I was piloting a small fishing vessel. I was the only one on board. I was where the Columbia River empties out into the Pacific. The weather was very stormy, raining hard and the wind was blowing. I was aware that the currents might be treacherous, and I could see ahead a section of rapids that I would want to avoid.

As I approached this area, where the sea meets the mighty river, a huge ocean wave started to form. I had no choice but to move forward. My boat was swept up this enormous wave. I was fearful about being tossed right on my back; I was regretting being in the boat all alone and not having someone else help me.

The dream shifted; I was reading from a cosmic newspaper that of the many fishing boats that got caught out in the storm, there was one that did not survive. I wondered if that boat had been mine.

(while photo is from the internets of an actual fishing boat at the mouth of the Columbia being flipped up, please know that in my dream, the wave was at least five times larger than that.)