[NetBehaviour] Bliwana effect or affect

Simon Mclennan mclennanfilm at gmail.com
Wed Dec 28 23:57:27 CET 2022

That was it!

She exclaimed somewhat judiciously as I, Leo, lay supine upon the deck of
the tiny yacht moored
just off the sea wall of Gibraltar harbour  - mmm this was late Jurassic,
so no seawall actually ha ha... only a great serpentine rock of humongous
proportions - its glittering profile a deep dark green reflecting a lemony
shadow across our bows.

What was it? i replied in as interested tone as I could summon - not least
as I was presently
trying to free a massive Crustacea - half heartedly - a crablike fiend -
from the net draped over the bowsprit.

That was the Bliwana effect - you now, that shadow entity, emanating from
Ivory Coast, Abidjan
specifically, or up by the fishing huts on the West side of town...

A billion tiny dugongs crud-like and thick, in a corner of the temple by
the petrol station next to
the peanut vendor... we waltzed out of the St Limon coracle by way of
Western Isles and
Dublin, the coracle was shot, draping tar covered sheets and abandoned in
crinoline skirts
we borrowed off the King's attendants, just about made it through the
vortex of tin cans, banana
peels and condoms - harbour was fluorescent with petrol spillage and tar
sands surrounded the
whole shebang.

I'd shoehorned us through the portal - dandelions, baby crocs, living
sponges and you had been reading Vanity of Duluoz.

By now I had freed the trilobite and let him slip back under the sea. He
turned and regarded me for a moment then dived deep into the lime waters
heading for what looked like a great reef of sponge, living corals and

Aye, now I remember, twas yon bliwana million dollar affect - tender horns
n'est ce pas plus
all curling tongs, tuning prongs and anything else vaguely string-like and

Bliwana Bliwana where did you go?
Bliwana Bliwana where did you dive to?
Was it the cave?
Was it the sea floor?
Was it the diamond mine?
Oh Bliwana we love you - although you are free
We are locked in our hearts and cannot escape our fate
Our terrible love is hot yet tender
And as we ascend to the apex
We sing your song of dense and buildable and brick-like strength
Send us your musical and poetic message of hope
So we can dance under more moon sets and star avalanches

That was the song we had learned to sing whenever the dugongs appeared.

Yes, I replied.

Yes, it did the trick, that time and many other times.  Our escape was
completed when we
hefted the old hollow log and the two bottles of shandy, enabling us to
defibrillate the craft so to speak, and we coracled the hell out of there,
jumping across to Lisbon, then erupting from Vesuvius and planing it back
home. Safe.

Yeah it was sick.

Speaking of which, shall we go ashore and check this emerald of a rock?

Yep, no canons and apes however - only termites and dusty old caves.

We tripped across the shining sand to the field of leathery plants, to an
arbour of
topaz and rusty coconut fibres thence to crack open the fizz and wait for
our mates who were following later on that evening.

Joy to all!

Simon x
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