sailor's grave: a somber tribute to lost souls

Seaside, Oregon

All photos in this post were taken by yours truly at Seaside Cove / Sailor’s Grave in Seaside, Oregon

I didn’t mean to leave you waiting, a cold red beacon on the shore. Searching the abyss… Waiting forevermore.

At first you didn’t believe it. You thought I would come home. We don’t enjoy the parties when the memories are gone.

Rain streaks across the panes. Birds canteen the rocky beach. You beckon me to safety, but I am always out of reach.

I just keep rowing and rowing. My eyes are dead. My head tilts to the side. But still I can’t die. I row on, over and over, beyond the coast—never quite making it.

Your sadness calls to me.

The wind coming off the surf battles in reverse, floods the raging ocean to meet the swarming tide. Power surge and waves collide, and still I can’t cry.

I just watch.

Watch and hold tightly to the splintered wooden oars.

I never knew I could be so raptured by striations in the sand.

You wait and wait, and I can’t stop you. You will never be whole again. It’s the not knowing that sinks you slowly.

I am drawn to your pain like metal to a magnet, every time you come looking. I drift in, slimy detritus stirring beneath your feet. I claw the hollow sand—the tide tugs me back out to sea.

Seagulls pick at me like so many forests of kelp, oozing sludge between the stones.

What creatures lie in wait to be discovered in deeper seas? It remains a mystery… Until you let me go.

I pray you sit and listen. Listen to the rain as it patters the metal frame. Truly listen. It is not your tears, nor mine. Let it soothe you. Let it go.

Watch it drip drip dripping down, pooling patterns on the glass. Fall into a trance. Everything inside you can relax. Let it.

Let it go.

Let me go.

Feel the earth shifting. Feel the walls around you shaking in the wind. It feels like breathing. You are breathing my own breath.

The steady in and out, cut off by lower tides of feeling. Rocky battles of the wind and rain, colliding with each wave.

Breathe and toss your arms out wide. Embrace the wind and know within your deepest anguished grieving heart that you are not alone.

Take a walk along the shore, but do not let it drag you down. Do not fear or pine for me. Let the wind whip your hair, let the rain soak your clothes.

Let the rain soak your bones and you will scream out with delight. With laughter. With relish.

Your chest feels light—that weight is gone. Do not hold back. I am here with you.

I am here in the weathered rocks and trees that bend to meet the wind, ghosts of storms long past. Purple flowers come back to life through thick and thistle paths.

I am here in the foggy mountain tops, tethered to the trees. The mist between the leaves. Just look at them and breathe. And let it be.

Do not miss me.

I am here.

---

This post was inspired by the Sailor’s Grave in Seaside, Oregon.

“For over 150 years it’s been there, pretty much in the same spot. Known more or less officially as the “sailors grave,” it’s Seaside’s equivalent of a tomb of the unknown soldier, but in this case it’s men who sailed the sea. No one knows the identities of the men and no one ever will.

Whoever they were, they drowned here on the Oregon coast even before Seaside had its name.”

-By Oregon Coast Beach Connection Staff: “Seaside's 'Sailors Grave' an Intricate N. Oregon Coast Mystery”

I visited this brooding beach during my travels to the Oregon Ghost Conference last week. The day was dark and dismal, with squalls sweeping along the ocean so fiercely that the ripples crashed against the oncoming waves. The rain fell hard and fast, and the pines were tossed about as I hiked the soggy path along the shore, searching for this lonely tribute to the lost sailors.

Unmarked graves are always tragic, but having a place to acknowledge what little we know—and a place for loved ones to grieve—is so important. I hope you find it as sorrowfully captivating and meaningful as I did.

Hauntingly yours,
dreary dendrophile

Thank you so much for being here and for taking the time to read. You can also buy me a coffee if you would like to provide additional support. You all are loved beyond measure.