La Isla De San Borondon
The day was fine and after breakfast I ventured onto the starboard deck and sat in one of the canvas chairs provided for the comfort of passengers. I counted fifteen on my side of the ship and eight on the port side.
For a while I counted the whitecaps in the sea but stopped at two hundred and seven as the task had begun to fatigue me. For the rest of the hour I read a book about the lives of monastic saints. Soon my senses had faded and I was asleep painting my portraits of long review.
The funnels of my ship which had been bathed in bright sunlight were soon hidden by a descending mist. This same mist initially obscured the island. However at two minutes past three for a period of five minutes exactly we were able to witness this mysterious island which had been recorded by navigators since the time of Christ.
I soon admired the rich flora and wooded qualities of the island which seemed to be almost within touching distance. The beaches were black and shady and very much like her sister islands which we had recently passed. The mountain however was not clear of the mist and I could see no evidence of its summit. There was no sign of either human or animal life on the island although for a second I thought I saw a goat just below the mist line.
As the final seconds of the allocated time elapsed I felt my visual passions fade. The mists returned as quickly as they had parted and soon shielded the island from my view. I walked briskly towards the stern of the ship but there was no evidence of the island. Indeed the troublesome mists had faded and I was witnessing only open water broken by the wake of my recent journey.
As this was the fifth day of our voyage the sailors had laid violet petals on the decks of the ship. There was a strong wind from the west but not one of these petals moved. Only the ribbons of my shoes showed any agitation.
Soon the day lay in the regions of the rest hours and as the night advanced I noted that the ivy clad planets hung heavily in the sky. I counted their ornate cities illuminated by the white light of the moon.
As the airs cooled I found myself retiring and as I sank lower into the sleeping ship I touched the mahogany panelling. It was still warm to the touch having not surrendered the suns earlier caress. A blue scent covered the ship and as I swam through its many curtains towards my empty cabin I knew that I was leaving Japan.