From a shipwreck, nothing may remain. It seems even more plausible that it be so, or that very little survives the catastrophe. Perhaps what remains is only splinters of wood, shreds of fabric, or some random object that luck and currents bring within the reach of the wretch thrown into the sea. But whatever wreckage falls into their hands, it becomes immensely valuable. First, because if the thing did not sink, it is probably something light, buoyant. It then becomes a lifesaver. Second, because the castaway will need useful tools if they survive the accident and find solid ground beneath their feet again.
 
It is natural that, in an adventure of this kind, one ends up landing in unknown, perhaps desolate and dangerous lands. The artifact now in their possession becomes the last remnant of the known world. It is a result of the knowledge that their original culture was able to create and, thus, an identifying symbol that empowers the castaway to fulfill their destiny, keeping alive the memory that there is a place to return to. Now, advancing through unfamiliar territory, the explorer can wield this protective aegis.  It is also possible to modify it, as Athena did by covering the paternal shield with new leather and imbuing it with even more astonishing powers. (Ovídio, 2017) Thus, new elements found along the way can join the small booty, either providing the castaway with new tools or amalgamating everything into a hybrid device.
 
Faced with such misfortune, whether the traveler must stay true to the initial purpose of the undertaking or, in the face of harsh reality, recalculate the route to at least return home alive, is up to them to decide. But is there a real chance of achieving what they coveted? Sinbad, nicknamed "the Sailor," had seven voyages, all filled with misfortunes: storms, attacks by sea creatures, thefts, betrayals, misfortunes... almost always involving shipwrecks. Nevertheless, each time Sinbad returned to Baghdad after a new maritime disaster, his fortune increased, along with his recognition as a great navigator. (Galland, 2017) One must ponder well on this curious case of a sailor whose fame survives the centuries despite never having managed to make a safe journey. Could shipwrecking not have been his disgrace but his great fortune?
 
We, who have barely loosened the ties between the boat and the dock and still have the port within sight, do not know the extent of the storm that awaits us. It may not be as terrifying as the myths tell, perhaps because they are moralizing and serve the purpose of keeping us cautious. But if the winds are too strong and the waves larger than those we can navigate, there will be a story to tell. If the narration of this journey causes revulsion, compassion, admiration, or fear in the listeners, we have the consolation of knowing that tragedy is, at least for Aristotle, superior to comedy. (Aristóteles, 2003)
The mythological foundation present in tragic drama and epic poetry has accompanied us since ancient times, and it will not be now that it will extinguish from the ways we construct our imagination. (Vogler, 2003)  However, the watery substrate of seas and floods can be replaced by something of different density, perhaps like plasma or the vacuum of space. The odysseys of Dave Bowman (Kubrick, 1968) and Major Tom (Bowie, 1969) may already be considered old in a world marked by the exponential acceleration of technologies and their obsolescence. The fact is that something from 1960s science fiction is now coming into effect, albeit with some delay. It was not in 2001 that we could create an artificial intelligence villain dangerous and frightening enough. But 2023 has arrived, rousing from lethargy the fear that was only waiting for the right moment to awaken.
 
I embark on this adventure accompanied, not by the fictional and crafty HAL 9000, but by a crew composed of real and operational automatons, namely, ChatGPT, Bard, AlphaCode, Github Copilot, ERNIE 4.0. Others may join the squadron along the way. I take the risk of approaching certain companions of questionable character, but I never expected loyalty from them. The codes involved here are not those of morality, but the lines of programming. If this puts me at imminent risk of sabotage or even mutiny, I depart aware of the inevitable accidents and the potential catastrophic outcome for the journey.
 
If a shipwreck occurs and everything crumbles, I may find myself holding only a black and impenetrable box. This is of no use to me. It is in the immaterial component of this apparatus that what matters lies (Flusser, 2006), and it is in the machine's openness to the indeterminacy of the external world that its role is fulfilled (Simondon, 2018) Therefore, it is not enough to save the hardware from disappearing into the depths of the sea or the vastness of the skies. Its "vital" functions must be in order, and its intelligence, even if artificial, must remain clear-headed.
the great sailor who always sinks
now submerged in electromagnetic waves
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