Namibia

Sailing along the Skeleton Coast of Namibia!

The Delos Diaries: Part 12 “It’s A New Day.”

The sun is beaming down on me on Delos as I sit with Alex and Brady on the back. I’m feeling very much at peace today, and relieved.

It’s a new day.

“Here you go, mate,” Brady says, clicking another button on his laptop. “There’s some good meditation on your phone now.”

I take my phone gratefully and nod. “Thanks buddy.” I glanced at the paddle board strapped to the side of Delos and tilted my head in thought.

Maybe today is a good day to learn…

I feel like I’ve turned a corner. And it took hitting rock bottom to get to where I am.

But maybe I should explain where this anxiety came from in the first place.

My nightmares had been getting worse. It was making me anxious about sleeping and I was exhausted in the day.

If you were to ask me why I was anxious, I would say that I have no reason.

But maybe it is the aftereffects of the recent things that have happened. Maybe everything had been catching up on me.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

When I came on this journey, there was always the chance that I wasn’t going to be able to join the crew. I came to Cape Town to spend time with the Delos peeps, waiting for them to talk about whether I could come aboard or not.

They went to France for a week and I stayed in a hostel, waiting, hoping, my anxiety growing, my self belief diminishing. I tried to distract myself with some intense partying with some new friends and some amazing nights out in Long Street. It worked for a time. I was to return to Delos when Brady, Karin and Brian came back and would continue to stay there when the next two crew members arrived. One had won a competition and the other was a film maker who was going to help edit and shoot.

I felt like there was no reason really why they should invite me.

I felt like if they did, then it would be out of guilt for getting me to fly over in the first place. It didn’t occur to me that they may want me to come because they actually liked me. For some reason the worst feeling about myself came to the forefront.

So this grew and grew until the day they returned from France.

“So, we’ve talked and we would like you to come to Namibia with us,” Brady said, “But I don’t think we can take you further, mate…”

I nodded, not knowing how I felt. Worried? Relieved? Hopeful? The relief hit me but still I hoped for the opportunity to come to Brazil. Maybe I was selfish. I don’t know. But Mr Brady and I had spoken about it previously, so I couldn’t help but hope. I knew Alex was going all of the way and I desperately wanted to join as well. But I was beginning to feel like a burden and I couldn’t snap out of it.

Time went on and the rest of the crew joined. They had a rightful place to be here. I spent my time trying to be as helpful as possible. I needed to earn my place. I needed to help. But at night time I couldn’t help but retreat to the docks and sadly smoke a cigarette, unable to stop my train of thoughts.

Brady called me into his room one day to talk about Brazil.

“I just wanted to let you know that Lisa is coming Brazil now as well,” he said, sitting cross legged across from me.

I nodded, waiting.

“We need to see how you sail, but there may be a chance you can come too. But there’s six people on this boat now, Elizabeth. So you need to know if it feels too crammed, you’ll be the first to go.”

My stomach twisted in dread, my heart starting to beat erratically.

You’ll be the first to go…

“So there is a chance, but we need to see how you sail. And how we all get along.” He paused. “But I know you’re going to worry about this. I know it’s going to be on your mind. So is it better just to say and plan for you to get off in Namibia?”

I took a breath, telling myself to wait a few seconds before I spoke. “Mate, if that is the cost of having a chance to go to Brazil, then that’s the cost I will pay. If you plan for something, it will happen. I don’t want to plan for Namibia when it’s not where I want to get off. I understand about everything. I do. And I’ll try my best. To be honest- yes, of course I want to go to Brazil. Who wouldn’t? But you do what you’ve got to do.”

“Well, take it that the end is Namibia, ok? But we’ll see how you go.”

I nodded again. I gave him a hug and retreated, trusting in the universe.

I had to go to Brazil.

I had to go to Brazil.

So I decided that I wouldn’t worry. I would be good and trust in the world.

I showered the next day, thinking over and over how little space I could take up. Mr Brady and I shared a room. I decided that I would give him as much space as possible. I would make tea for everyone. I would leave the table if it became too crowded. I would live harmoniously. I wouldn’t bicker. I would take whatever anyone threw at me.

You’ll be the first to go…

I had to go to Brazil.

I would be positive and happy and-

The next day, my friend died.

Things didn’t make sense and everything I had been feeling got dragged back up to the surface. I could not stop crying. Days would pass of me throwing myself into my work, determined not to affect anyone, determined to not take up too much room, too much space. I just wanted to work, contribute the best parts of me and retreat if things felt too crowded.

But now my friend’s death had brought up such raw emotions I didn’t know how to deal with them. I lay in my bunk, the curtain drawn and sobbed into my pillow. I would walk down to the docks and spill my tears into the water. At night I would sit at the back of the boat and let it all out. Because I didn’t want anyone to see. I didn’t want anyone to be affected.

Because you see, I was trying to cause as little impact as possible.

Because I wanted Brazil so much.

I struggled with knowing Alex and Lisa had definitely gotten a place. I felt like I had to fight each day to earn my way on the boat. There was a terrible fear rising up in me, my self worth was crumbling away I couldn’t talk to anyone how I felt.

This was the price you knew you had to pay, I told myself. You knew.

I was afraid if I spoke my thoughts, I would be dropped off in Namibia. So I swallowed down my fears and shoved them further than I ever had before. I didn’t want to speak to anyone about my worries. I didn’t want to give energy to them. I was fearful if I did, it would give them power, and power would make them a reality.

You’ll be the first to go…

And now?

Brian caught me sobbing on the backstep of Delos in Luderitz on the night of my friend’s funeral. I had thought everyone had gone to bed. I had thought I was alone. But arms caught me in a surprise hug and squeezed hard.

I told him everything.

“Of course you’re coming to Brazil,” he said, squeezing me tighter. “Of course you are, Lizbef! We love you!”

Brian is the big brother I never had. I have a deep sense of security when he is around and a deep sense of comfort. I drew strength from him in that moment, needing that shoulder, needing that strength and reassurance.

I needed his words and most of all that big bear hug that came out of nowhere.

And I do feel loved. But the aftereffects of not knowing for the past two months have gotten to me. My friend’s death had gotten to me. My anxiety had risen. And all of a sudden I was back where I had started, afraid of telling people about this dark wrenching feeling in my chest in case they didn’t want me to stay.

I was trying to deal with it as best as I could.

And then the bad dreams started.

I spent four days without any sleep, tossing and turning, nightmares raging my head of constantly being hunted. I had suffered throughout my entire life with nightmares- they’re the price to pay for having an over active imagination. Why do you think I became a writer?

It seems to be my only outlet.

We were on passage when it happened. My watch was coming up in four hours and I was keen to get some good kip.

But I fell into one bad dream after another.

I was dreaming that we were all trapped in a ship with no sails. We rolled, the wood within old and mouldy. There was a storm and we crashed. The thing had been chasing me and I couldn’t run any more. I dreamt that my crew were being dragged into a hole and I into another, my hands clawing at the sand as it poured over my head.

They were shouting my name over and over.

“Liz!”

I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t breathe.

“Lizzy!”

Hands were around my shoulders, shaking me. Darkness surrounded me and I panicked.

Was I out, was I out?

I wrenched my arms away, terrified again.

The thing had gotten me- the thing had-

A weight came over me and held me in place with a hard hug.

“Liz! It’s all right, mate. You’ve had a bad dream.”

I couldn’t move and I was forced to look around my surroundings. I was in the cabin. Mr Brady looked down at me and gave me a smile.

“Mate, it was a bad dream.”

I nodded and pulled away, my body starting to shake uncontrollably. “Ok mate,” I mumbled. “Sorry…”

I lay back in the bed and wrapped myself in covers, waiting to ride out the shaking, waiting for the fear to drip away piece by piece.

It wasn’t moving and I was frozen.

I heard something rustle and my eyes darted to the door in fear. Alex stared down at me in concern and sat down beside me.

“Hey sweetie,” she said, her soft Californian voice soothing me. “Are you ok?”

But I couldn’t stop trembling, my limbs locking together in a huddle. I nodded, clutching my covers, waiting for it to pass.

She stayed with me for a while and stroked the hair from my face.

“What happened?”

I found my voice somehow and told her. I spilled out my fear for sleep. I spilled out my fear of the shadows. How I couldn’t get to them in my dream. How I was exhausted but too scared to go back to sleep. And then a deep fear started to settle in me on how I would be perceived.

I was at my utter most vulnerable. I was at my most exposed. Forget being naked in the desert, forget puking in a shiny catamaran’s brand new toilet- this was my fear sprawled out into the night for these people to see.

But all I had was love in return.

She offered me everything. A movie. Food. A drink. Did I want to sit in the lounge? Did I want a book? Did I want to sit with her?

I accepted and drink and she sat with me for a while, swapping over with Brady who then changed with Lisa.

Lisa is a very special person on the boat. As I lay on the bed, she held my hand and said a little prayer for me. I was touched by that. I was surrounded by love, and despite feeling embarrassed that as a twenty eight year old I was still suffering from night terrors, I knew I was protected.

Brady will never know how grateful I am for being pulled out of that nightmare. To have someone recognise when it’s happening and drag you out of it is one of the greatest things. And of course I told him I appreciated it, but I don’t think he knows how deeply grateful I am. No one besides from my mother when I was a child could feel when I was lost in a night terror.

So, if you’re reading or hearing this, my friend, thank you.

Soon I was left alone. I was terrified about going back to sleep. Everything took on a menacing aura and shape. The covers moved over my shoulders and I yelped, convinced a hand had come down on me. But there was no one there.

Later I got up for my watch, exhausted and fearful about returning to my cabin.

The watch came and went and soon it was Alex’s turn.

“Mate, take this,” she said, passing me a piece of brownie.

I took it questioningly, knowing that it was from our “special” batch.

“Hopefully that should knock you straight out,” she said.

“Dr Blue’s Medicine, hey?” I nodded gratefully and ate it down greedily. I turned and saw Mr Brady setting up his bed in the lounge to prepare for his night watch later on.

“Are you staying here?” I asked.

He nodded.

I bit my lip and didn’t say anything else. I didn’t want to admit that I was terrified about going to bed that night. That I was terrified at the idea that no one would be there to wake me up. That the idea of going to sleep alone made my stomach twist and my heart beat hard in my chest.

I stepped into the bathroom and stared at my expression for a while.

“You have got to stop this, Elizabeth,” I said sternly. “You are worth so much more than this.”

I wanted to feel happy within myself. I wanted to find peace. I wanted that acidic ball of acidity in my chest to dissipate. I wanted to love myself.

Returning to my bunk, I waited for the brownie to take effect. Prayed for it. Hoped for it. Begged for it.

“Please, please, please,” I murmured, closing my eyes, imagining myself to be the best version I could be. Imagined stripping away those layers of negativity and leaving them with the night.

“No more now, Elizabeth,” I murmured to myself. “You will love yourself now.”

The boat was rocking me peacefully and the covers were wrapped around my body warmly. The malicious sensation was gone, the shadows were normal shadows and the sounds were normal Delos sounds.

There was nothing there to hurt me.

“You will love yourself.”

I took a deep breath and fell into sleep.

No dreams haunted me. Just an abyss to fall into to repair my exhausted mind.

Time has gone on since then and we have arrived in Walvis Bay.

We’ve been here for just over a week and I’m so excited to share with you our adventures- and to share with you the amazing inner transformation that I feel is taking root. Whether it’s peace, clarity or just the kick up the arse that I needed, I feel very different.

I’ve had time to process everything and fully appreciate where I am and what I am doing- realising that I am contributing, that I am helping and that I am worthy of this journey. I still want to prove myself of course, but I know I am wanted, loved and appreciated here.

Why on earth it took me so long to realise that, I don’t know. But with everything I suppose it takes time. And maybe it’s because of you, the Delos Tribe, that I feel good.

I feel a lot more confident in my own ability and my own self worth.

Sleep is easier and I’m much less afraid of the nightmares. I go to bed each time in a good place spiritually and I am so so excited for my future. A lot of good things are happening right now and I really am having the time of my life. I’m so grateful to my crewmates. So grateful. They’ve helped me grow so much. They’ve helped me heal so much.

I know there’s still a journey ahead for my heart and mind, but I’m ready for it.

But for now, I’m pulling on Mr Brady’s wetsuit and he’s unhooking the paddle board for me. There’s been a lot of learning about myself on this journey- I think it’s a good day to learn one more thing.

See you out there!

 

Read more from Elizabeth here! www.earlewrites.com

 

The Delos Diaries: Part 11 “The Shipwreck”

We’re having a mini lie in on Delos. I don’t know why but I haven’t been sleeping too well. My nights have been filled with unpleasant dreams and I can’t seem to snap out of it. I yawn as I finish my tea and wave Karin and Brian off as they head out in Maggie to explore. Brian’s excited about another adventure and was ready to go first thing. The rest of us are still trying to wake up.

We all get ready whilst we wait for Brian and Karin to return, Alex and Brady deciding to head over to the shipwreck via their paddle boards.

I watch them, a little annoyed at myself that I don’t know how to paddle board yet but unwilling to do it in poop infested waters. I’m looking forward to giving it a go in the future in any case and tell myself I’ll learn it soon enough.

They head out, keen to get a head start whilst Lisa and I board Maggie upon Karin and Brian’s return. The heat is intense- a huge change from the previous night whilst we were entertaining our new friend Reon.

The waves aren’t as boisterous as the previous night, however they’re big enough to force Brian to go faster than normal in the dingy. We skip over foam and stretches of blue, laughter spilling from my throat as I’m unable to keep it in any longer.

Ahead in the distance are the two silhouettes of Brady and Alex and we eventually pull up next to them. The water is teaming with life, seals diving up and down in confusion as they check out the strange humans invading their territory.

I’ve never experienced anything like it. Everywhere we turned there was a splash and a pair of curious dark eyes, staring at us, checking us out in mid dive and snorting bubbles beneath the boat. We went on ahead, the waves getting bigger and decided to explore around the other side of the island.

We could see the shipwreck, surrounded by the colony of seals. There didn’t seem to be a safe place to land Maggie without squashing one of the animals, so we decided to investigate further.

A long stretch of perfect beach welcomed our sight as we turned the corner, a wave hot on our heels.

“Hold on, crew!” Brian shouted, revving Maggie’s engine.

The wave towered behind us and I gripped the safety rope tightly, trusting him completely. The wave came and the dingy rose high and over the treacherous waters, yet another burst of laughter and whooping erupting from my lungs. We continued like that as we surfed the waves and I wished we would never stop.

Eventually came the time to land Maggie. We anchored her out on the shore, but on second thoughts dragged her onto the beach, worried that a wave would come and flip her over.

We knew you couldn’t take the ocean for granted.

We stepped onto the sand, our eyes tracing across the images that we naively hoped we wouldn’t see again.

More skulls.

Bones, rib cages and spines littered the beach as a silent graveyard of death. I know that it’s the power of nature, but a part of me was repulsed and fascinated by it.

I picked up a skull, and lay it flat in my hand.

To be…or not to be…! That is the question!” I looked up expectantly with a grin, my smile falling almost immediately. My Macbeth impression had gone unheard, drifting off into the wind as the rest of the crew discussed how to better secure Maggie.

Awkwardly standing with a skull in my hand, I sighed and unceremoniously dropped it, muttering that it had been a damn good impersonation.

“No one appreciates Shakespeare anymore…” I mumble.

We walked onwards around the towering cliff face, spotting some animal tracks leading upwards through the rocks.

We followed it, trying to avoid rocks and bones from crumbling beneath our heels and failing miserably.

“This is how you get peasant feet,” Karin said, trying to keep her balance.

I made a sound of agreement, my own already destroyed from our barefoot antics from the past three months. I remembered the time when my feet used to look nice, presentable- appropriate. Now they were bruised, cut, hard and no nail polish in sight. I could probably walk across hot coals and not feel a thing.

I was a long way away from my modern day presentable English self.

I had gone medieval.

It was nice how my way of thinking was beginning to change. There were things that made a hell of a lot of sense on Delos that I knew I would continue doing. I mean, canned chicken made a lot of sense, why shower every day? Did my hair really need washing all the time? Why wouldn’t I bulk buy food? Why would I ever go back and work for someone else? Why wouldn’t I want to wear whatever I wanted all of the time? Why would I feel the pressure of eating things I didn’t really like just to stay skinny? Why is being naked bad? Why wouldn’t I want to carry on travelling? Why would I take chemicals to fix my body when everything I needed came from plants? Why wouldn’t I eat organic food? Why wouldn’t I buy more natural things to put in my body?

I felt like I was just waking up.

So many things came into my mind every day and I felt like each day I was getting closer to being a true form of myself.

We continued to climb, the sun beating down on us, our lungs heaving and livers regretting having the moonshine and wine from the night before.

“Why do we always do something like this at the hottest point of the day?” Karin demanded.

I didn’t have the breath to answer her, seeing Brian happily skip further and further up as the girls stayed together. The fear of finding a pack of hyenas or jackals at the top scorched through my mind.

“If you see one, stay absolutely calm,” Karin said. “And then look for something big for a weapon.”

The idea of fighting a wild animal didn’t appeal to me. Part of me hoped that they would be happy enough with Brian and would be too full to worry about three little women.

Eventually we get to the top of the cliff face.

Brian is grinning from ear to ear, still alive with no hyenas in sight.

“Take a look at this, Lizbef.”

I take the last couple of steps to the top and swear.

“Jesus Christ…”

Below lay a step trail to the beach, perfectly enclosed by cliffs, baring off the rage from the sea. Further up was a bright green pool shimmering beneath the sun and around that was a mass of wriggling brown shapes.

But I looked further ahead and that was when I saw it.

Our shipwreck.

I stared at it, feeling the sun burn my skin and my throat constrict with lack of water. Greedily taking a slug from my bottle, I take in the sight of even more bones as Brian starts to walk down.

The wind hits me, carrying a thick scent of rot, but I continue my descent.

The walk is difficult as I wave my arms in the air with the effort to not slice my feet up even more than they were. Stepping down sideways, I make it half way when Brian shouts up, pointing behind me.

I frown, unable to hear and look up back at Karin and Lisa, further up than me. I see nothing, shrug and continue my walk downwards, eventually getting to Brian.

“Dude, there were two jackals behind you guys!” Brian said excitedly.

My eyes widen. “Whaaa?”

Shocked that they had gotten so close and I hadn’t even seen them, I wrinkled my nose.

“Oh my God…” I gasped. “It stinks!”

I cannot tell you how bad the smell was in that beach enclosure. It has far been the worst smell I have ever witnessed in my life. It was the mixture of rotting meat, ammonia, fish, seal poop and the unmistakable scent of death.

We approached the bright green pool to see it resembled more like a pool of slime. We gave it a wide berth, jumping over even more spines of dead seals, their fur scattered across the ground in torn clumps.

The seals ran away from us immediately despite our slow movements, waddling their huge weight up and down as they shuffled away. We felt really bad about frightening them, but we were desperate to get a closer look at the shipwreck. It loomed over us as a black and orange rusting giant, waves crashing through its starboard side and throughout.

We took pictures, filmed and explored the area, the smell so intense it was making me feel nauseous. Karin climbed a little way back up the cliff just to take a break from it.

I gazed through one of the holes in the portside of the boat, gazing into the intricate metal workings of her belly.

Black, green and grey stared back at me, twisted metal, levers, knobs and switches still wet from the previous wave. The boat was completely snapped in half, the bow about 30 feet away. I peered around the opening of the centre of the boat to be greeted by more waves pounding against the side and rushing within. I jumped back before I got soaked, noticing that there was a five second window between the blast of the ocean to get inside.

It would make a great story… my mind whispered.

“Do you think it’d be cool if I went inside?” I asked him.

He took a long moment to reply, weighing up the odds. “I wouldn’t do it,” he said at last.

I nodded in understanding. It wasn’t safe. That much was true. But it didn’t stop me from going over to Karin and asking exactly the same thing.

“You do what you want,” was her answer with a smile and a laugh. “But don’t take the 4k- take the GoPro.”

My mind was decided. Turning back to the boat, I crept towards the split belly yawning open to the crashing waves. They diminished eventually, five seconds of clear sand freeing the way until the next one came.

I waited, taking a step forwards too close to the portside of the boat. My foot started to sink in the sand immediately. I wrenched my foot away and took a breath, wondering whether I should or not.

The darkness beckoned within, the last wave had crashed and the way was now free. The GoPro shook in my hand as I counted myself in.

1…2…3!

I dived inside, holding my breath as the darkness surrounded me, echoes from the water of the ocean drowning out everything else.

A strange feeling pressed down within my core as I walked around, knowing I didn’t have long left before it started to fill with water and that I would have no choice but to stay within.

My body tensed as the first wave came, washing over my feet, ankles and halfway up my calves.

Think of the story…

My body rushed with adrenaline as I walked around the wreck, only moving when the water had died down around my feet. I didn’t want to risk falling against the boat and making it fall on top of my head.

I stood still, taking in the presence of the boat. I imagined what it would have felt like when it had crashed against the rocks. I imagined what it would feel like to anyone to be on a sinking ship. A panic rose up in me as another wave started to fill inside and I allowed myself to feel the full force of experiencing it from another person’s perspective.

There was a primal urge that was beginning to shriek within me:

“You are not supposed to be here! Get out!”

I was all too happy to oblige, the water rising higher and higher. I waited, forcing myself to be calm and waited for the tide to retreat. As soon as I saw my path was clear, I darted outwards.

The current crashed behind me, the foam licking my heels as I ran.

I had made it.

Euphoria hit me as sunlight hit my eyes as I waved the GoPro around victoriously.

What a story! What an adventure!

We retreated from the island, hot, hungry and maybe a little overwhelmed by everything we had seen. As we got to the top of the cliff again, we saw a jackal down by the shore, investigating Maggie.

We all started to howl as one and the wild animal quickly ran away at the sound of our pack. Laughing, we returned to Maggie to haul her back into the water and to surf the waves back home.

Returning to Delos we found Alex and Brady freshly showered, drinking beers in the hammocks and listening to country music.

Lisa and I showered naked outside, keen to rid ourselves of sand and sweat. It’s our first shower in a week and suddenly we don’t care who sees at all.

The Naked Dune Day was a huge step for me and I didn’t even appreciate how. I continued to lounge and relax in just my undies, feeling a comfort in it around these people. No one cares. Alex is swinging on her hammock in the same fashion, a big smile on her face.

And in this moment we’re happy.

We’re content.

I stare out into the horizon, my heart beating hard in my chest. I’m finding despite my tiredness that I can’t settle. I can’t relax even though that is the epitome of what should be right now. The sun beams down on my skin, my burns and scrapes forgotten. I turn around and around, blinding skies of blue burning in my eyes.

I’m trying to process it. But it overwhelms me.

The crew are spread out on deck, happily swinging their feet to music and sipping on their beers. As soon as I sit down I need to stand again. As soon as I stand I need to walk.

I find a beer in my hand, the music cranked up. Some cowboy singing about being in paradise.

Hey, I know that feeling, buddy, I want to say.

I’m overwhelmed suddenly how I almost missed out on this opportunity. How I almost missed out on this life experience.

There had always been the chance that I wasn’t able to join. It all depended on how well I sailed and if six people didn’t feel like too much.

The magnitude of that stuns me, sobers me and twitches my body into a never-ending set of movements. Words seem too bulky and clumsy to ever explain the magnitude of this experience on my shoulders. So I sit in silence, not knowing what to say except:

“This is it.”

I repeat myself to Alex several times and she nods in a simplistic understanding that says: “no more needs to be said.”

Maybe we’re all feeling it in our own way. Maybe I’m not alone in this sensation of being overwhelmed by the direction my path has suddenly turned. I’m trying really hard to better myself and to grow. The time I’ve spent on here has made me realise that I need a lot of self-healing. And sometimes I don’t know where to start. Sometimes I feel incredibly down- maybe that’s frustration. I’m surrounded by these incredible humans who have achieved so much, who have grown so much and I know I have a lot still to learn.

I want to be a good person.

And I want to be good to myself.

And although we all have our low moments for whatever reasons- (we’re all on our own paths after all) I feel incredible and so very lucky.

It’s like a huge relief or a huge weight being taken off my shoulders. A knowledge that I am living an adventure I can tell when I’m old. But it’s not just that. I’ve had an eternal fear of not living my life. I was so scared that I would end up in an office where I would spend the rest of my days in order to get that mortgage. That I would waste my days with grey skies and concrete walls.

The knowledge that I have escaped that and will never return to it has given me a huge sense of peace. Relief. Gratitude.

I feel saved.

So that is the reason why I am twitching, unable to stand, unable to sit.

That is the reason why I feel overwhelmed.

I have been saved.

I recall the sensation of what it was like stepping inside the ship one more time and smile. I think of the Ghost Town, of Naked Dune Day, of the Penguin Man and of all the other adventures we’ve had together in the past three months.

My smile widens.

What a story to tell.

 

Read more from Elizabeth here! www.earlewrites.com

The Delos Diaries: Part 9 “Naked Dune Day.”

The morning comes and Brian is excited about another day of exploring.

“Ok, guys, there’s this dune we have to climb- it’s about a 3km walk there and then we climb the dune. So it’s probably about an hour and a half there and an hour and a half back. What you reckon?” View More

The Delos Diaries: Part 8 “The Skeleton Coast.”

I look down at the thing that has just crunched beneath my feet and take a step back quickly.

“Bones…” I mutter in astonishment. The white skull beneath my foot stares back at me accusingly, the deep black holes where eyes once were sunk deeper into the sand beneath my footprint. View More

The Delos Diaries: Part 7 “The Ghost Town of Luderitz.”

“It’s only seven thirty,” Alex said cheerfully. “We’ve got loads of time.”

Surrounded by music and dancing people in Luderitz, I wasn’t ready to go back to Delos right now. Brady had just returned from dropping off Lisa, Karin and Brian to the boat and was ready for a couple of drinks at the Cray Fish Festival. View More

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