Guestbook 

 


Across the Indian Ocean by sail, January to June, 2007
14 images, last modified 21 Feb '08, 08:51

<br> <br>The infant born, bruised and red <br>knows at once the world's rough hand <br> <br>the wind in heaven, to purify  <br>the skin of sin it cuts like sand <br> <br>the raging sanctuary of the sea <br>teaches both the fear of land <br> <br>and the longing for,  just like the touch  <br>of the one for whom you've waited. Everyone was long asleep, and I was late into my shift, steering the ship east. We were 2 weeks out from Tanzania, heading to the Seychelles. The night was very clear. Compared to the normal infinite jeweled darkness of the night sky at sea, the full moon was as bright as a white sun, so bright that I was reading by it. The Odyssey, I think. Every wave was capped in light as far as I could see. Imagine my emotion when suddenly they all turned red. <br> <br> In shock I looked up into the sky and saw a blood red moon. We had been at sea for 2 weeks, without a radio, so I hadn't heard anything about an eclipse. In fact, for a very long moment as the sea turned red, I didn't understand what was happening. As a primal man I experienced this reversal of the expected: with complete wonder, and with fear. It was a profound moment.
 



WELCOME    PHOTOGRAPHY    CONNECT    WORDS    SONGS    JOURNEY

All Content © Gregory Primo Gottman 2010 | Photographer's Direct | OS X Widget