Word: swimming
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...final confrontation, the man throws the knife overboard and knocks the boy (who has protested that he can't swim)in after it. The lad disappears and the wife, convinced that he has drowned, berates her husband as a murderer and a coward. The man, beaten and scared, leaves the boat and swims for shore. From behind a buoy, where he has been hiding, the boy swims back to the boat and triumphantly seduces the wife...
...Pooped to Swim. Anyone who has ever hooked into a bonefish will never forget that moment. The first touch of steel sends Albula vulpes racing away in water-spraying terror, ripping off 100 yds. or more of line, straightening hooks, breaking swivels, or maybe snarling the whole shebang around a clump of mangroves. A little six-pounder can snap an 8-lb.-test line, and a big one takes all the luck an angler can muster. Recalls Golfer Sam Snead, who set a class record that still stands by catching a 15-pounder in 1953: "I was using live shrimp...
...with artificial lures ("More sporting, y'know"), once caught a 13-pounder on 6-lb.-test line-and releases practically every fish he lands. He even has a technique for reviving a fish that has fought so long and hard that it no longer has the strength to swim. Gently cradling the fish in one hand, he wiggles its tail until it comes around. "Artificial respiration," he explains...
Although Johnson has tried to get in a daily nap and a swim, he often gets so involved with his duties that he just forgets. The Panama crisis (see THE HEMISPHERE) kept him up till 3:30 one morning last week, and he was up again at 6:45 a.m. He turned in at 1:30 the following morning-and again got up before 7. The fatigue was noticeable in his face, but the President kept up his schedule. Chief on his list of visitors last week was Italy's slight, white-haired President Antonio Segni, 72. There were...
...really like to be a cold war spy? A deluge of fictional spy thrillers has done little to answer the question. Now along comes a one-time Eton schoolmaster, David Cornwell, 32, who some three years ago joined Her Majesty's Foreign Office "to get into the swim," and writing under an assumed name seems to have told all in one of the best spy stories ever written. Even if John le Carre's book isn't authentic, nobody except another certified spy can be sure; and it has the merit of sounding chillingly true. Following...