I saw Fabio Romani the other day, not long ago. He was kind enough to enter my submarine on his long journey, unknown to me then, to the Land of the Forgone. He was truly a Jolly Sailor who showed me a thing or two about being at sea at our meeting. However, he had never been in a submarine. He inspected my submarine and was impressed with what he saw. He asked me “is this where you launch your mutinous torpedoes and cruise missiles from?” I was too shy or embarrassed to answer. After giving him the splendid and informed tour of the ocean’s bed I finally took him to the Davy Jones Locker’s rendezvous. When we both entered the rendezvous, he was surprised to see a third fellow there, another outstanding sailor who did not want to be disturbed. They coldly exchange brief greetings. The Locker was too cold for liveliness and people do not elect to reside there; it’s either Adam’s Punishment or Cap’n Blood Punishment; Fabio was there for the former, I was there for the latter.
After long silence, it seems he had not much to say to me, I presented him with a bottle of Olololo, the best rum you could find in the Caribbean or any sea beyond. Fabio accepted the drink and prayed “your sails will forever be rough, over lands and seas and especially under waters, mate” to which I said “amen” but was humbled. It was a cold but reverent moment. Afterwards he downed three generous shots of rum then he asked me where the Great Gang Way was. I took him to the Great Door that opened onto the Great Gang Way. We could hear muffled noises emanating from it. It appears that merriment was going on behind the Door but I didn’t want to know about it. In fact, I would not go near the Great Door, I stood far from it while he proceeded. But like a genuine man of the sea and an ocean current tested sailor, he approached the Door without qualms and it slowly opened letting clear sounds merriment into the chambers of the Locker but it suddenly went silent as if for him and he crossed the Gang Way to the other side. As the Great Door closed the sound of greater merriment exploded. Time had separated us, only time. Water started to run away from my eyes and kept running and kept running. Fabio had taken the great step of many to join the Foregone Travellers of the Sea, a great finality to a great vocation. Meanwhile, I didn’t spend long at Davy Jones Locker rendezvous, even though I was confined there never to leave. No prison guards there, so I left it in the hurry. I had an ocean to explore submerged with the Locker only being a rendezvous. I intend to come to the surface soon.
Rest in Peace, O Fabio, Grand Matelot of the Seas.
The Forgone Are Forever…
Be good, Not lucky.