Released from the Ordinary

This afternoon a friend said, "You've spoken of Richard Halliburton, haven't you?"
"Yes, why?"
"His name is mentioned in a mystery I'm reading."

 I received a copy of Halliburton's book—The Book of Marvels—as a birthday present when I was ten. Halliburton was presumed dead a number of years before I received the book. My father, fascinated by Halliburton's  adventures, often read a chapter after, or before I read the chapter. We poured over maps following Halliburton's travels. That's where I learned the art of armchair traveling.

 Halliburton commissioned the building of a Chinese junk, named the Sea Dragon, for what turned out to be his last adventure. He intended to sail it from Hong Kong to San Francisco. On March 4th , 1939 he set sail. Radio communication continued until March 23, 1939 and then ceased—possibly due to the weather conditions. One could wonder about his lack of understanding of the risks involved —not only the perils of the ocean, but by Japan's gathering strength.

"...I wanted freedom, freedom to indulge in whatever caprice struck my fancy, freedom to search in the farthermost corners of the earth..."                                                                                  

He wrote of life , " Just about a month from now I'm set adrift, with a diploma for a sail and lots of nerve for oars."

His was an unfettered life, free, released from the ordinary.