Quietly, I waited without a move. The next attack on the castle walls was imminent, but I didn’t know exactly when it would be. Locked and loaded, I aimed and was ready to fire.
Bouncing over the waves on the open sea near Grand Turk Island, the bow of the small powerboat caught one wave flush and dumped it on my head. This may not seem like the opening salvo of a happily memorable excursion, but it was.
Swimming along the wall, in the dark, the senses are focused, attuned to different things. The feel of the water seemed almost warmer. Colors seemed brighter. And somehow, way off in the distance, I heard something special.
Sometimes shrieks, sometimes croons, sometimes a sub-harmonic bass you could almost feel more than hear. There be whale song – the soul of the ocean.
I hang suspended, hovering, 30 feet high. Although the temperature is warm, in the 80s, the ground looks as if it’s covered in snow.