The Third Voyage of Sinbad, by Charles Robinson (1870 – 1937)

[Webshaykh’s Note: This last semester I taught an Honors Seminar on the Arabian Nights. The last assignment asked students to write the 8th voyage of Sindbad, drawing on what happened in earlier voyages. I will post several of these here for your enjoyment. This is the fifth one I am publishing by Becky Cuthbertson The fourth is by Mahmoud Abdelaziz. The third is by Peter Otis. The second is by Marissa Priest. For the first by Taryn Teurfs, click here.]

The Eighth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
by Becky Cuthbertson

For many years after his seventh journey, my father Sindbad the Sailor stayed at home, resuming his former lifestyle. He was joyous at my birth and that of my sister’s. We lead a life of indulgence and happiness; we had all the luck in the world. Many years later, my father sat at home with his wife, my mother, by the fire; they watched my sister and I play. He thought that it was a shame that my sister and I would never meet our grandfather; my parents fled my grandfather’s great city where men turn into birds and my father swore never to sail again. Smiling at my mother, he announced that we were journeying to see our grandfather; we were sailing next week.

My mother looked at him curiously, “Husband, have you not sworn to never sail the seas again?”

He smiled broadly, “Yes my dear but I shall press my luck one more time; I am not sailing for excitement or adventure but to visit family. Allah should not begrudge me that.”

So the following week we set off, sailing to find the city of my grandfather. A few days out to sea, a storm hit. The ship was rolling, rain down pouring, and wind gusts pitched the ship from side to side, almost capsizing us several times. All of us prayed to the Almighty God to protect us, save us, and deliver us from harm while the crew worked to stabilize the ship. Lightening began to strike off in the distance, but at every crash, a bolt loomed nearer and nearer. The captain bolted down below and brought up with him chalk. Murmuring to himself, he began to draw patterns all along the rails.

“Captain,” my father called, “why are you drawing with chalk all over the ship?”

“My friends,” the captain wailed, “We have crossed into the Realm of the Jinn Mazin and Nur, whom curse all who cross their path. To protect us, we must write our prayers to try to fend them away. I know not if it shall work, for none who enter, return. We must pray to Allah and inscribe them on the ship to try and ensure safe passage!” We all join him in writing our prayers for safe passage along the rails. It was then the lightning struck our ship, sending shards of wood everywhere, breaking our ship apart. We were scattered from the collapse, most of the ship burning. My sister and I clung to pieces of flotsam, unable to see others through the wreckage and smoke. As our eyes cleared of the smoke, we saw our parents, clinging on pieces of flotsam too; we were the only ones left alive.

The storm died down and the waves carried us to the shores of an island. We rolled onto the beach, gasping for air. Getting ourselves, we looked around surroundings. Looking around, my father gasped; then we all saw it too. There were apes. Everywhere. Just beyond the small span of beach lay jungles full of tree and apes climbing, walking, moving, everywhere.

“Father,” I asked. “Was this the same island of apes that you were on last time?”

“No,” he replied. Gathering ourselves, we set about exploring the island, attempting to find other people or a safe place to stay for a little while. There seemed to be no one on the island but the apes and ourselves. We trudged around the jungles and along the beach, for the apes did not seem to venture out of their woodlands. Eventually we found a path along a river in the island that led us up a mountain to a cave. We huddled inside, away from the sea gusts and noises of the apes. My sister and I set about exploring the cave while my father and mother worked to build a fire to keep us warm.

“Father! Mother!” My sister cried as she reached the back of the cave. We all rushed back there only to discover marvelous jewels and gold, glowing from the firelight.

“What marvelous treasure is this?” I gasped. “Who on this island hoards such a treasure? Surely not the apes, for they hold no value to coin and jewels.”

My father shrugged and began gathering coins, “I do not know but it does not matter, it’s ours now.” We gathered what we could into our pockets, hoping that it would safely make the journey back with us, assuming we got home.

We stayed in the cave for several days, venturing out only to gather food and wood to fuel the fire. One day we heard voices outside the cave, “Think the apes guarded everything well?”

“I doubt it, they rarely venture this high into the mountain.”

“Think anyone came and took anything?”

“No, no one has stumbled upon our island in months. Everything should be right where we left…” The two men stepped into the cave. They looked much like normal men but something felt off. Seeing our fire, theirs eyes were ablaze. “WHO DARE ENTER OUR CAVE?” We remained hidden and silent in the back. They glanced around the cave but saw none of us. Nodding to each other both of them left the cave seemingly headed in opposite directions, in search of the intruders.

My father slowly rose from behind a pile of jewels. Nodding to us, we all quietly moved through the cave, attempted to leave without those men finding us. Just as we got to the mouth, we heard a shout, “THERE!” I looked behind us. There were the men on top of the cave, jumping down they transformed before our eyes into part lion part human beasts.

I whispered, “Jinn.” My sister grabbed my hand and the four of us fled towards the beach, chased by the jinn. We followed the river down towards the beach, my sister and I flying ahead of our parents. We hear a crash and cry behind us. Turning, we see that our mother has fallen, twisting her ankle.

“Go!” My father Sindbad shouts at us, as he picks up our mother. He runs after us, carrying our mother as the jinn chase us. Nearing the beach, my sister and I dive into the jungle to try to lose the jinn. We continue running at a slower pace. My father does not follow us. He continues straight for the beach. Just as he hits the last section of the hill, my father trips and he and my mother go flying. My father lands with a thud on the soft beach near the water on the other side of a sand dune. My mother lands on the rocky hillside and rolls down the last part of the hill. She falls unconscious against the gravely beach. I grab my sister and hold her tight against the base of a large tree. Covering her mouth, I hold my finger to my mouth, intent on keeping her silent until the jinn were gone. I could not risk us being seen.

The jinn catch our mother first. Turning back into their human form, one holds her up while the other searches the pockets of her dress.

“Nur,” the first says holding up some of the coins that he found in mother’s pockets.

“Seems like we have a thief on our hands Mazin,” acknowledged the other. Nodding they empty her pockets, break her neck and walk away. Their voices faded as they said, “Mazin, I think having the apes guard the cave did not work.”

“No, you are right Nur. It surely failed.”

When I was sure that the jinn had moved back towards the cave at the top of the mountain, I released my hold on my sister. She gasped and broke down sobbing at my feet. Lifting her into my arms, I carry her past our mother to our father on the other side of the sand dune. My father finally manages to stand, only to see our mother lying there on the ground, lifeless. He rushes to her body crying, wailing, over her death, for he could do nothing to save her. Ahead of us lay a cave at the bottom of a cliff. My father composed himself enough to pick up his wife’s body and carry it over to the cave. I followed him, carrying my bawling sister. In the back of the cave, the ground was soft enough for my father and me to dig a grave for my mother, my father’s wife. Silent tears streamed down my face as my father and I dug the grave. My sister, still sobbing, ripped a piece of cloth from the bottom of her skirt and cleaned our mother’s face with it. Our hearts shattered as we lowered her body into the ground.

We stayed in the cave, gathering ourselves, as we mourned the loss of our mother together. One day my father looked out into the distant sea, beyond our cave, and saw a ship nearing the island. He looked to me and said, “Sa’di, build a raft for you and your sister. Go upon that ship and find a way home. I will stay here. It is custom in many places for the living spouse to be buried with the dead one, so that they may be together forever. I failed to abide by that custom the first time I married, I shall honor it properly this time.” I start to argue with him but he stops me, “Do not argue with me on this my son. Take care of your sister. Everything I own I leave to you.” He gives me one final hug before walking away, deeper into the cave to where my sister lay sleeping. Shaking my head, I did as my father asked and quickly roped together a raft from the trees and vines bordering the jungle.

As I finished the raft, my father placed the last of the gold and jewels he had in my hand. “Use it to pay any fees along your way so that you may get home safely. With this, the captain should take you and your sister on. Stay safe and know that we love you.” My sister gave my father a tearful hug before he dragged the raft to the sea and forced us onto it. We began drifting away. Calling back to him, he just stared at us as we floated towards the ship, knowing we would never see each other again.

Suddenly, he changed his mind. He started swimming after us. We called to him and tried to paddle our way back to him. Our efforts were fruitless. A wave came crashing down on beloved Sindbad the sailor pushing him below. Our makeshift raft arrived at the large ship where we were able to climb safely aboard. The captain had us wrapped us in blankets but I tried to break away to see if I could find my father. The captain held me back, shaking his head.

“Where are you headed? Where are you from? Just dry up and we’ll take you there.”

“We are from Baghdad, and I guess that is where we are headed,” I whisper, knowing our journey to see our grandfather would be fruitless, worthless, and reckless after this.

Smiling, the captain replied, “You’re in luck then, because that’s where we’re headed. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” We nod gratefully as I pull my sister close. I look behind us one last time before being lead down below to see if I could catch a glimpse of my father. The last thing I saw was a body floating into the cave, my father’s body. One lone tear fell down my face as thought, ‘at least he is with mother now.’

I followed my sister’s footsteps down the stair, attempting to shake the thoughts of my parents’ deaths from my head. As lucky as my father Sindbad the Sailor had been, I guess he pressed his luck a little too far.

I said a quick prayer to Allah, thanking him for my sister’s and my lives, asking for protection on the journey ahead, and praying that our parents’ souls are safely with Him now. Thus ends the eighth and final voyage of my father, Sindbad the Sailor.