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Dying in the North Atlantic - Charles Mansford

patrick1882

New Member
I have joined your forum today so I can have a place to share things that I normally keep private. I have remembered parts of the life and death I am about to describe since childhood. Over the last year and a half I have taken these memories more seriously. I have brought all of my recollections together into the following story.

I was Charles Mansford, a shipwright and marine architect, who died at sea in about 1850.
I was a British subject that lived and worked in Nova Scotia. I had a partnership with a blacksmith/machinist. Together we retrofitted existing sailing ships with steam Engines. The engines did not provide propulsion they powered pumps and deck equipment like the windlass for raising the anchors.

I was in my mid-thirties and was married to Anna who was thin and had a beautiful face and long dark curly hair. We had a young daughter named Sara, who also had long dark curly hair. I had red hair and a goatee like beard with no mustache. I liked to wear a reddish-brown leather apron when I worked. Sometimes I wore the apron when I was at home. We lived in a two story frame house with high gables and a rough limestone chimney.

We repaired and refitted a British ship that was about 120 feet long and had a narrow pointed bow. I replaced a considerable amount of planking on the port side near the beam and just below the waterline. The planking I removed was mostly rotten but some short pieces were sound enough to reuse. I built a deck house for the engine and gave it a curved roof made from the planking. We made iron line shafts that ran under the deck from the engine to the pumps and winches.

We were asked to sail to England on the ship to make certain everything was working properly. I remember saying goodbye in our kitchen, hugging Anna and going down on my knees to hug Sara.

We sailed northeast to the Gulf Stream. We hoped to ride the current most of the way to England. Early one morning the ship was shaken with a loud thud as if she had hit a rock. The chain locker in the bow began to fill with water and the new steam powered pumps were put to good use. When the sun came up we could see that we had hit a small ship that was floating upside down in the current along side us.

We cleared out all of the anchor chain and discovered that the planking was stove in on the starboard bow and the third, fourth and filth frames aft of the stem where broken.
I fitted heavy timber braces to push the fames and planking back into place. It was difficult to work in the bow as it lifted and fell with the seas. So we headed to a inlet just west of the southern most tip of Greenland. As the tide went out we were left careened on the sand. The angle was steep but it was easier than riding the waves.

I sistered timber to the fames using square headed bolts that my partner forged in the seam engine’s fire box. As the repair progressed the frames took on there original shape and the timber bracing became lose. The tide started to come in and the bow lifted. A large timber fell from above and struck me on the back of the head.

The blow killed me instantly. After returning to the open sea I was sewn into some sail cloth with some of my tools at my feet and the bit brace I was using when I died over my heart.
 
Hi Patrick,

Welcome to the forum. :)

Thanks for sharing your story with us. It sounds like your memories are quite detailed!

Have you ever tried to trace Charles, Anna or Sara Mansford through genealogical records?

Do you have any other memories of Charles's life? Perhaps his childhood -- prior to going to Nova Scotia?

I have joined your forum today so I can have a place to share things that I normally keep private.

I understand that feeling well -- but I can assure you that you've come to the right place for sharing, learning and discussion. Everyone here is friendly and supportive. :D

I look forward to hearing more of your story!

Ailish
 
I am a very detailed person.
The death memory came first and I am working my way backwards. I have not remembered anything earlier than I described yet.
I could have put the words “maybe” or “something like” in front of the names I used but it makes for a better story if I sound positive about the names. I will start looking for records when I know the names are correct.
 
Hello Patrick (from an ex-Chicagoan)

Welcome to the forum. Your story was indeed detailed, how wonderful. How did these memories begin. Or the better question might be, when and how did you realize they were a past life? Are there any related skills or traits in your life today?

I look forward to hearing more of your memories, thank you for joining the forum!

The Tinkerman
 
As a child I had memories of being a shipwright in the 1800s but no one wanted to hear the story. I mostly forgot what I had remembered back then. I grew up in St. Louis but was always drawn to the sea. In grade school I drew wooden ships, learned the names of all the parts and labeled some of the drawings. I also made some detailed boat models completely from out of my head without any kits or drawings. I am now a designer, Woodworker and Sailor.

My memories are mostly visual and sometimes crystal clear. The detail descriptions come from having studied and read about the objects and the time and place that I see in the memories. Someone else may be able to see an equally clear vision but may not be able to describe what they see or give things from the past the correct name.

The memories come when I meditate. I get a strong emotional feeling when something new is revealed. I now trust that feeling to tell me when something is true and important.

A year and a half ago I drove to a construction site of a new church to take some measurements and meet with Bob the construction manager. During the meeting in the construction trailer Bob made a spelling mistake. He said “Sorry I’m dyslexic” I have heard people say that before but this time it sounded different. I responded with “Are you really dyslexic, I am dyslexic”. After talking about struggling through high school English classes he asked “Are you a Seer?” I told him a story about a clairvoyant experience I had and Bob told me that he could read the minds of the men working at the construction site.

The conversation turned to past lives and I started to tell him the shipwright story. He joined in on the telling of the story as if he was another crew member of the same ship. His part of the story was from a different perspective and less technical. He opened up my memory of some of the details that I describe, like the curved roof of the deck house. After that experience I started to believe that my memories of that past life and others were true.

My Mother passed in 2001. I have conversations with her in dreams. She is helping me discover all of this. She has helped me see that there is more than one life and one death. I now believe that Anna in the shipwright story is my Mother
 
Welcome Patrick

Those are some extremely detailed memories! Perhaps the name of the ship you repaired is recorded somewhere? Sometimes maritime records are carefully maintained.

Good luck with your search and do keep us posted.
 
Dying in the North Atlantic Again!

My memory of this life started with a death at sea (and a touch) with time other memories filled in some details. Don’t expect as much detail as the last life I described (Dying in the North Atlantic) that was an exception.

Two years ago, at a wedding, I touched a young woman that I didn’t know on the dance floor. A strong continuous emotional-electrical feeling passed both ways between us the entire time we danced. It was a feeling on another plane, beyond any sexual chemistry. I was unable to talk to her about it (we both returned to are spouses) but I knew there was a connection between us. It was similar to what I experienced when I reconnected with my wife in this lifetime. But it wasn’t love at first sight; I was already deeply attached to my wife. My present wife is my daughter Sara from the first story and my wife “Sara” from this story. I recently discovered that the woman I touched two years ago was my Fiancée “Case” before World War One

My name was “Billy” I was a wireless radio operator in the British Merchant Marine. I was engaged to “Case” (is that a name?) in Liverpool about 1910. I took a job at a relay shore station on an island just off the cost of Germany. While I was station there Sara discovered me and stole my heart away from Case. I brought Sara back to England and marred her.

When World War One started I was 28 and continued to work at shore stations. Because of my German wife my loyalties were under question by many of my friends and family. In an attempt to prove my loyalty I went to sea on a British merchant ship to aid the war effort.

I was asleep in a small cabin below deck with no windows. The cabin was painted steel on the inside. The door and bunk frames where painted medium brown. The bulkheads were painted white. I awoke with the sound of an explosion. Before I could get out of the bunk water was covering me. I floated to the top of the cabin and could not find a way out. That was the last thing I remember.

If I were to mentioned past lives to my wife she would check me into the loony bin. She dose not think that an intelligent person like her husband could believe in any thing spiritual. She lets me have a 32 foot sail boat on Lake Michigan. She uses the docked boat as a summer cottage but hates sailing. Three years ago I started planning a crossing of the Atlantic. She told me if a did cross the Atlantic our marriage would be over don’t bother to come back.
 
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