BlankConsidering that this sea was supposed to be only a day's sailing
along, the fact that we are still sailing is a little concerning, but at
least it has given me the chance to practice my seafaring skills. My uncle
wanted to know how deep this sea was and so Hans (as he seemed the best
qualified expert) determined which of our pickaxes was the heaviest and then
dropped it into the sea. Now, you may ask if Hans is suffering from a
version of cabin fever, but there is method in his madness. We attached a
very long rope to the end of it and simply counted how long it fell for.
Now, I'm no expert but as after an hour the pickaxe was still falling, we
decided that it must have been at least 200 fathoms deep (and perhaps even
more) so we started to haul it up. Three hours later (thanks in part to Hans
being so strong) we hauled it back on board and Hans noticed something odd
about it. Teeth marks. Which considering the state of our defences (i.e
none) was a most unsettling thing to realise before going to bed for the
night (I say night but only as the chronometer measures the term)
Received on Sun 17 Aug 2008 - 00:32:12 IDT