It becomes so hypnotising, that I’ve just had to dive overboard into 15,000 feet of ultramarine indigo and let my boat sail on without me with no one on board.
Mind you, I had a long line trailing…….
I felt I was “the first that ever burst into that silent sea”.
Beyond Buyat Bay, North Sulawesi, Indonesia. Photograph by Eric Ness
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part 1 http://www.jennifermarohasy.com/blog/archives/000797.html
part 2 http://www.jennifermarohasy.com/blog/archives/003015.html
part 3 http://www.jennifermarohasy.com/blog/archives/003044.html
part 4 http://www.jennifermarohasy.com/blog/archives/003104.html
part 5 http://www.jennifermarohasy.com/blog/archives/003112.html
part 6 http://www.jennifermarohasy.com/blog/archives/003120.html
part 7 http://www.jennifermarohasy.com/blog/archives/003124.html
part 8 http://www.jennifermarohasy.com/blog/archives/003127.html
wes george says
So, Drongo
I would have tied the trailing line to my ankle so tight the foot would have fallen off after an hour or so. You didn’t really just let the line drag behind the boat did you?
That’s the definitive cutting loose in wilderness. Survival is optional.
OT, I’m not only envious your aqueous space walk, but being an apprentice to an indigenous rain maker is pretty bleeding far out too.
spangled drongo says
Wes, sorry so long getting back.
Fortunately I only got hypnotised when the weather was almost glassy so the boat was only doing about 1 knot.
Although once I did it about 60 miles to leeward of the big volcano in Hawaii [Mauna Loa], checked the knot meter, 1 knot, dived over, breeze freshened and the boat accelerated.
I reckon I would have passed Ian Thorpe that day.
WRT the rainmaker, I also had to write letters to the rainmakers of the surrounding tribes around Innaminka-Birdsville so that all efforts were co-ordinated on the same nights.
You can imagine the celebrations if it worked, which it very occasionally did.
War paint and cock rags all round.
What the world needs now, eh?
Rainmakers, that is.