Sailing languidly through the sims of SL on the other hand, allows people to actually take time to look around, and spend time visually exploring their surroundings. They are part of the environment, submerged in it, instead of hovering hundreds of meters up and looking at it from afar.
One of the dreams I have is of exploring little islands in a yacht, doing my research on native species while I sail serenely from one unexplored tropical lagoon to another. In SL I have the chance to do that, though obviously the SL experience is quite lacking compared to real life.
Nevertheless, the thrill of discovering something that I had never seen before, of finding something beautiful and fascinating in the morass of everyday things, can be just as deep and fulfilling. Call the SL experience a practice run, a harbinger of hopefully things to come in RL.
In SL of course people can TP and fly and do all sorts of things that we normally can't. But in some ways I think this detracts from the thrill of discovery. Flying over diverse landscapes and TPing from place to place creates a fast pace of life that may cause one to lose sight of little things in the environment that should not have been missed.
Sailing languidly through the sims of SL on the other hand, allows people to actually take time to look around, and spend time visually exploring their surroundings. They are part of the environment, submerged in it, instead of hovering hundreds of meters up and looking at it from afar. This makes sailing one of the best ways of seeing SL, in my opinion, and once in awhile I'd like to show people some of the places I visited while sailing the seas of Second Life.
The little island of Barbarossa sits by itself on the western part of the Blake Sea, just across from the Nautilus Continent of the Linden mainlands. It is the gateway to the Nautilus continent, one of the Linden mainlands.
The island itself is quite small, but with a lighthouse, beach chairs and outhouses, and some moors for the occasional seaplane and ships.
I had been sailing west and had stopped by the island for a rest stop, and happened to notice in the distance the outlines of a massive structure.
Intrigued, I set sail westwards towards it, passing by one of the coast guard vessels that patrolled the area for miscreants.
As I came closer I realized it was a massive tower, decorated with silver dolphins along its many decks and fronted by a golden statue from which spouted fountains of iridescent water.
In front of the gargantuan structure were plaques that commemorated the builders of the surrounding area.