a new sport: deep-sea holding on to a flimsy raft. no, the point was to observe the shadows of slippery sea lions and maybe catch a glimpse of one. but we were out to see in full wetsuits holding onto the small handles of a small, black, long and thin rubbery ovular raft. we were being knocked about like crazy. it was rather dangerous, but i was in the company of enthusiasts who didn't seem to mind. we got out, stopped at a gas station to pee and re-fuel (me with a huge peanut-butter cup bar), and went back for one more go.
interpretations of water vary but seems to be that it reflects the emotional state. in this case, a bit rough and wild and frightening. we were at the mercy of the waves, but the people i was with knew this and took it in stride, their passion for discovery taking hold of their motivations.
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