An old fantasy

Many years ago, in the mid eighties, a friend of mine approached me with an earlier version of this drawing, and he invited me to come to the U.S. with him and a group of people who have been sworn to secrecy.
For many reasons, the raft was never built and the small band of friends involved in the conspiracy managed to leave Cuba by safer methods. At that time we had only two options, either we made it to the States or we died in the sea, we were very fortunate, because we didn't have the menace of the dry-foot wet-foot policy over us. Those were pre Clinton days.
One day, years ago, I received this new version of the drawing, and I have treasured it ever since.
The author of the drawing died in exile, a free man.
His family lives still in Cuba. And he lives in them.