Stood right on the north (rotational) pole and watched the sunset. Spirals slowly down, gets bisected by the horizon, then gone. The days don't get shorter up there, just one "day" per year, and one "night." Took a bit for us to realize it was really gone for good since all of our previous experience taught us it would poke up again, Funny how the brain works. Once reality sunk in we set off in a hurry for the trek across the ice to the boat. Flashlights might have been a good idea if we'd thought of them.
There was also a seal on that trip that followed us around like a dog. He/she/it seemed to like listening to the boat with its ear. Then it would pop up and excitedly bark "ahrrt, ahrrt, ahrrt!" We didn't have enough food on that trip so there was talk of eating him. Instead we shared our saltines.
How many submariners are on this forum anyway?
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1968 Hinckley Pilot 35, Audra.
(c) Joe McCary.