An ocean morning
Its 4:30, the morning is just starting to evolve. It’s dead quiet on the ocean as the Adventurer slowly rocks in the swell. I have a reoccurring nervous feeling as I get ready to board my Kayak, a feeling that hits me every morning as I begin the day. The crew release the ropes that hold me, as if my umbilical cord has been cut an I am now left to fend for myself into a life that is so new and strange to me.
In the morning light, the ocean looks like a huge cauldron of bubbling molten black rubber, as I dip my paddle into it and slowly extract it tentacles of this goo slowly run off and are swallowed up as the scar closes. Slowly I carve my way through the dark early ominous mass of heaving groaning ocean slowly awakening around me. I am now at a point that it is 3400m deep. Below me are mountain ranges that I am just skimming over, what actually lurks below in these chasms of the ocean.
The sun slowly manages to claw its way up and over the horizon casting its bright occur ribbon over the writhing mass of water, slowly the ripples pick up the suns reflection and the dark black starts to transform into liquid mercury with millions of little molecules sparkling and reflecting in the sunlight, like of pieces of glass that just seem to all rise up out of the depth in one motion as they tumble and reflect the energy being created by the sun.
Another day at sea is born.