My 1986 UFO Dream Gave Me Crash Coordinates. 31 Years Later, I Went to Greenland to reconnect.
A few weeks after my sighting and the journal headlines I had a strange dream. The memory of it has never felt like my own. It feels borrowed, imprinted on my mind one night in 1986. It began not as a dream, but as a violent awakening into another place.
I found myself on the bridge of a ship not of human design.
Around me, a frantic crew moved with a desperate, failing grace. The air was thick with a cacophony of shrieks that I understood not with my ears, but with my soul: they were terrified. Through a viewport, I saw a sea of ice churning below, rushing toward us. In the chaos, my eyes locked onto a single point of clarity: a digital display, flickering with a sequence of numbers.
They were the last thing I saw before a final, violent lurch plunged everything into darkness.
I awoke with a gasp in my own bed, the digits seared into my memory. Before they could fade, I scrawled them onto a notepad. For two days, they stared back at me, a meaningless string of numbers. But a thought began to form in my mind. The numbers weren’t random. They were a location.
Discovering Disko Island: From Dream to Destination
At the public library, an old atlas confirmed my suspicion. My fingers traced the lines to a desolate patch of icy water off the coast of Greenland, near a place called Disko Island.
“Disko Island,” I thought, a smile touching my lips. “A bit on the nose, isn’t it?” The idea that my dream was some kind of psychic mayday from a crashed UFO seemed utterly ridiculous, but the chain of events was too compelling to ignore. I hadn’t “known” that the coordinates pointed to a location in the Arctic Circle. Despite this, what I had seen from the alien bridge were Arctic waters. This made sense.
In the following days I filed the experience away, a fascinating but seemingly unsolvable mystery.
For thirty-one years, that knowledge festered. A splinter in my mind. What really happened that night? Was it a warning? A memory? An echo of a tragedy that bled through space and time into my sleep?
Turning Curiosity into Action: The Journey to Greenland
In 2017, I finally had the opportunity to know. After a redundancy I was given a severance cheque. I used part of it to travel to Greenland, to the edge of the world, to confront the ghost that had haunted me for decades. My search started from a distance, poring over satellite images, hunting for any anomaly, any scar on the seabed that could betray a secret. The best I could do however, was to scour the coastline of Disko Island.
But the sea holds its secrets close. The true coordinates, the point of impact from my dream, are out in the crushing deep. A place where oceanographic data is a modern myth and the icy darkness swallows all light. It’s down there, a place I can point to on a map but can never reach by myself.
I discovered a ship along the coastline of Disko Island, but it wasn’t the vessel I had hoped to find. Instead, I uncovered an even deeper mystery. I journeyed to Greenland for answers, yet only encountered a cold, silent confirmation that something waits in the abyss. My experience taught me that we shouldn’t fear the unknown, but embrace it with hope and curiosity.
And it knows I have its address.
Some may now say that this is the Holy Grail.
I have waited 39 years to talk about this.
Are you ready?