I’m endless and wide Mountains can’t hold me Maps can’t close me I rhyme with a pole that supports sails and rigging on a ship

Mu first three, a container most preservative. My last three, sounds like a contagious sleep signal. Put both together and in some places I am grand. A deep crevasse, a scar on the motherland.

An abandoned masterpiece, a woven tapestry, collecting dust in corners.

some may smoke it, and some may find it on the ocean floor what is it?

Peter’s tail in his eponymous tale or song.