Thursday, January 31, 2008 4:53:56 PM
new born baby, bizarre, childbirth, memorial diamonds
...
Being a 'memorial diamond' maker, I have made REAL diamonds from both ashes (Cremains) and hair with no difficulty.
Today I started converting the umbilical cord of a new born baby - why?? 'Memorial Diamonds' from DEATH is one thing, but celebrating LIFE is much better.
So, with the help of a couple who had suffered a still-born death of their first child and the hospital staff, I have my donated umbillical cord and have started extracting the carbon from the cord of their healthy new born baby. It will be further treated, then compressed at 10,000 tons per square inch, heated to 1300c for a few weeks which will make a raw diamond crystal to be then cut and polished as a natural mined diamond is.......
So there you have it, for all that read this, if it works and all turns out OK - a WORLD FIRST - and you read it here first....
Thursday, December 14, 2006 3:06:54 PM
Celestine prophecies, weird stuff, bizarre
Celestine intervention........a true story
Around August 1999, Biscayne Bay, Miami
Having had no success in Key West at finding a gal to crew with me, I anchored in the Dinner Quay area of Miami. I had heard that the Coconut Grove Sailing Club could yield someone and I intended to ask around. Now this sailing club is expensive, so suggesting that I was only there for a very short time on my quest, I was invited to frequent the members bar as a signed-in visitor. The weeks past...After 'hitting' on every girl almost every day with no success, I was eventually introduced to Hilda [Cadena], a lovely girl from a Cuban family...being blunt (as you know I am!!) I asked if she would come to the Bahamas with me - for about 6 weeks or so..."absolutely NOT!!" she said, "I don't know you and besides I don't have the time". Naturally, I was disappointed at this almost last opportunity, but we had a few nice days sailing at the weekend....Suddenly one evening, she rushed into the bar and said "Mike, I've changed my mind, I will come with you after all" - I was very surprised by this sudden change of heart and asked her what had changed her mind? "I have been reading this book for some time" she said..."it's all about destiny and coincidencies, so I do think YOU coming here and your quest are somehow connected...you can read it if you like and tell me what you think", and so I did.....
Back in Merry Old Blighty. Life goes on .....Jules and I had not spoken for a while and it was time to make contact whilst land and 'phones were still available. Totally out of the blue, my biking friend Pete [a wacky guy to say the least - but that's another story!!] had made a point of calling on Jules on that very evening I was calling.....[neither of us had seen Pete for a long time but he often just 'popped in']
" Hi Babe, how are things"?...and with my usual interruptive enthusiasm, I started to tell her of my travels...."Pete's here" she says....but I had already started to tell her that I was reading this fantastic and weird book that Hilda had given me....[now Jules knows I do not read books and this one has to be significant]...."don't say another word" - Jules interrupts..."Pete says he has brought me a book for you to read"....[silence at both ends]..."what's it called?" I asked....and then suddenly as though compelled to speak in sync' we both said "THE CELESTINE PROPHECIES".......
As most people know - the book is about guiding coincidences, divine intervention, chance and choices, the journey through life being already mapped out.
Edited 080905.0724
Extracts from ‘An Angel on my Shoulder’
Thursday, December 14, 2006 3:01:24 PM
sailing, rescue
Late afternoon, inside a beautiful hurricane hole (White Sound) Green Turtle, Abaco, Bahamas....enjoying drinks on the aft deck of a couple of English friends sail boat, laughing and joking we spot a dinghy pottering by, automatically we hoist our glasses to salute the pretty girls aboard, I shout to one -“I hope you can dance?” to which comes the reply “of course, pick me up at eight on the boat over there”....[my god – I've got a date!!!]. Quarter to eight, my enthusiasm abounds, I head for the boat anchored nearby. Just as I get about 6 feet away the girl shouts whilst SIMULTANEOUSLY LEAPING THE GAP down to my dinghy...”GO, GO, GO – he's got a gun!!!!!” without hesitation I didn't wait to see if any bullets were to follow - we are off.... as we speed away I notice a guy staggering up the companionway also shouting his head off...”I'll kill her, I'll kill her.....” but his voice is drowned out by the revving of my engine as we speed away....Having reached the shore and nearby dock of the Bluff House hotel, we join our English friends and climb the steep road to the bar, a discovery announced by tears and sobs reveals our damsel is injured?, blood is pouring from a head wound and her face is badly beaten??? “What on earth has happened?” we ask and the tale is told....
The bedraggled girl [Y] had agreed to sail with her new boyfriend but found herself kidnapped aboard the boat they sailed for days before arriving in the confines of White Sound, Green Turtle. A chance meeting with another couple they had met allowed for an unchallenged release, the captor had become drunk whilst the damsel made her leap to freedom and now the words “GUN, BULLETS, FISTS, BLOOD” seem like a nightmare script from TV. “You can't go back” I say “stay on my boat and I'll get your things tomorrow”.....Much dancing, much music and too much booze, the evening ends and all four of us stagger back to the safety of are boats – agreeing to look out for each other till dawn comes....Now, alone with my rescued damsel, I promise to be a gentleman and let her sleep in comfort in the forward Captain cabin, she takes her clothes off revealing huge black and blue bruises... streams of tears again flood her face – we hug with not a thought of sex, now totally wrecked we simply sleep.....
Next day, intrepidly but fearless I approach the kidnappers boat, "B" I shout “don't give me any grief – just give me Y's belongings”...”I had already packed them early this morning, they are in these bin bags” he says. Loading them aboard, he quietly states “but she's got the gun – I've got the bullets” which stuns me for a short time... I get back to 'Daze Off' and confront Y about this revelation...”I had to steal the gun and remove the bullets so he couldn't shoot me” she sobs, again the ordeal is revisited...rooting inside a small handbag she had escaped with, she pulls out a large 9mm automatic. Now I have a problem bigger than anything I have ever experienced - ANYONE found in possession of firearms not declared on entry into the Bahamas faces a long jail sentence... as Captain I should declare this fact immediately to the police but it will mean certain arrest of Y and also B and probably myself. I ask her to simply throw the gun overboard for all our sakes but she says she has to keep it “as B will come after her!!!!” Oooops, what have I got into???
My damsel agree's to a pact which hides the gun and keeps me out of it....in the meantime the tide has risen a few times to allow B to steal out of the Sound without anyone noticing....The days pass by, the wounds and bruises heal and my damsel blossoms into a lovely girl. We discuss the whole affair with others (one of which had experience of 'Wife Beating') and we all say Y should simply forget B and put it down to experience. I suggest she stays just a few days longer before trying to get a flight back to the USA. One blisteringly hot day Y states she needs to go to the airport to secure a ticket B has paid for?? Seemingly, they have been in contact with each other and B has stumped up the cash [as is his legal obligation as Captain] for Y to get back home???....not believing anything into it - we talk about dancing again that evening and so we wave goodbye till about 5pm.
5pm comes and goes?? 6, 7, 8pm - and now I'm worried.... I call many boats, no one has seen her at all?? and a search is launched. Phoning the police is a laid back task in itself and the experience turns out to be farcical...firstly 'Kidnap' and 'Wife beating' are unknown [unreported!!?] phenomena in the Bahamas and when I unfold the full story - the 1st policeman can't believe it for one minute stating that his “superior will have to take charge”....I have to tell the whole story all over again to Sgt B...he can't believe it either and asks why I hadn't reported the situation sooner...he too has to pass the serious crime to a top officer at Nassau police HQ. Police Captain C is given the story – chapter and verse with a finale that “this is a serious situation, she may have been killed”.....A night and a day pass....A full sweep and a wide search have produce results....the boat and B have been seen in Marsh Harbour (but not Y) and so the police - in full force [of one!!!! sic] commandeer a local fisherman to take the officer to talk to B......
By various routes, telephone calls and meetings and despite all our attempts to warn Y of B's tendency to be a 'wife beater' for ever – it turns out that the 'beaten' have rejoined the 'beater'.... and nothing is heard of either of them or the boat again – they simply vanished
Thursday, December 14, 2006 2:30:26 PM
TRUE fishing stories.....1
One day, whilst anchored alone in Bakers Bay, Abaco, N. Bahamas, I thought I would cast a few lines out to see what would jump on the hooks???.... I had saved a lot of disgusting smelly bait ready to attach it to a 50lb (breaking strain) throw-line which had 4 huge 1" hooks...I baited the whole reel and swung it around my head to cast it as far as I could.....as I let go, one of the hooks propelled by its adjacent heavy lead weight - still clinging to its rotting fish - swished past my head and suddenly embedded itself in my middle finger...I hadn't realized at first what had happened, but as I looked what the pain in my finger was - I saw the tip of the barb on the hook protruding out of the end of my finger, there was no pain at that time but I realized the 50lb line was still on the hook and that the line was wrapped tightly around the safety rails....I couldn't move off the fore deck, there was no scope, I couldn't unravel the line as it was well and truly knotted - I was snookered, hook, line and sinker!!!!!...all I could do now was try and break the line, I wrapped it tight around my wrist to try and snap it off the reel, it dug deep into my flesh before it snapped suddenly...allowing me to stagger back to the cockpit.
Seeing the mess, the blood, the torn finger the end of the hook, it made me feel sick, by now the pain was attaching itself to the nightmare vision...I tried to pull the barb BACK the way it went in...no joy, it was not going to come back that way...Could I pass it through the way it was pointing? - not with the curve of the hook, it was huge!!!.... made of spring steel I tried to cut it with pliers....the pain was horrendous..eventually I did find some bolt cutters but cutting this hard steel was its limit...eventually, forcing the cutters to perform beyond their capability - I snipped the shank, I then tried again to pull it through the finger but it was dragging the tendon so I had no choice but to cut into the flesh to get to the last bit of shank...almost collapsing with excruciating agony the remaining part wouldn't pass through the route made by the sharp end!!! - it was trying to widen the hole - I had to pull the hook back and snip off what was left and then pull the point through hole it has made and then out....I tried to grip the tip - the pain was making me almost pass-out...GIN!!!!..that was my only thought - two big gulps neat!! ... I gripped the tip with pliers and yanked the 1" length of bent hook out...the blood spurted in a jet [but at least it could be cleaning itself out!!]...I sat down and viewed the damage....in the night that followed the finger throbbed so much my nightmares translated the pain into dog bites...I woke up in agony to see my finger swollen like a tight sausage....dawn came, I radioed for help, a nearby scout-troop raced to my assistance and haul my anchor...I sailed all day to Marsh harbour - the only surgical help available....penicillin, someone else cleaning it and a secure night in a marina had never been so welcome.
Thursday, December 14, 2006 2:17:14 PM
fishy tale, weird, wacky, bizarre
True Fishy tale No.3
My friend lives ashore on the island of Greater Abaco, he like his friends just love to fish, they fish both night and day and any spare time they can get away....one day, whilst trolling (dragging a line with spinners at about 10knots) he caught a shark which put up a great fight for hours but eventually gave up.
Hauling it on-board, it was slit open to reveal a human hand in its stomach ...everyone jumped back in astonishment staring at this obviously ripped off white hand still holding a multi-purpose tool called a 'Leatherman'?....
The coastguard was called on the emergency channel which brought a reply and a question....”are there any distinguishing marks on the hand??. The fishermen noticed a gold ring, they prised open the clenched fingers and removed the wide gold band, inside was a small inscription which they conveyed to the coastguard....a crackle of static and a reply came back....”we're sending a BASRA helicopter for the hand, put it in ice - it was bitten off another fisherman who was trying to extract a hook from the mouth of a shark which he thought was dead, it had suddenly snapped his hand clean off”....looks of amazement all around with the response - ”OK, we'll do that, but? can I keep the Leatherman”..........
Extract from 'Sailing with Angels' Daze Off
Thursday, December 14, 2006 2:04:29 PM
sailing, cruising
True fishy tales 2.
Being naked and swimming naked is the done thing whist sailing in the Caribbean. One morning I had decided to swim to a nearby friends boat. Being seasoned Ozzies they were not phased by a naked Englishman circling their sail boat shouting “good morning”....treading the bath-warm water idly chatting away – I could feel a tickle around my bum and around my belly and then suddenly realized I was being nipped by a few big fish.....”holy crap” I shouted - “I'm off, I'm being eaten here”, the Ozzie lad suggested there had been a barracuda under his boat all night and I panicked thinking it was that!!!!....I made for my boat about 20 yards away, the fish now were nipping my belly and I was concerned for my man-hood – now I had to swim with one hand holding my willy the other frantically paddling to help my flippers get some speed up...it was no good, they were really having their way...looking under water – I could see that they were big Remora's [fish with suckers on the top of their heads which they use to stick themselves to sharks and whales]...they thought I was a whale???, I didn't really want these free loaders sticking themselves to bellos so with the other hand I'm now trying to fend off fish. Holding my willy and waving my free arm whilst swimming backward naked is surely a bizarre sight, I leapt out of the water onto my yachts ladder like a performing dolphin.......
Thursday, December 14, 2006 1:21:32 PM
sailing, near death, murder, Bahamas
...
Sat, 23rd August 2003, 3.45pm
The last month aboard my sailboat ‘Daze Off’. Location : The idylic Bakers Bay, Abaco, Bahamas.
A sizzling hot day, clear blue skies, crystal clear seas - ‘bath water’ warm. After a trip ashore in my 16ft Carolina, I rounded the almost deserted bay headland and remembered the captain of a power boat had anchored nearby (an Englishman who I had met at a Xmas party 02). Skimming by, I waved hello, his fiancé asked if I’d like a beer? Tying up my Carolina and flush with fresh lobster tails - I offered some with their welcome ‘sundowners’, the Capt. was laughing and joking and introduced me to his Mum. I said I would go and put my shopping away and come back with wine. Returning, I tied off on the stern, we opened the wine and made our way to the top deck to watch the sunset. The Capt. was cooking on the BBQ whilst chatting to his Mum.
The afternoon progressed, he was constantly 'having a go' as we discussed different things - the banter being negative from the Capt but cordial, Mum said "now boys stop going on – and eat" The Capt. voiced a couple of digs but strangely shook my hand? complimenting me on living afloat 5 yrs in the Bahamas, though he was negative and rude most of the time - I didn’t rise to the occasion and just carried on laughing and joking with the girls. The Capt. disappeared (I thought for more wine). Suggesting to the girls that it was time for me to head back- I had no sooner stood up when the engines started? and the boat roared off? knocking glasses everywhere!! Walking into the main salon I asked “what’s the plan, where are we going?” No response from The Capt. (His fiancé didn't know what was going on either), I said to The Capt. "I don't want to go much further past my boat, so just let me off" - NO response??, I then tried to pull the dink towards the moving boat's stern but couldn't, so I asked The Capt. to stop, stating that I didn't want to go all the way back to the main land over 7 miles away – still NO response?, he just rushed uptop and didn’t seem to be at the helm - so I tried to stop the boat at the lower controls and rushed to the stern, I almost succeeded untying the dragging dink but the boat roared off again. His fiancé puzzled at what was going on as I grabbed the lower controls for a 2nd time slowing the boat just enough to unhook the dink but the boat sped off [now my dink was adrift in the open sea] I had no choice - I jumped overboard - the wake pulled me violently underwater but I surfaced to see my dink in the distant white wake, I also noticed that The Capt.’s boat was turning around?, I thought he was coming back to apologise but he was heading at speed right at me? – I scrambled onboard my dink, started the engine just as his boat missed me!!!! - I gestured 'Up Yours' and he laughed making some gesture back.
Perhaps I should have left the matter there – but, I realized that he must have done this on purpose?? he saw me struggling in deep water!!! and just sailed away? I was furious and chased after him (his boat was not as fast as my dink) Motoring along side – shouting that I thought he was raving mad - he just laughed? "your'e a bloody raving lunatic" I shouted - but just at that exact moment my engine stopped dead, Oh no!! I realized something had wrapped around the prop. Struggling to free it I saw that The Capt.’s boat was turning around? (I thought he was coming back to help) but he was coming straight at my beam? I stood up in my little boat saying "Are you actually TRYING to kill me"? – with anger in his eyes he just headed straight for me - beam on, the towering bow of his boat crashed heavily into my dink - the only chance I had was to dive onto his bow rail as it rushed past, but as I hung on - pleading for help - The Capt. came racing to the bow raining vicious blows at my head and arms - I had to let go and fell into a silence of swirling bubbles as two screws spiralled inches from my head ……
Arms stretched out like a cross and submerged about 8ft, I looked upward into streams of evening sunlight, there was no panicking or even gasping for air?? My first thought was - is this death? Are my eyes still functioning with my dying brain?......but to my amazement I surfaced, my dink was 10 yards away, I started swimming but was so exhausted I didn't think I would make it - then I noticed The Capt.’s boat was heading for me again - I had almost made it when he crashed heavily between my salvation pushing us apart. Whilst he laughed and just sailed by I shouted and pleaded that I didn't want to die this way and that I couldn't swim any longer, he just looked on, laughing - but with my heart pounding I did manage and reached the safety of my dink – Oh God help me -The Capt.’s boat was turning around yet again!! With a massive burst of adrenalin I quickly clambered aboard [now, I NEVER usually have a hand-held radio in my dink but on this special day I did?] I hailed for help on ch68. The Capt.’s boat seemed to slow down in a large and menacing circle, he must have heard my radio plea and the panic responses back but he still headed towards me again, I had to stop broadcasting to put on my life jacket – ready for the next attack – however I also saw 2 dinks racing from the distant bay. The Capt.’s boat turned away and headed off……..
Safely aboard my Carolina along with my rescuers we discovered the painter had in deed wrapped round the prop', we freed it and headed back. Shocked and totally exhausted I sat onboard their boat still shaking and in a state of absolute relief... I collapsed in tears (of joy at being alive).
Why did he do it? - I am clueless to this day. His girlfriend and the only witness left the islands the next day, the police investigated but he too flew off the islands to meet with his girl friend who he then attacked, the Florida police arrested him and there was talk of deportation.
An abridged true story extracted from ‘Sailing with Angels’ by Mike Kelly
edited 070905.1857
My Opera
