The sea doesn’t warn you. It doesn’t care who you are, what rank you hold, or how well you swim. In 1945, Edgar Harrell - a young Marine aboard the USS Indianapolis - found himself tossed into an ocean of blood, oil, and sharks.
Five days he floated. No food. No water. Just faith. When I saw the image of that ship heading into the mouth of a great white - part nightmare, part truth - I thought of him.
I thought of two boys on surfboards who once saved my life. And I thought of how, in a world gripped by fear, someone must still call out: look at the sky, stay on your back, breathe - help is coming.
I had never heard of Edgar Harrell. His name, like so many from the past, drifted quietly beneath the surface of history - until one day, a video clip pulled him into my world.
In it, an elderly man calmly recounts a nightmare: five days adrift in shark-infested waters after the USS Indianapolis was torpedoed on the 30th of July, 1945.
His voice is steady, but the story is harrowing.
After delivering components for the atomic bombs, the ship was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine. Hundreds of his shipmates were killed ... not by the explosion, but by sharks.
Read more: Into the Jaws: Faith, Fear, and the Fight to Stay Afloat
Australia likes to pat itself on the back for being a model democracy. But there’s something deeply wrong about a system that punishes you for not voting. Worse still, that very system is dragging our politics into a swamp of apathy, bribery, and hollow promises.
Forcing Australians to vote is undemocratic and breeds political apathy.
It props up a broken system where major parties bribe disengaged voters.
Real debate is stifled, and genuine alternatives are crushed.
The media and institutions steer the public toward the same old choices.
Removing penalties for not voting could finally shake things up.
Read more: Children and Innocence - Bangles Beads and Broken Promises
While the new aces argue about the runway, the old crew still knows how to land a plane.
What if you could hold one single moment from your entire life, just one, to carry with you forever? Which one would it be? The answer may tell us more about who we are than any story we tell ourselves.
There’s a photograph in your mind, faded, perhaps, but alive...a moment from your past that never quite lets go. Maybe it’s the day you first rode a bike, the night you whispered secrets to a friend, or the first time you saw your newborn child. Why do these moments cling, while others vanish without a trace?
What moments shape us, and what will our children and grandchildren hold onto in a noisy world?
That is my question today. What memories are we leaving to our new generation? Lockdowns? Climate Change? Global Warming? Guilt? What have we allowed to happen?
Read more: The Flight of the Navigator - Old Pilots, New Aces, and Why Childhood Matters
When a lifetime isn’t enough to be believed
I know a person... in her older years. She has a smartphone. She knows how to use it, She tries to keep up with the modern world..even when it changes faster than her knees can carry her. She can type faster than me and while she is drop dead gorgeous in my eyes, you can tell she is not 18 anymore.
She’s not stubborn. She’s not lost in the past.She’s just… older.
And this week, standing at her front door, she was asked to prove how old she was. Yes, by a delivery driver from the local adult beverage shop...... with a bottle of Irish whiskey I had ordered for her. What happened next was shocking. Welcome to E- Australia...
Read more: Expired IDs, Expired Lives? What turns older People into In Valids?
By Roderick “Whiskers” McNibble, Editor-in-Cheese
It has been a busy week here in Dusty Gulch.
It all began with a report I filed a few days ago but held back from publishing due to rising duck-threat levels and escalating biscuit security.
But now, with the town in open uproar and the smell of conspiracy wafting stronger than Maude Elphinstone’s curried egg sandwiches, I can at last reveal the events that have shaken Dusty Gulch to its very poultry-plucked core:
Read more: DUCKS, DECEIT & DUSTY McFOOKIT: The Marmalade Coup
Before he was a U.S. Senator, Vice President, or bestselling author, J.D. Vance was just a kid in a holler in Middletown, Ohio - raised by his grandmother, shaped by chaos, yet grounded by a stubborn Appalachian pride. In Hillbilly Elegy, Vance wrote not just of poverty or politics, but of a cultural inheritance: the fierce loyalty, front porch wisdom, and the sounds that echoed through the hills and into his soul.
For many like him, Appalachian music wasn’t just background noise - it was the heartbeat of a people who had little, lost much, but clung fiercely to their identity. Carried across oceans from Ireland and Scotland, shaped by African, English, and frontier influences, this music tells a story that stretches from ancient highlands to the misty mountains of Kentucky, Tennessee, and beyond.
It is a story of survival. Of belonging. Of a people bruised but unbroken - still finding harmony amid hardship.
Read more: Music That Refuses to Be Forgotten: Grit, Ballads, and the Appalachian Soul
From the rat-hunters of age-old sailing ships to the black-cloaked Catalinas prowling the Pacific skies, cats have served the military with a quiet, enduring presence. Agile, alert, and unflinching under fire, they’ve been more than mascots - they’ve been symbols of readiness and resolve.
My favourite of them all flew under the callsign PBY: the mighty Catalina, a slow but unstoppable flying boat that saved lives, hunted submarines, and watched vast oceans with tireless eyes.
Whether curled on a warship’s deck or gliding through enemy skies on midnight raids, cats - furry or winged - have always stood ready to fight or fly. The question is… are we?
Read more: Some Cats Slumber While Others Hunt - Cats of War and Peace
Nation First explores how the Australian PM wants to remake the nation. And it’s not pretty!
Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese claims he was a moderate who “governs from the centre.”
But as Labor’s second-term plans unfold, it’s clear the agenda isn’t centrist. It’s extreme.
Labor is tightening the leash… on your money, your voice, your children, your choices, and your country.
This is an all-out offensive against common sense, personal liberty, and what little national pride Australia has got left.
Read more: Albo’s 2nd Term Agenda: What It Means For Australia
My Uncle was one of the first Jet boat captains in the world. I grew up around jetboats and my brothers went hunting up the shallow and rocky rivers where no other boat could go.
The Hamilton Jet Boat, an incredible bit of engineering kit, has transformed water travel and recreational boating. Known for its unique jet propulsion system, the Hamilton Jet Boat enabled voyages and explorations that were once deemed impossible.
The Hamilton Jet Boat traces its origins back to the 1950s in New Zealand, where Sir William Hamilton, an ingenious engineer and inventor, sought a solution to navigate the shallow and fast-flowing rivers of the South Island. Traditional propeller-driven boats faced limitations in such environments, often getting damaged or failing to provide adequate thrust.
Hamilton's breakthrough came with the development of the waterjet propulsion system. This system draws water from beneath the boat, accelerates it through an impeller, and expels it at high speed through a nozzle at the stern. This propulsion method allowed boats to operate in shallow waters and offered superior maneuverability.
In 1954, Hamilton launched the first successful jet boat, the "Jet 32," marking the beginning of a new era in boating. The Jet 32 demonstrated remarkable capabilities, such as the ability to navigate through rapids and over sandbars, making it a perfect fit for many of the world's most challenging rivers.
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