The Ship of Dreams

It was morning. The sun was out and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I was probably around six or seven then, maybe younger since my memory doesn’t serve me very well. Speaking of memories, some of my favorite ones involve the simple things my grandfather would do with my sister and me.

My grandfather’s name was Walter William Hulse and he was a hero. At seventeen, he enlisted in the United States Army where he was deployed to World War II and survived to marry my great-grandmother years later. His birthday was June 30, 1921, which means he grew up during the great depression, and his zodiac sign was a cancer. He and my grandmother married on June 8th, and coincidentally that’s also the day he died eleven years ago when I was the same age he was when he enlisted into the military.

Walter Hulse was a man of many things: humble, kind, generous, and sweet. He was an amazing father figure for me during a time that my own father couldn’t be in my life, and when others were failing. He picked us up every weekend for sleepovers and we ate at restaurants, went shopping, swam in the pool of his apartment complex, and roamed downtown Pensacola looking at all of the statues of painted pelicans.

But there is one memory I have that I’ll never forget and that is seeing my first pirate ship. I always called this memory the Ship of Dreams because for a long time I questioned if what I saw was real. Sometimes I even wondered if I saw a ghost of something that existed long ago, and maybe no one else saw it but me.

My grandfather took me and my sister to this little place that I always loved. I never knew what it was called but now that I’m older I know it was a marina. The ground was perfectly cobblestoned with smooth red bricks and there was a metal fence separating the people from the ocean water. Grandpa used to take us there to feed the seagulls bread and spend time with us. on This particular day in my memory, the sun was out but it wasn’t too hot. I think it was probably around April, maybe May. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the birds were everywhere.

I remember playing by a part of the fence when I heard a loud noise. The water was crashing against the wall of the park. I looked up. The saltwater blew across my face and the sun disappeared from my line of vision. There before me, was a large pirate ship. The black flag with the skull and crossbones waved in the breeze. The dark wood bobbed as the ship came to dock and bounced until the waves it created settled.

I stood, mouth open and eyes wide. I grew up watching Peter Pan and other pirate movies. I knew about pirates but didn’t know they still existed. I turned toward where my grandpa and sister sat on a bench and exclaimed, “Look! It’s a pirate ship” while pointing toward it. My grandpa stood up and came to pull me away from the fence. My sister looked at me and told me it wasn’t real. Then we went home and I never saw it again.

In fact, I had forgotten the memory until the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie came out. As soon as I watched it, my memory flooded back and I almost didn’t believe it was real. After all, pirates don’t exist. At least, not anymore. But I did ask my sister if she remembered the pirate ship eventually. It turns out that the ship had existed. When she said it wasn’t real, she didn’t mean that it wasn’t there and only I could see it. She meant that it wasn’t a real pirate ship.

Now you may be wondering what this means. Why was there a random fake pirate ship at a marina in Pensacola, Florida? Could it have been for a movie or TV show? The answer is no. Here’s the tea: everyone knows that Florida is the destination spot for vacations because of our beaches, sun, and Disney World. However, did you know that here in the small city of Pensacola, there is a local business called Pensacola Pirate Ship Tours? You pay a small fee and they take you on a short cruise on their replica pirate ship. There are events they put on every year, especially around the holidays.

I’m twenty-eight now, and I miss my grandpa so much. I’d never known adventure like when I was a kid and he would show me the world (really it was just Pensacola, but that was my world). I can’t believe it’s been over ten years since he died, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel like he’s got my back still. And that pirate ship may not have been a real pirate ship, or a ghost ship that only I could see; not even something I dreamed about. It may not be as big or dramatic as I remember, but for the little girl that lives in my memories, it was the first time I felt like magic really did exist in the world I lived in. And it was my grandpa that made it happen.