Theft

I think I might be the victim of a crime. There’s a chance that I have been stolen from. And it makes me happy. I do sincerely hope that it is the case. I hope I didn’t lose the object in question by any other means than theft. I shall explain.

When I was in Redwood City about a year ago as crew on the brig Lady Washington, a man came aboard for a deck tour and started telling me about a three masted, square-rigged ship he had seen in Argentina. I suggested it might have been the ‘Europa’ out of The Hague and he promised to bring me a picture the next day. He did and it indeed was the beautiful Dutch barque. He gave me the picture to remember the nice people of Redwood City. Henceforth, I have used it as a bookmark.

Now, a year later, I am in Laos. My parents are on a vacation trip here, and Wynne and I met up with them ten days ago. While on a river cruise down the Mekong River, I got out my book to read. Seeing the bookmark I showed it to my mama because the ‘Europa’ is a sight well worth sharing. A crew member, a young server, happened to come by at that very moment and I realized that he hesitated for a second, his eyes drawn to the majestic vessel on the photograph.

Soon thereafter, we stopped to visit the village of a hill tribe that still lives in a very traditional way by the shores of the mighty Mekong, and I left the book on our table. Upon our return, I realized that my bookmark was missing.

Now, there are a few possible explanations for this. A gust of wind could have blown the book open and taken the picture with it—even on this calm day. Or it could simply have fallen out of the book and slipped over the wooden sole of the boat out of sight. But I fancy the thought that the server, a boy who could hardly have been older than 18 years, took it.

But why do I want that? It is the stolen object that makes me think that way—or rather the concept that was apprehended, because this deed was not about an object and it was not really a theft, either.

Out of all the cameras on board, all the wallets, passports, watches, computers, smart phones, iPads’n’Pods, out of all the things that can be turned into money, this boy decided to snag the picture of a beautiful ship. But what does a sailor on a Mekong river boat need the photo of a Dutch barque for? The only answer I can come up with is to dream. The photo does not represent any monetary value to speak of. It does, however, speak of adventure, of faraway places, of the age of sail, and of the ocean that the landlocked and poor Laotians rarely ever get to see.

This boy did not steal a picture, he snagged the right to share a dream. I have dreamt of crewing on the ‘Europa’ someday. I still do, which means that he didn’t steal that dream from me. He couldn’t. He merely asked for the right to share it.

I believe and want to believe that he took the picture. Call me romantic—I don’t care. But this gives me hope. The fact that this kid went for a dream instead of money gives a great insight into his value system and it makes me believe that it might not be too late for us after all.