Tuesday, November 17, 2009
A marine biologist journeyed to the Cook Islands. At sea, he and his crew detected something large moving on sonar. 1,100 meters depth, moving at 11 knots. Suddenly, down to 1,700 meters, speed at 16 knots, moving south-southwest, disappearing, out of range. They look at each other: what the hell was that? Several hours waiting for a return, but nothing. At dinner that night they needed more wine. Free flow the syrah. That night he feel asleep not thinking gas pockets, new submarine technology, school of fish but rather unknown, prehistoric, biblical.
Posted by Christian Bell at 8:00 AM
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I love this. Your economy of style has always been impressive, but the mystery in this one fascinates me.
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