I make the halu with an old F2 supertanker sailboard.
In a few minutes you fly 3 miles over water, with the elements for company, having sort-of tamed a big yellow thing that just wants to kill you.
A simple and visceral form of sailing, akin to the flight of a gull. Slashing crests over darkened, wind-streaked seas.
Carried, in the eerie cocoon of the wind.
Sometimes the islands appear to be floating. Sea mist laps round them and they are rising up, Laputa.
Toward evening, a mock sun appears.
The cloudscape has appeared as it does in a child’s weather book, where you are shown every sort of cloud in the same sky….mares’ tails, mackerel, cirrus.
Cumulus, with pretensions of nimbus. Distant, side-lit and towering.
The clouds are like sky animals.