The Principality of Sealand

The Principality of Sealand          
I was scribbling down some ideas for my book on a notepad when it happened. It was never silent around there, but eventually you didn’t hear the waves anymore. An engine is different though. In the evening when the fishing boats return I can hear them sputtering about on the ocean. This was a single boat and it was too early for the fishermen. I pushed the light metal door open and stepped onto the deck. I could see a ship, but it looked more like some sort of speed boat than anything I normally saw around here. I went to get my shotgun.
         I had bought it in Ipswich a couple weeks ago. I had a hell of a time getting it. In the US you could buy a shotgun at the grocery store as long as you were twelve years old. Here you have to be a citizen and you have to get some complicated hunting license. Initially all I needed it for was to kill these damn sea gulls who kept stealing the fish off my lines. One of the fishermen told me someone I could meet in Ipswich so I took a coach into town and when I got there I was able to buy a gun for way too much. He also told me he’d buy shells for me whenever I wanted. Luckily I’d bought a dozen or so boxes and so I had some when I needed them.
         I checked the box beside the gun and there were only a couple left. I broke the gun in half and nothing popped out. For some reason I had decided to keep all my ammo in the magazine which was on the bottom most floor. I knew it was a magazine not because there was anything in there when I arrived, but because it was labeled “Magazine.” In fact there were two magazines, one in the left column and one in the right. I climbed down the metal ladder four floors. The floor right before you descend into the magazine is a chapel. There is one wooden bench and a waist high altar in the round room. A single bulb socket hangs from the ceiling and an empty cross is on the steel wall behind the altar.
         I’d spent a lot of time in the chapel. At first I wouldn’t go there for any specific reason and I didn’t really even consider my time there religious. I usually just sat on the bench or stood behind the altar and reveled in the eeriness of the place. After a while I’d started to come down here to write my book. I would bring my electric lantern and my notepad and think about things. I found that when you separate yourself from the world you can really start to understand it. I started to understand what it meant to own property. When the boat first came I started to understand what it meant to defend it.
The thing is this property isn’t really mine. It’s called Sealand and it belongs to this guy who calls himself Prince Michael. After World War Two the English Military abandoned this place and some guy from their army moved out to this base and claimed it as his own. It’s basically two round concrete pillars that support a platform and on top of the platform there’s a shack. In the shack there is a living room that is furnished with a couple orange sofas and a kitchenette that doesn’t work without electricity. In each column are rooms stacked on top of each other. There is a generator room, a bunkroom, the chapel and then the magazine. There is nothing but water as far as you can see around the thing. The pillars go all the way to the sea floor.
It’s pretty crazy how I ended up here. About two and a half years ago I was looking for some sort of existential youthful experience. I found out about Sealand from the internet and thought it’d be cool to live there for a while. I sent Prince Michael a letter and after a long time he responded. He told me that he didn’t live there because it was too expensive to run the power and heating. He also told me that he was selling it and that he didn’t want anyone staying out there messing things up. After these letters got to me I pretty much gave up on the idea and started looking at train hopping as an alternative. It was about this time that I won a radio call in competition and got two roundtrip tickets to London. It was also about this time that I got evicted from my apartment. The flight to London was coming up, but I didn’t have any money and was looking for some cheap enough place to live and doubted such a thing existed. I remembered Sealand when I saw an ad for Sea-World. I managed to sell my extra ticket for some cash and I made the trip.
Then two years later I was standing in the magazine groping around on the floor for the shells. I couldn’t afford to have the power on either so the only light down in the columns was from a two by two manhole four floors up. I found a box and emptied fistfuls of ammo into my pockets. After dumping out two boxes I hopped back on the ladder and climbed toward the deck.
I had survived the whole time there by fishing. When I first arrived I’d had the foresight to buy fishing line and some bait. I found out that I could tie the line around the perimeter of the structure and let it drop thirty feet into the water and that within twenty four hours I would usually catch something or lose the bait on every line.
For the first few months I expected Prince Michael to show up, reclaim his country and throw me into the water. He never came and for two years I didn’t see anyone but fishermen who sailed out from the nearby villages. After the first week I had run out of propane for the grill and was low on bean supply. I waved down a fishing boat as it was steaming toward the shore. The boat pulled up beside Sealand and they shouted up at me.
“Can we help you?” a man in yellow overalls asked me.
“Yes,” I said realizing I hadn’t spoken in a week. “I was wondering if I could get a ride into town.”
On the way back to shore I made a deal with that boat. Every day they would stop by Sealand on the way back to shore. They would buy the fish I had caught and in return I had a sort of credit with them. When I needed a supply from town they would drop it off the next day. This way I didn’t really have to leave Sealand and the longer I was there the more I wanted to stay. So things went on like this for a while.
The way that boat was speeding directly toward me told me it wasn’t any friendly fishermen. If they were going to try to take my home then they weren’t going to do it without a fight. I say it was my home because it was on International Waters which means that there is no law that protects it from being taken. I had lived and struggled to survive there so it seems like it was mine more than anyone’s. I had never owned anything before I came to Sealand and now that I did it was my duty to defend it. I stuck my head out of the manhole into the breeze. The sky was a solid mass of grey cloud. The sea was only a slightly darker version of that same hue. I broke my gun open and pulled a couple shells from my pocket. Only a couple more minutes until the boat was in range. I pushed the shells into the chambers.
I snapped the barrel back and lifted myself onto the deck. They would assume that no one was here so I needed to stay out of sight for as long as I could. I got onto one knee and shuffled over to the edge of the platform. I kept back so that I could only see the boat’s wake and they couldn’t see my head. I wanted to hit the ship, but I didn’t want to hit anyone. I started to hear music from the ship. A techno beat was thumping in my ears. I edged up until I could see the whole boat. I shouldered the gun and shot once. I ducked before I could tell if my shot hit. People were yelling franticly in Dutch or something. They had cut the music. I propped my head up and saw the boat cut a sharp turn. All the men were lying flat on the deck. The boat sped off and after a few minutes it was out of sight.
I felt such a rush of adrenaline after that. I knew that there was no way that they wouldn’t come back and probably with guns. I went back into the living room and got my CD player. I started to get real jittery after all the excitement. I went down into the chapel and sat on the bench. As I sat there my vision started to adjust and I could make out the curve of the walls. I felt as though I was embarking on a battle I couldn’t win, but it was my duty to protect Sealand
It was after I had lived there for a couple months that I felt more at ease in the place. I never really felt ill at ease, but I suppose I felt more like this place belonged to me. I was always expecting the Prince to show up, but as his letter described he really didn’t live here and I ended up thinking he’d never come. I knew every rust spot and every bolt in the place. I would exercise by starting in the magazine which was buried within the bottom of one of the columns. I would climb the stairs through the chapel, through the dormitory, past the generator then I would be on the deck. I would run through the kitchen and living room and then down through the generator, dorm, chapel and end up in the magazine that was in the bottom of the second column. I ran this course back and forth a few times until I was out of breath. When it warmed I could swim too, but in the ocean I felt like if I swam too far Sealand might float away.
After living there about a year I started to write a book on property. I thought about how when you live in society you can’t own any property except for your ideas. Property tax is like paying the government rent. If you don’t pay the tax then they take your home. Even if Wal-Mart wants to buy your house you don’t have a choice anymore.  You don’t own your body either since the government can draft you. If you express your ideas in anyway someone can steal those too. Copyright laws don’t really protect anything. Out here only I own myself. I own Sealand because I’m the one who lives here. I own my body because no one can force me to do anything. As I sat in the dark with my hands shaking I realized that when you really own something you have to defend it with your life.
I took my headphones off. The wind was blowing hard over the manhole. I thought I heard the sound of the fishing ships. I needed to be on guard because at some point they were going to come back. If it was Prince Michael or if it was someone who had bought the place it wouldn’t make any difference. Even before I bought my gun I had fantasies of a group of bandits who were coming to take Sealand for themselves. I imagined them coming in huge groups with dozens of boats. I would stand on top of the roof of the living room with a shotgun resting on my forearm. I shot from my hip and hit them one at a time. They would scream and fall into the water. Blood would cloud about them. After I bought my gun I realized shooting from the shoulder was painful and shooting from the hip was probably impossible. I think it may have been close to a year when I got the gun and for a while, as I shot the birds, I saw visions of the attacking bandits. Their heads would burst and a mist of blood would spray out. Then I imagined Prince Michael. I had seen a picture of him online and I remembered he was fat and had a bit of a pig face. The image wasn’t really clear in my mind, but I made do. The first seagull I imagined as him was circling around Sealand. It was probably the best shot I’d ever hit and the bird made a nice spiral before it landed soundlessly in the water.
After sitting in the dark chapel for a while I had calmed down. I needed to start preparing. I climbed down into the magazine. With my eyes adjusted I could see the ammo. I had spilled about half of them onto the ground earlier. I took off my shirt and collected the shells in it. I probably had enough to fight off twenty of those boats. I climbed up the ladder toward the light. On the deck I saw the fishing boats chugging across the darkening water. I went into the living room and threw my shotgun on the couch. I dumped the shells out on top of it and pulled on my shirt. I started to drag up my fishing lines. I had caught three fish. I would keep one to eat and sell the other two. I used my fingers to pry out the hooks.
“Anybody home?” someone yelled from the ship. I stood up. The boat cut their engine and I saw the captain standing with his hands on his waist.
“Yeah sure am. I’ve got a couple cod.” I decided it’d be best not to mention anything to them. “Here ya go.” I tossed the fish onto their deck.
“Got a bread loaf and a bag a salt for you.” He held up the loaf and salt. “Here ya go.” He lobbed them onto the platform. He waved and the boat pulled away.
That night I didn’t sleep. I sat on the couch with my notepad and wrote. I leaned my lantern on the couch beside me and wrote all night. I thought about the necessity of defending your property. In a land where a government doesn’t own anything it is the individual’s responsibility to protect both themselves and their property. Even if that speed boat wasn’t Prince Michael coming to take back Sealand I knew that eventually he’d find out I was here and that I’d be forced out. My time here was almost up and I wasn’t sure how far I would go to protect it. 
         In the night all the clouds had blown off and the next morning the sky was a blue so dark that it seemed to extend into infinity. I cut up the cod I had caught last night and I salted all the filets expect one. I cooked the unsalted one with butter and ate it on bread. All day I sat on the deck. I would sometimes listen to music for a few minutes and then rip off my headphones, afraid I’d heard something. About midday a couple seagulls landed on the roof of the living room. They would jump up into the air and glide around for a couple seconds then land back on the roof. I was afraid to shoot them because I wanted to save all my ammo, but I knew it would help me relax. I loaded two shots and stood up. I aimed the barrel on one and waited. It jump up and I let it gain a little altitude. I saw Prince Michael’s bored face telling me that I must leave Sealand forever. The barrel kicked against my shoulder and the bird’s body dove into the sea. I aimed at the second seagull. This time the bird jumped down as if diving into the water and then swung back up. It was flying directly towards me. I imagined Prince Michael’s head and he told me that he could see into my mind. I shot and the feathers spewed out onto the wind. The body fell onto the bright water. It floated there for a few seconds and then sank under.
         That night I still couldn’t sleep. I would sit for a few hours at a time my eyes wide open, but unable to see anything. Then I would get up and pace around the cabin or go outside and make a few laps around the deck. I attempted to finish my chapter on defending property, but each time I wrote a word my mind would fill with white noise. I tried to lie down and get some rest so I’d be ready when they came, but I would hear the waves and the wind and imagine that the speed boat was coming again. I checked my gun every few hours to make sure it was still loaded.
         When the morning came it was colorless. The clouds were heavy. I sat on the roof of the cabin looking for birds or boats. A few hours past sunrise I was peeing down into the water when I saw them. One boat again, the same one probably. I dashed into the living room and grabbed the gun. I raked shells off the sofa into my pockets until they were full. The boat looked about thirty minutes away. I climbed onto the roof of the cabin and checked my gun again.
         It wasn’t long before I could hear the boat’s buzz. I slid back so that only the top of my head was over the edge of the roof. It was the same boat, but this time no one was on deck. The boat slowed down before it reached Sealand. It turned to the side.
         A bullhorn said, “Hello intruder, this is Prince Michael of Sealand. I do not know who you are and I have not given you permission to be at Sealand. Please vacate now.”
         I let off a shot into the water by the boat. The boat lurched forward. It started in a circle around Sealand.
         A Dutch accent said, “We are from Bit Torrents Online and we have purchased Sealand from Prince Michael. You do not have legal right to this property. We are asking you to leave immediately.”
         I crawled up to the edge again and aimed at the boat. I shot once and hit the bow. I crawled back from the ledge and got up on one knee.
         Prince Michael again, “if you insist on reacting violently then we will have no choice but to impress International Law on you.”
         The ship continued in its arc for a couple more seconds then turned to retreat. I stood up so that they could see me. I took two more shells out of my pocket and pressed them into the gun. I closed the barrel and raised it to my shoulder. I aimed for the boat again. They were saying something over the intercom, but I couldn’t hear it. I was yelling as loud as I could. I shot twice at their boat. They sped up.
         That day I caught five fish. I didn’t tell the fishermen about what happened again, but I thought they’d probably figure it out soon enough. I asked them to bring me three times as much groceries as they normally did. I figured I might not see them for a while. That night I felt a lot more relaxed. If they were going to come back it would be at least another day. I fell down on the sofa and picked up my notepad. I’d almost filled the whole thing, 300 pages. I put the notebook under my shirt and fell asleep.
I woke up to a loud pop. I jumped to my feet. Something flew through the window and skidded across the floor. One minute I was staring at the floor and the next I was blinded. I crouched behind the sofa hoping my blindness would subside when I heard another pop. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I wrapped my arms around my chest. The notebook was still in my shirt. Again something skidded across the floor and then there was a hissing. Gas was the last thing I remember thinking that night.
I woke up lying on a cot in a jail cell. My head was throbbing and when I started to open my eyes the overhead light amplified the pain. After a few minutes I managed to open them all the way. A sign on the wall read Ipswich Municipal Jail. After everything I was captured by the government. If I had known that they were going to take me like this I would have fought back. Even if they had machine guns and I had been killed it would be better. They came in the night and took everything I owned. I hadn’t been off Sealand since I bought my gun. As soon as I got out I was going back.
An officer came and took me out of the cell. Apparently they were letting me go then. He told me that although shooting people was normally illegal since it was in international waters no one could charge me. I nodded. He opened up a drawer on his desk. He threw my notepad and pen on the table.
“We aren’t going to give you all the ammo back, but you can take these.” He pushed them toward me.
My headache made me dizzy. “Thank you.”
I stepped out of the station. It seemed to be about midday and the sun warmed my sleeves. The sky was again the dark blue of infinity. Clouds waded through. A little boy was chasing his friend down the street. I held up my notepad and flipped through the pages. I bent down and smelled it. Nothing was missing. I heard a seagull call out. A flock of them flew over my head. They landed on the roofs, plucking and preening their feathers. I’d never see Sealand again.