“In Malory and elsewhere there are numerous references to the Ship of Solomon, the mysterious vessel that carries the quest knights or even the Grail itself to and from the everyday world into the timeless, dimensionless place of the sacred. However, it does more than this, being in some ways not unlike a kind of mystical time machine, programmed to bear the message of the Grail through the ages, from the time of Solomon to the time of Arthur. It was built not by Solomon himself but by his wife, who is called Sibyl in the medieval Christian myth book known as The Golden Legend and may be identified with Bilquis, the Queen of Sheba.138 She, according to another Grail tradition, gave a vessel of gold to Solomon as a wedding gift—a cup that later became enshrined and supposedly resides to this day in the cathedral of Valencia as a type of Grail.”

• Arthurian Magic, John Matthews, Virginia Chandler

“According to the story related in La Queste del Saint Graal, certain objects were placed within the ship, which was then set adrift, unmanned, to sail through time as well as space to the era of the Grail Quest. These objects were Solomon’s Crown; the sword of King David; a great bed supposedly made from the Rood Tree; and three branches from the Edenic Tree of Knowledge, one of red, one of white, and one of green, which were arranged to form a triangle above the bed from which a canopy could be suspended. We should not be surprised to find images of paradise contained in the Solomonic ship, for the vessel is clearly an image of the temple, this time afloat on the sea of time, its destination the country of the Grail. But perhaps the most important detail is that it contains wood from the tree that supposedly grew from a branch taken out of Eden by Adam and Eve and planted in the earth. From this tree, it was widely believed in the Middle Ages, the cross of the crucifixion was constructed, and part of it was used to make the Ark of the Covenant. ”

• Arthurian Magic, John Matthews, Virginia Chandler

"In Kabbalistic teaching, the ship or boat is often regarded as a symbol for the soul. The soul is the vehicle that "sails the waters of the inner seas" navigating through the complex and sometimes chaotic realm of our subtle, psychological world. There the shallow and deep waters flow in different currents, streaming in several directions, following the deep instincts and impulses of the psyche. When the human soul is absent, the boat has no captain and the vessel is delivered unto the random currents of the inner seas and oceans. Check your vessel and make sure there is a captain and navigator at the helm of your ship.”

• Mike Bais

THE LEGEND OF SOLOMON'S SHIP

In the days when Eve plucked the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden, a small branch adhering to the fruit came away in her hand. When she gave the fruit to Adam, the branch remained in her grasp, and she held onto it unknowingly even as the Lord God expelled them both from Paradise.

Only when they stood outside the gates did Eve notice the branch still clasped in her hand. Though they had been cast out, the branch retained its vibrant green color, as though it still drew life from Paradise itself. Eve looked upon it and said, "I shall plant this in remembrance of all that we have lost through our disobedience."

By the Lord's will, the branch quickly took root and grew into a tree. This tree was significant, for it was a reminder that the inheritance of mankind had not been lost eternally. And because it was Eve, not Adam, who had removed and planted the twig, it betokened how life, though lost through a woman, would also be regained through a woman—namely, the Virgin Mary who was to come.

As the tree grew tall and strong, it was all white in color, signifying the virginal state of Eve when she had planted it.

One day Adam and Eve sat weeping with sadness beneath the tree. Eve remarked, "It is no surprise that we are sorrowful, for we sit beneath the tree of death." But just then a voice from heaven comforted them, saying, "This tree has more of life in it than of death."

Heartened by these words, Adam and Eve planted many slips taken from that tree, and each one flourished, retaining the parent tree's white color.

Not long after, as they sat again beneath the white tree, God commanded Adam and Eve to unite as man and wife. That very night they conceived their son Abel. When this union occurred and Abel was conceived, the tree was transformed—it turned entirely green and bore flowers and fruit. All slips planted from it thereafter were green in color, for they carried the sign of life renewed.

Years passed, and Cain slew his brother Abel beneath this very same tree. God cursed the earth because of the first murder, though He did not curse the tree of life and its offspring. Yet the tree's color was again miraculously transformed—this time into red, in remembrance of Abel's innocent blood that had been spilled beneath its branches.

From that day forward, all slips taken from the tree withered and died, though the original tree continued to flourish. It was revered by all the descendants of Adam and Eve as a holy thing. Neither it nor the descendants that had taken root before Abel's death deteriorated in any way, even after the great flood that cleansed the earth.

The three trees—white, green, and red—continued to grow and flourish even unto the time of King Solomon. From this holy wood would later be fashioned the Cross of the Crucifixion, and part of it was used to construct the Ark of the Covenant. Thus the Tree of Knowledge, which had brought death into the world, would become the instrument of life restored.

One day King Solomon sat lamenting the cunning and faithless nature of his wife. As he brooded upon this, the Holy Spirit came to comfort him and revealed a great mystery: in ages to come, a Virgin would bear a child who would be descended from Solomon's own royal lineage. This child would be the salvation of all mankind.

Solomon was filled with wonder and awe at this revelation. But then he fell into anguish, asking himself, "How can I convey to future generations that I have been given foreknowledge of this blessed event? How will they know that I knew of the coming of the Chosen One?"

It was then that his queen came to him—she who was called Sibyl, she who had come from the land of Sheba to test Solomon's wisdom, she who was known as Bilquis in distant lands. This same queen had once given Solomon a vessel of gold as a wedding gift, a cup that would become enshrined in later ages and venerated as a sacred thing.

The Queen said to Solomon, "My lord, if you wish to send a message across the ages, you must build a ship—not merely of wood and nail, but a vessel that shall sail through time itself as well as upon the waters. Fashion it so cunningly that it will endure until the end of days, bearing witness to your prophetic knowledge."

Solomon was pleased with this counsel and marveled at his wife's wisdom. He commanded his finest carpenters to build a ship of the strongest and most lasting timber they could find. They labored with great skill and fashioned a vessel that would withstand not only the ravages of storm and sea, but the very passage of centuries.

The ship that was built was no ordinary vessel, for it was fashioned as an image of the Temple itself—Solomon's great Temple that housed the Ark of the Covenant and the presence of the Lord. But where the Temple stood firm upon Mount Moriah, this temple would float upon the sea of time, its destination the country of the Grail in an age yet to come.

When the ship was complete, it was the Queen herself, in her wisdom, who adorned it. At its center she placed a magnificent bed, made from the very wood of the Rood Tree—that same wood descended from the branch Eve had brought from Paradise. At the head of the bed she set Solomon's own crown, signifying the royal lineage that would continue through the ages unto the Chosen One. At the foot she placed the sword of King David, Solomon's father, as a token of the kingship that would endure.

But when the Queen looked upon the bed, she saw that it still lacked something. She turned to the carpenters and commanded them: "Go to the three trees that have grown from the branch Eve brought out of Paradise. Cut three beams—one from the red tree, one from the white tree, and one from the green tree."

The carpenters went forth and found the ancient trees. When they cut into the red tree, it bled as though it were living flesh, for it remembered the blood of Abel. They took one beam of red wood, one of white, and one of green, and brought them to the Queen.

She ordered that the red beam and the white beam be affixed vertically, one on either side of the bed, standing as posts. The green beam was mounted horizontally across the top, joining the other two together, so that the three formed a triangle above the bed. From this triangular frame, a canopy could be suspended.

Thus the three colors were united in one structure—white for virginity and purity, green for life and hope, and red for sacrifice and redemption. Here, within the ship, was an image of Paradise itself, of the Garden from which humanity had fallen and to which it would one day return.

That night, as Solomon slept, he witnessed a vision. A strange and glorious man descended from heaven to the ship, accompanied by a throng of angels. This being took up a tool and inscribed upon the ship a message in letters of fire, telling the story of all that it contained and the purpose for which it had been made.

Solomon awoke and went in wonder to behold what had been written. As he approached the vessel, the ship suddenly slid into the water of its own accord. Though no hand guided it and no sail was set, it began to move across the sea as if propelled by divine will alone.

A voice spoke from heaven, saying: "Solomon, king and prophet, fear not. This ship shall sail unmanned through all the ages of the world, through time as well as space, until it comes to the last knight of your lineage. He shall lie upon this bed and receive tidings of you. He shall know that you knew of the coming of the Savior, and he shall complete the quest that has been ordained since the foundation of the world."

And so the ship sailed away into the mists—a mystical vessel programmed, as it were, to bear the message of the Grail through the centuries, from the time of Solomon to the time of Arthur. It carried within it Solomon's Crown, David's Sword, the great bed made from the Rood Tree, and the three branches from the Edenic Tree of Knowledge, arranged in a triangle of red, white, and green. All were set adrift to sail not merely across the waters but across the very ocean of time itself, waiting through all the ages for the ones who would be worthy to find it.

Long ages passed. Kingdoms rose and fell. Empires turned to dust. The Temple of Solomon was destroyed and rebuilt and destroyed again. Yet still the ship sailed on, unseen by mortal eyes, preserved by divine providence, moving through dimensions known only to God.

In the days of King Arthur, when the quest for the Holy Grail had been undertaken by the knights of the Round Table, three knights achieved such purity and worthiness that they were granted visions beyond those of other men. These were Sir Galahad, the sinless knight and last of Solomon's lineage; Sir Percival, the pure fool who had learned wisdom; and Sir Bors, the steadfast one who would return to tell the tale.

As they journeyed together in their search for the Grail, they came one day to the shore of a vast sea. There, resting upon the waters as though it had been waiting for them alone, was a ship of ancient and wondrous craftsmanship. Though more than two thousand years had passed since its making, it showed no sign of age or decay.

The three knights boarded the vessel with reverence and awe. Within it they found the great bed, just as Solomon's Queen had adorned it. At its head lay Solomon's crown, still gleaming with royal authority. At its foot rested David's sword, its blade still sharp and true. The bed was framed by three beams of wood arranged in a triangle—one red as blood, one white as snow, one green as spring leaves—and from this frame hung a canopy of rich fabric.

Upon the ship they found writing that told them the whole story: how Eve had brought the branch from Eden, how the three trees had grown and changed color, how Solomon had received the vision of the coming Messiah, how his Queen had counseled the building of the ship, and how it had been set adrift to sail through time until this very moment.

The knights understood then that this ship had been prepared for them since ancient times, that they were the fulfillment of the prophecy spoken to Solomon, that Galahad himself was the last knight of Solomon's lineage for whom all this had been ordained.

And so Galahad lay upon the bed beneath the canopy formed by the three branches of Paradise, and every time he lay down or rose up, he prayed to Our Lord that whensoever He should require of him his translation from this world, He would send for him. For Galahad desired nothing more than to complete his quest and then be taken up to heaven, having fulfilled all that had been purposed for him.

In this ship—guided by divine will rather than sail or oar, a temple floating upon the waters, carrying within it images of Paradise and tokens of kingship—the three knights were borne across the sea. The vessel sailed through realms both physical and spiritual, moving through the everyday world into the timeless, dimensionless place of the sacred.

At last they came to the holy city of Sarras, a place that existed both in the world and beyond it. There the Grail itself awaited them, shining with the light of heaven. There Galahad, lying upon the bed that had been made for him before time began, achieved the ultimate vision. He saw the mysteries that are hidden from mortal eyes. He drank from the Grail and was filled with the presence of God.

And when he had seen all that a mortal man may see and still live, Galahad's prayer was answered. His translation from this world was granted. Angels descended and bore his soul to heaven, where it was reunited with the Divine Source from which all souls proceed.

Thus was Solomon's ship of faith—built by the wisdom of the Queen, fashioned from the wood of Paradise, adorned with crown and sword, bearing the bed of the Rood Tree beneath a canopy of three sacred colors—brought at last to its destined purpose. It proved that God's plan unfolds across all ages, that prophecy given in one era finds fulfillment in another, and that what was lost in Eden is restored through the lineage of the faithful who seek the Grail.

The ship had carried its message through more than two thousand years, sailing through time as well as space, preserving the wood that Eve brought from the Garden, the crown of Solomon, the sword of David, until it found the one for whom all had been prepared—Galahad, the pure knight, the last of Solomon's line, the achiever of the Grail, the one who completed the quest that began when our first parents left Paradise.