One moment I was on solid ground, and the next I was flying through the air, legs splayed. Below me was open water -- six feet across and getting wider -- and not just any water, but oil-slicked, litter-strewn, noxiously-bubbling Bangkok canal water. In a moment of mid-flight regret I pictured myself being helped back up to the quay with greasy water dripping off of me and hundreds of onlookers laughing and fumbling for their cameras. The thought passed quickly -- I had more pressing concerns.
I wasn't even in a hurry. I might have saved myself ten or fifteen minutes. But when I came down to the dock and saw the boat pulling away, it triggered in me my inner action hero. I bounded down the stairs, picked up speed in a few big strides, then launched myself...
All eyes were on me as I flew through the air. My landing zone was a five inch width of wet gunwale. At waist height there was an only semi-taught rope that I may or may not have been able to steady myself with. I knew it wouldn't be the easiest landing...but man did I stick it. Beautifully, gracefully, a ten point landing to be sure. I stepped down into the boat, ducking in under the rope, to the gentle applause of the smiling passengers. The boat pilot turned around and gave me a thumbs up, and a one armed man gave me a toothless smile. I felt pretty good about myself as the boat cut its way down the canal, and I sat there on the wooden bench and thought about what a stupid thing I had just done.
What a great post about the water canal taxis. I am happy that you didn't fall into sewage water.
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