Ask Raven — the wise one listens, and answers with song.

A lone sailor crosses the Tasman Sea under brutal conditions.
No crew. No engine. No certainty.
Only discipline, endurance, and the quiet weight of time.

When the mast is struck and direction is lost, the sea does not rage.
It waits.
And waiting becomes the test.

This spoken-word sea story reflects on survival, restraint, and the moments when rescue is not loud — only earned.

🪶 Ask Raven Native Art is now live.
Original Indigenous art inspired by Raven’s witness and the sea’s ledger.
🔗 https://askravennativeart.etsy.com

What you forget, Raven remembers.
Through fire and embers, Raven remembers.
Nevermore. Nevermore. Nevermore.

Ask Raven — Ship in Distress: Boxing Day Rescue on the North Sea

Ask Raven — where the wise one watches from above and memory moves like wings over water.

On the North Sea, Boxing Day doesn’t mean leftovers or quiet houses. It means short daylight, winter seas, and choices that matter. A fishing vessel loses power. No storm, no flames—just silence, and winter removing the margin.

Raven circles above.
Not to judge, not to interfere—only to remember.

This is the story of hands finding hands across cold water,
of trained calm instead of panic,
and of a rescue measured not in noise,
but in will.

If you’ve lived a moment at sea that stayed with you, and you feel comfortable sharing it:
📩 ghostboatadventures@gmail.com

What you forget, Raven remembers.
Through fire and embers, Raven remembers.
Nevermore. Nevermore. Nevermore.

• maritime storytelling

• winter sea rescue

• north sea

• ask raven

• spoken word

• docudrama

• boxing day rescue

• coastal stories

Ask Raven.
For the wise one listens,
and answers with song from winter waters
where memory drifts and clings.

Each year, as the cold tightens its grip on Lake Michigan,
sailors speak of a ship that never finished its voyage.
A schooner bound with evergreen trees.
A deck glowing softly in snow and fog.
Seen only at night.
Gone by morning.

Some say it is a ghost ship.
Some say it is caught in a loop —
forever returning,
forever unfinished.

In this Ask Raven short,
I circle above the lake and tell the tale
of the Christmas Tree Ship
and the silence that follows her wake.

Listen closely.
Winter remembers what the water keeps.

What you forget, Raven remembers.
Through fire and embers, Raven remembers.
Nevermore. Nevermore. Nevermore.