Andrew was an Australian I met in Boracay. He lived in General Luna, Siargao Island main town, fronting the pacific Ocean. Andrew owned a paraw and he used to go sailing in the Siargao sea, among  unpolluted and enchanting islands: Dinagat, Dako, Anahwan, La Januza. “An obsession!” he claimed. His tales were so enthusiastic that Gino and I could nothing but leave Boracay, go to General Luna, rent a paraw, and go sailing togheter with Andrew. In a nut shell,  there is a special feeling when you realise that you are sailing the immense and powerful Pacific Ocean on board a paraw: such a tiny boat,  a sort of unravel threat! And really our last navigation was threatening. In the late afternoon we found ourselves a mile off La Januza; we decided to head back to General Luna, at a distance of around ten  nautical miles. The wind was dropping; we tacked upwind but I suddenly  realised that the rudder blade was off the hull: its precarious tin pintles had given up. Meanwhile the gentle and constant wind pushed us towards the open sea! No wonder that we felt lost and panicked: no water or food on board, no compass, nothing but a piece of rope to bind ourselves to the mast. In the sunset light we saw Andrew’s paraw sailing home fast, getting far, while on the opposite side the unreachable La Januza looked a mirage. But, hurra! Neptune and Eolus themselves woke up togheter to save us: after a 20 minutes long hopeless drifting, the wind changed and we finally managed to land in the dusk  in La Januza beach. The island people who had previously noticed our drifiting were waiting for us. Perhaps I spent my life dearest night inside a rented room on that remote little island. The next day as soon as we had the rudder repaired, we sailed back to General Luna where an amazed Andrew was waiting for us. What else can I say? For sure our short tour had not been  a cheap package holidays!

Illustration Friday topic is: obsession

A Malta holidays presents an opportunity to discover a country and a different culture only a short distance away from Sicily. The island strategic position, in between Europe and Africa, half way Gibraltar and the Middle East made it a perfect stronghold for the consecutive colonizers. The Phoenicians, the Romans, the Arabs, the Angevins, the Aragonese, the Knights of Saint John and the British were amongst them – all with just one goal: to control the middle of the Mediterranean. Traces of these cultures can still be found throughout the island: Phoenician tombs, The Roman Villa and several Roman and early Christian catacombs; The ancient city of Mdina with its Arab past (as does the place name itself). The capital city of Valletta is an open history book on the era of the Knights of St. John, when Malta was the southest  stronghold of European Christianity. This role seems to work even nowdays: Malta is on the route of the boats carrying migrants from Africa, but the Maltese government, just like the Italian one, does not shine in providing help and hospitality. Recently a leading Italian NGO has filed a report to the International Criminal Court  and the International Court of Justice in The Hague calling on them to investigate Malta’s ‘failures’ to adhere to international maritime rules with regards to search and rescue. While the Italian, Maltese and French governements debate on the grotesque topic, if the migrants status is that of political refugees or clandestines, at least 1000 Africans shipwrecked and drowned since January 2011, in the effort of  reaching our coastlines. Long live Fortress Europe!

The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;
The decks were like a slide, where a seamen scarce could stand;
The wind was a nor’wester, blowing squally off the sea;
And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.

They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day;
But ’twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.
We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout,
And we gave her the maintops’l, and stood by to go about.

All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;
All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;
All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,
For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.

Swimming in open sea is my favourite sport: yet it scares me a little. As soon as I jump into the water, some sort of split tongued spirit talks and says out of the vast sea: “maybe you could sink and die”. When the spirit talks louder my worries can’t be denied. But I never gave up. On the contrary I keep my eyes wide open, looking for some potential danger…
The waters out of Boracay’s beach are always damn crowded by fast boats cruising at any time of the day. It is a real hassle, since local pilots seem to care absolutely nothing of swimmers, nor to understand how fragile a floating man is. It’s hard for me to forget the time when a fast paraw nearly broke me down…The reckless driver simply couldn’t see me, I guess because of the dusk…

Illustration Friday’s topic is: worry

Lightnings are electrical discharges, giant sparks of electricity, from mature storms. Lightnings cause a lot of electric current to pass through water; wooden boats are not safe at all since the vast majority of lightning injuries and deaths occur on small boats with no cabin…
The short sea passage between Gili Trawangan and Gili Air found me on board a small local boat without a cabin. It is always crucial to listen to the weather on a small aquatic vessel: during that early afternoon at sea, the sky was threatening, thunderstorms were forecast and lightnings too…
When the first powerful strike came and the air filled with static electricity on a giant scale, the anxious boatman pumped up the engine, trying to get the boat fast, trying to get to land and find a safe shelter: actually it was raining and pouring! The storm went on for half an hour and our navigation turned out to be very uncomfortable…
When we got Gili Air’s sandy beach at last, everything was over: off course!

Illustration Friday’s topic is: elettricity

“Please, open your mouth again”-the Thai dentist whispered-” finish, finish already!”
He was working efficiently and silently on my rotten tooth since twenty minutes at least.
Thai dentists are notoriously skilful and inexpensive, and that was not my first time. I never had a problem with them, and thought that time too, it was going over quite good… But the devil beats his drum, so to say, and suddenly the power ran out: dark! The little black room found me with my mouth wide open and my yes wide shut. The whispering doctor lit a candle, and carelessly stated that he was going to finish the job by the fair candle light: “keep cool” he said, “no problem”.
A bit struck by terror, I too whispered: “ok”, but felt deep inside that something painful was going to happen to me…A few seconds later, some bloody instrument he was handling, touched my gum for a moment, just a flash indeed, painful enough for made me jumping and running away to the outer and welcoming sunny world…

Illustration Friday’s topic is: open

Disturbing visitors sometimes come with our dreams. We wake up then, asking ourselves their meaning . In Malaysia, Senoi have a theory of dreams, and dreams are important for those becoming “adepts” (healers). Ancient Senoi dream practices (dream sharing in morning groups and using techniques of dream control), are known as “Senoi dream theory.”
Mornings were used by families to indulge in the custom of dream-telling, where, for instance, a child’s fearful dream of falling was praised as a gift to learn to fly the next night.
Among the rules that the Senoi had was the following: “If there is danger in your dream, you should confront and conquer it.”
Anthropologist Kilton Stewart first visited Senoi in 1935 and in 1982 John Hassell, a trumpet player and composer relased the beautiful album “Dream Theory in Malaya” after reading a paper by Stewart.

Illustration Friday’s topic is: visitors

Many fish use camouflage to blend into their surroundings. Camouflage has two purposes: it helps fish avoid being eaten and allows them to make sneak …among them stonefish are found in the tropical waters of the Pacific and Indian oceans. Averaging about 30 centimeters in length, their subdued colors and lumpy shape provide them with exceptional camouflage. Few fish can match the sinister reputation of the stone fish: when stepped on, the fins in the dorsal spine inflict an extremely painful and sometimes fatal wound. The stonefish is a master of disguise and deception, it looks like a piece of coral or sand covered rock, so alas, never put your bare hands upon rocks while diving tropical seas: it turns out to be really dangerous sometimes!

Illustration Friday‘s topic is: camouflage

About IF’s rejection, here are three works I like: cate anevsky ; gee,that’s swell ; zari_ZHM

Maybe I should put forward for this week’s topic my whole blog! Actually every Aynaku’s post relates to memory so I consider that my most recent submission should make no exception, and be one of Aynaku’s most typical. My very first time on board a sailing boat is firmly fixed in my mind: I was nine years old and the calling of wind and sea was already precise. I remember my excitement when the crew set sail and the boat left. It all happened under my parent’s benevolent and worried eyes. Waving their hands from the dock, they valued the possibility of an accidental jump into the water: still I couldn’t swim that well!
The second memory related to this illo, is my great fascination for Japanese ukiyo-e , a fascination dating back to my  1993 Japan trip. Really some memories can’t wait!

Illustration Friday’s topic is: remember

I always like stormy weather and perhaps I am a hopeless romantic. A few days after I got the island of Boracay, were I was about to spend such a long time,  I went to the local disco, a place called Bazura, in a low-season windy night, to have a beer or two and a little dancing. I was so excited: dancing barefoot under the stormy black sky really pulled me up! I kept on dancing, gazing at the wild swinging of the coconut trees and making friends with local beauties. Late at night the wind had increased surprisingly hard and it seemed right to quit the place and gett home before the coming storm would make it impossible. With my empty bottle of beer in hand -a souvenir almost- and my mind full of happy nonsense, I recklessly started moving. All I had to do was to follow the palm fringed pathway at whose dark end my little bungalow was. But the hard confounding wind, blowing against my nose and my dizzy thoughts, let me do just a few quick steps in the dark before crashing painfully against the trunk of an apparently invisible coconut tree. Gosh! I felt clearly the crack of my eye-glasses lens breaking, closed my eyes instinctively and so avoided some more serious trouble. What a night…

Illustration Friday’s topic is: crash

Six weird things about me

Thanks Lu and Pati for tagging me. The ones who know me say I run an uncommon life; I fear it is my DNA. Anyways here are six hints:
1. I do not orientate myself that much, both with situations or surroundings. I might get lost even in my
hometown.
2. I like very dim lights and would push back into the shadows the things that come forward too clearly.
3. I always feel embarrassed by wearing a brand new, polished pair of shoes: they are so inelegant to me…
4. I always remember plainly the dream I dreamt the night before, and every night I have a dream.
5. Please don’t ask me to drive a car unless absolutely needed! (But I’m a good driver then.)
6. I never owned a guidebook.