The Sound of Silence The best way to experience Halong is in the water, rowing a kayak. The peaceful beauty envelopes you and words escape you. The only sounds you can hear are the soft splashes of your paddle piercing the stillness of the water. The kayaks are able to nestle in close to the karsts. I wondered why I hadn't seen any rock climbing with nothing but rock formations surrounding us. Then when we got within arms distance and were able to touch them, I understoond. The wind and salt water had worn the surface jagged to the touch. The sharp edges were hard to grip and felt fragile with pressure. That explains the lack of rock climbing. I also started to notice that wile most karsts had verticle grain lines in the limestone, some were slanted to one side or the other. These gigantic rockes where slowly being worn down at the water line, the salt and force of the tide waters corroding the very bottom of the limestone itself. The karsts were beging widdled down so they look like they're almost balancing on pedastles, until finally, they start to topple over into the waters. These fallen soldiers are the ones whose limestone grain is no longer verticle. In many places in the bay, only a small kayak or fishing boat can fit through the caves. Inside the stelagtites and stelagmites from a picture frame around the scenery exposed on the other side of the tunnel. During storms and typhoons, the local fishermen bring their families through these caves seeking the shelter of a completely protected lagoon. Emerging on the back side of the cave, I find myself drifting into a large lagoon. As I lift my paddle , not a sound can be heard. Absolute silence. I've never heard such a loud noise in all my life. Even my own breath seemed to break the silence. It was the most deafening sound I have every heard. And certainly th most memorable. It made me realize exactly how small I am in this great big world.