CALL ME THOR

I just finished reading Kon-Tiki, the tale of Thor Heyerdahl sailing across the Pacific in 1947 on nine balsa logs. Really, right? He had this theory that the Polynesian islands were settled not by explorers from the east but rather by South Americans on rafts, carried by the tradewinds across 4,300 miles of ocean.

Nobody believed his theory, which I can sort of understand. It does SOUND ridiculous, but none of the "experts" would even read about it, so he set out to prove it was possible and convinced five other men to go with him -- on nine balsa logs tied together with homemade rope. 4,300 miles.

As I was reading, random thoughts rolled through my brain, like how cool is it that they were only a foot above the water, practically living with the sea life. How awesome would it be to look a whale shark in the mouth? Balsa rafts cannot sink. Hmmm. Isn't it brilliant that tons of boarding seawater drains right through the floor. Wouldn't that be fun to wrestle a six-foot shark on board by the tail.

I'm pretty sure these are the things my mother is referring to when she tells my niece she's worried about my sailing plans.

Of course, at some point during my reading, another thought floated by ... you're an idiot.