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Worlds Apart , Cruising Sailing

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Worlds Apart

It's like landing on another planet - Suspended in crystal fluid, enchanted. Magic wands wave in a watery breeze, Currents tugging in a gentle tease. A fantastic shape glides regally by, Green-tinted light, easy to see by. In latest fashion has nature dressed her, Her world I share, My living ancestor.

Lynn stared at her image in the mirror. A frank appraisal would include the words 'slightly overweight' and 'pale'. Her job as a lawyer in a large corporation did nothing for her need for exercise and fostered an attitude that getting ahead in life equated with working straight through her vacation.

This time, she vowed to get as far from the work place as possible, both in distance and in ambiance. The vacation experience that most titillated her sense of adventure was a flight to Australia and an ocean cruise to the Barrier Reefs of New Zealland. A winter vacation was dictated by the company, but warm breezes was her kind of weather.

After depositing her pager and cell phone in the top drawer of her dresser, slamming it shut with a certain amount of satisfaction. Being an amateur photographer, Lynn looked forward to capturing exotic fish in their natural habitat and enlarging them for her wall. Too excited to sleep, she buried herself in a book on New Zealand fauna until sleep finally came.

Emerging from the busy airport in Sydney, Lynn turned her face to a warm and brilliant sun. Twenty four hours ago, cold, damp air threatened snow back in the wintry United States and she relished the contrast. The tour bus barreled through the city streets, using its bulk to bully the smaller cars. She planned on showering and looked forward to an interesting meal at the hotel before spending her first night in Australia. Tomorrow, a fast tour of the city would set the stage for her two week cruise up the coast. The highlight of the cruise would be her first glimpse of New Zealand and shallow diving in the reef waters.

The next day, dawn crept over the Pacific as Lynn gazed toward the cloud topped lava cliffs, home to thousands of sea birds. The surrounding countryside was the antithesis of the land where Lynn grew up. Hints of steamy jungle lie behind secret coves of white beaches. Lynn prepared for the imminent soj

ourn into the depths of a reef. What fantastic shapes would she see? Her books told of fairyborn creatures trailing angel wings of hidden stings, pulsing through the warm water, feeding on amoebae much like themselves, only smaller. If she were lucky, a river dolphin native to these waters might wander close enough for a picture or two. Dolphins always fascinated Lynn with their enlarged brain cases and intelligent ways. They seemed to be part of a culture known only to themselves.

a sea fog now veiled the sun from striking the beach. The white sand with its background of carved gullies appeared oyster white on granite gray. Dove shaped terns wheeled along the cliffs, protecting their eggs with piercing cries. Behind her drifted the sounds of the Jelly Roll Blues being tinkled out by an early riser. A glance at her diving watch warned her of the long awaited dive, urging her to reluctantly end her daydreaming and get prepared for her dive.

Loud sounds of water slapping the sides of the boat mingled with shouted orders from the crew suddenly ceased as Lynn dropped like a stone into the mystic water. the enveloping quiet was interrupted only by the murmuring of the air escaping the breathing apparatus. Filtered green light passed over a school of fish, rippling their multihued sides. A sea horse drifted by, suspended vertically in the glass like water, cilia vibrating to an unseen aria. Suddenly aware of her watcher and frightened by the flash of her camera, the creature straightened its curved spine and doubled its speed in a horizontal mode.

Thirty minutes later, her digital camera nearly filled, Lynn dripped on the deck, shedding various equipment like a horseshoe crab. The two weeks were too soon gone, relegated to that unchangeable past time, to exist only in the pages of her albums. Lynn refused to dwell on the coming days of work chores, preferring to extract every pleasurable second of her fantasy voyage.


Retired portrait photographer. Comments needed.


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