Urn of magic potion

I fell in an urn of magic potion. About my locus, I had no notion. I found myself on a wide, whirly sea. My boat had holes. From fall, I couldn't flee. From shores I seemed to have gone far away. Sea snakes, cone snails, sea urchins, and stingray… From these wild creatures, how could I escape? Perplexed, could I nestle and merely gape? I had spent my life seeking for meaning. Towards salvation has been my leaning. I am moving towards life in my sail. I feel, in my adventure, I won't fail.