger buildings visible along the waterfront and on the lower hills to the, um, east. The surrounding hills were an astonishing green, and looked completely uninhabited. And was that snow on the tall mountain? Cool!

9: Alan meets Carla

Late the next morning, while out walking the deck, Alan looked up to see the the singer from last night waving at him. She was on the boat deck, one flight up. He waved back, then climbed up the stairway to meet her. "Hi, I'm Carla," she said and held out her hand. He shook it, and finally held her gaze, as he was reminded to do a few times by Michelle (and his counselor) back in Michigan City. "Well, um, pleased to meet you. I'm Alan," he told her. "And I'm wondering if we have met before. I mean, am I someone you've seen before?"  

"Well, that's why I wanted to say hello, Alan. I saw you while I was singing last night, with a feeling that you were someone. I mean, someone I might know, or that I should know... You seem somehow like family or something." Alan looked at her and felt that this was getting strange...but he too felt a connection, a faint memory, a recognition of some sort. Then they both relaxed a little, and looked out at the ocean from the railing.

After a few minutes, Alan said, "My family is from California, in the USA, and I've been living in a town called Michigan City, in Indiana, in the American Midwest, for the last several years. Um, does that mean anything to you?" 

"No."

"Okay, well, I was really just hanging on there, making drawings and wondering what I'll do next...you know? Then I got this letter from someone named Margaret Mullen, Dept. of Tourism, Commonwealth of New Island, about illustrating a tourism guidebook. They offered me a ticket, at least one way, lodging, and a weekly stipend, so I said I'd do it! I'll get a return ticket when my job is done, I think."  

"Wow, a paid-for gig. That sounds really cool! They're going to put you up somewhere?" 

"Yes, this Margaret said they have an apartment for me that overlooks Putney Bay, where I'll have peace and quiet and easy access to most of the island for my sketch trips. I'm supposed to meet her and her boss Wainwright Stevens in Victoria Harbor. Then I assume they'll send me out to where I'm to make these sketches. It's all a bit vague..."

"Hm, I'm wondering why they couldn't find someone local to do this...I mean, how did they ever find you? No offence of course, but it seems a bit incredible."

"Well, Margaret somehow got hold of a drawing of mine, and said I had depicted her childhood home, including her toy wagon, when I had actually just made it all up. I've been drawing and painting these places from my head for years now. And drawing them seems to help me stay alive, especially when I look too closely at the real world...is this making any sense?"

"Uh, yeah, I think it makes a lot of sense. And maybe that's what made me 'recognize' you. I got a feeling that you might be someone I'd seen a long time ago, back where I grew up." Carla looked at him, and Alan didn't know what to think. He finally said,"It seems that on one reality, we've never met, but on another, maybe we have...do you get what I'm saying? And I'm not flirting here if that's what you might be thinking!"

"Uh, no," she smiled, "I don't think you are, and I'm not flirting with you, but I'm very glad we've met, um, now!" A bit red-faced, he grinned at her, and then they both looked out again at the ocean. 

"Hey," Carla finally said, "I gotta go, so here is my card and if you ever need a place to stay during your sketching excursions. Don't hesitate to get hold of me, OK?"

"Yes, I'll do that. Thanks!" Alan was delighted - now he felt he had some kind of human connection here, someone besides his employers. He gave her a quick smooch on the cheek and then she grabbed him and hugged him - a warm heartfelt hug at that. Alan was surprised at first, but then he could feel all tension and doubt drain away. He began to feel glad that he came here!

8: At Sea that Night

The Milky Way somewhere over the Southern Ocean

Alan wanted to listen to the singer with that wonderful voice. He thought it sounded like that Scottish group Capercaillie. The music stirred up something inside of him, but he didn't know what exactly was going on. It sure felt good, though. While he watched the dancing, he sipped on a Moscow mule at the cantina bar. They also served hamburgers, so while having one of those and a second mule, he began swaying to the music, especially when those drums took over.

Again he turned his attention to the singer, her voice so melodic. Then with a wild look in her eye, she glanced at him, making him look away, and feel all fumbly. She kept it up, so finally he smiled back at her, and she nodded to him, ever so slightly. What is this about? Does she know me? Maybe he was just hyper-aware of anyone's notice because he was so far away from home, or that he had for some time now been so unsociable, so cut-off...?

As the night grew deeper, Alan noticed the Milky Way rising straight up above the ocean, arcing high above the ship and then back to the opposite horizon. Wow...he had ever seen it so vividly before, and it seemed so close, so intense! Again, he felt that something is definitely different here. He loved the thought that he is sailing on the Southern Ocean - how exotic! While staring up at the immense core of the galaxy, Alan had a strong feeling that this trip was already touching something deeper than than anything he has ever known.

A little dazed,  he finally went to bed.

7: Leaving the Known World

A steward with dreadlocks showed Alan to his cabin, a nice one on the main deck with a generous ocean view. Alan was unsure about sea travel, having never done it before, and hoped he wouldn't get seasick. The steward showed Alan all the details of his accommodation, such as how to flush the 'ead. (Oh, the toilet, Alan realized.) "Mealtimes", the steward explained, "are announced by a series of bells: two bells, rung three times, announce breakfast; three bells (rung twice) are the call for lunch, and four bells (rung twice) announce supper. A loud buzzer, by contrast, will announce various emergencies such as a fire, man overboard, or taking on water. Got all that?" Alan nodded as the steward pointed to the chart for all that on the door. 

"On a lighter note," he continued, "on almost every trip a few passengers do the drums and play guitars in the evening, out aft of the outdoor cantina....quite spontaneous, and sometimes there's the dancing. It's become a kind of tradition. Yer welcome to join us..." 

And then he left.

Alan sat down on his bunk. Now that was nice, he thought, but he wasn't sure he'd venture it...the music that is. He then began to wonder what the ticket-lady meant when she said "Glad you made it." Did she hug everyone coming through there? It left him with a good-feeling, that he was wanted, appreciated, but also mystified. 

He looked around and began to notice his cabin. He admired the carved-wood sideboard on his bunk to prevent his rolling off in rough seas, he figured. He continued to sit there, not thinking much about anything, just looked around his little room. He liked the well-worn varnished mahogany, the heavy white paint on the steel walls, the functional brass hardware. It was all of such practical design, he thought, and this felt good, too. 

Alan heard a long deep horn blast - and then the shed outside his window slowly began to glide by. Soon after that, four bells sounded and Alan went off to search for the dining room.

Alan is embarking on a three-day, two-night trip to Victoria Harbor from 

Fremantle, Western Australia. He has trouble believing he has come so far!

6: Settling on Board the SS Charles Ames

A steward with dreadlocks showed Alan to his cabin, a nice one on the main deck with a generous ocean view. Alan was unsure about sea travel, having never done it before, and hoped he wouldn't get seasick. The steward showed Alan all the details of his accommodation, such as how to flush the 'ead. (Oh, the toilet, Alan realized.) "Mealtimes", the steward explained, "are announced by a series of bells: two bells, rung three times, announce breakfast; three bells (rung twice) are the call for lunch, and four bells (rung twice) announce supper. A loud buzzer, by contrast, will announce various emergencies such as a fire, man overboard, or taking on water. Got all that?" Alan nodded as the steward pointed to the chart for all that on the door. 

"On a lighter note," he continued, "on almost every trip a few passengers do the drums and play guitars in the evening, out aft of the outdoor cantina....quite spontaneous, and sometimes there's the dancing. It's become a kind of tradition. Yer welcome to join us..." 

And then he left.

Alan sat down on his bunk. Now that was nice, he thought, but he wasn't sure he'd venture it...the music that is. He then began to wonder what the ticket-lady meant when she said "Glad you made it." Did she hug everyone coming through there? It left him with a good-feeling, that he was wanted, appreciated, but also mystified. 

He looked around and began to notice his cabin. He admired the carved-wood sideboard on his bunk to prevent his rolling off in rough seas, he figured. He continued to sit there, not thinking much about anything, just looked around his little room. He liked the well-worn varnished mahogany, the heavy white paint on the steel walls, the functional brass hardware. It was all of such practical design, he thought, and this felt good, too. 

Alan heard a long deep horn blast - and then the shed outside his window slowly began to glide by. Soon after that, four bells sounded and Alan went off to search for the dining room.

Alan is embarking on a three-day, two-night trip to Victoria Harbor from 

Fremantle, Western Australia. He has trouble believing he has come so far!

5: Alan Steps into a New Plane of Existance

Alan showed his ticket to board the SS Charles Ames to the concierge at the Orient Hotel. The smart-looking young woman studied it, front and back, scratched her head, and and gave it back to Alan, saying she'd never heard of this shipping company, or, for that matter, the destination on the ticket! 

Unfortunately, there was no Fremantle street address on the back of the ticket, so Alan found a taxi out front and asked the driver to get him to the Rudyard Shipping terminal or offices or whatever... The taxi driver was Malaysian, with a thick Aussie accent, so all Alan could do was ask him to just drive around. After about ten minutes, Alan saw this little building and shouted "Stop!"

"Okay", he thought, "I guess this must be it." 

The cabbie looked around, confused, and asked, "You want off here, mate?" 

"Oh, yes - this is the Rudyard Lines shipping office, see?"

"Okaaay, mon, whatever you say..." The cabbie apparently saw nothing.

Alan retrieved his bag and backpack, and the cabbie graciously accepted a hefty fare in Alan's US dollars. (He hadn't yet changed any money, and then there was the tip, but still...)  As Alan approached the heavy-looking wooden doors, he noticed the neighborhood seemed eerily quiet for the location of an international passenger terminal. 

He opened the door and stepped inside.

A strange but softly pleasant buzzing sensation hit Alan when he entered the building. It pulsed all through his body, and then ebbed a bit but not completely. He sensed that  things were different here, and that he might not even be in Australia any more... 

The interior was dim, dusty and very quiet. There were a few faded "Visit New Island" posters on the walls, a row of lovely old waiting-room chairs, some vending machines next to a pay phone, and a long wooden check-in counter. He showed his ticket to an older lady who came to the counter.  She stamped it, and asked, "Any Baggage?" and Alan showed his one bag, and pointed to his backpack. "Change your currency?" Oh yes, Alan thought, and pulled out his wallet, and traded his 1100 US dollars for about 49 rogers. She didn't even ask to see his passport. 

Then she looked at him closely - seemed to study his face, making Alan instantly nervous. He fought his usual impulse to look away whenever he was scrutinized like this, but a tiny voice within said hold your ground.  Then her eyes softened and she almost smiled, as if he passed some kind of test. "OK, follow me"(she wasn't a chatty sort). They went out the back of the building and she mounted a pedicab with two back seats. She told Alan to toss his bags in the back and then climb aboard, and she proceeded to pedal them to "D" Shed in Fremantle's inner harbor, about four blocks away.  

And there was the Charles Ames, an older-looking passenger-freighter, all white with only a few rust stains, its forward crane still taking on cargo. Alan, amazed at the strength in her legs, tipped the lady. She smiled broadly this time, gave him a hug (which surprised him) and then said into his ear "Glad you made it!"  Alan, flustered but happy in a strange way, whispered back, "Thanks", and walked up the gangway.

He found the bursar and showed him his ticket. The boat was to leave in about two hours. "Wow, how easy was that," Alan thought. He was on his way.

4: Alan Starts Out from Michigan City...

At 8:43 am that morning, Alan boarded the South Shore train at the 11th Street stop in Michigan City. He had to wait on the sidewalk - there wasn't really a station there.  In downtown Chicago, He connected with a Metra train that took him to O'hare International Airport.

He had to use his own money to get to O'hare, but he had his tickets from the New Island Ministry of Trade for the rest of the trip. In Terminal 1 he boarded a Qantas flight at 3:30 pm bound for Perth, Western Australia. Almost 33 hours later, after stops in Los Angeles and Melbourne, he arrived in Perth about 2:10 in the afternoon, and Alan didn't know what day it was.  From the airport in Perth, he took a taxi to Fremantle, where he had a voucher for the Orient Hotel on the corner of Henry and High Streets.

After spending a lovely and very restful night at the Orient (the corner suite, third floor), Alan had a leisurely breakfast, and then inquired about directions to the Rudyard Line office. The concierge smiled, and with a kind of blank look, replied, "The who"?

3. Getting There

Alan was blown away by the letter.

All he could think about was how could the drawing he sold in Michigan City, Indiana get in the hands of this secretary on a very obscure island in the Indian Ocean? What really seemed cosmic was that he dreamed the subject of the drawing - he had never been further west than his home town of Oceanside! The coastline, the house, the "cargo trike", and the winding road were nothing he had actually seen, at least not in this lifetime.

Alan has made drawings and watercolors from his dreams for many years; and now this one seems to be of a real place.

The woman, Margaret, also sent Alan a road map of the island, that had this little map on the cover...

So Alan realized he must travel from Michigan City, Indiana, USA (click this link) to New Island. 

Alan wrote back saying, "Send me the tickets, I can leave tomorrow!"

2. Alan Gets a Letter

The drawing that eventually found its way to New Island.

Alan, a bit breathless, called Michelle about a week later...

"Hey, you know that show that the Art Club had last fall? And that drawing I did of an imaginary coastline? It sold, and all I knew was that the buyer was visiting from Australia..."

"Yessss," Michelle answered, not sure where this was going.

"Well, I just I got this crazy letter..."

THE COMMONWEALTH OF NEW ISLAND

Office of Wainwright Stevens, Ministry of Trade

Mr. Alan Faramond

671-B Willard Avenue

Michigan City, Indiana 46360

USA

17 March 2012

Dear Mr. Faramond,

     

     I am Margaret Mullen, the Secretary-in-Chief to Mr. Wainwright Stevens, Chief of Tourism. I happen to have in my possession an excellent drawing of our southwest coast that belonged to a local man of my acquaintance. An Australian woman may have purchased it; we are not sure. It has your name and address on the reverse. I brought the drawing to Wainwright’s attention, and we both reviewed more pictures on your ‘Alan’s Art’ website. We decided at once to contact you, since you are obviously familiar with our island.

    We are creating a guidebook that shows the beauty of our island and that depicts the joys of being here. It is our pleasure to request of you, in the capacity of Official Depictor, to produce a series of pictures of our island-nation.

     We will provide you with a list of the places we would like depicted. We can offer you a stipend as well. In return, we ask that you produce hand-made pictures and tourist maps of our island,as requested. The number and completion date of these is to be determined by mutual agreement.
     We are willing to offer transportation to New Island via Perth-Fremantle, Western Australia. When you arrive we will arrange for accommodations, and local transportation.

     Please reply via E-mail or telephone at your earliest convenience, and we will send airline and ship tickets in your name. Also, if you accept our offer, plan to be here for as long as necessary to complete the number of images in question. 

Sincerely,

Margaret

Margaret Mullen, for the Minister

PS: I do hope you say yes. Mr. Stevens has been under pressure to get our island “on the map” to increase international revenue. Your pictures are by far the best we have seen -- you seem to know our island well!

- M.

The Ministry of Trade ▪ 15 Government Hill Mall, The Commonwealth of New Island 1005 ▪ 99-12-334-2995 ▪ trademin1@freenet..ni