Hollow Earth: Agartha - Complete! II. Byrd's Diary (February - March 1. I must write this diary in secrecy and obscurity. It concerns my Arctic flight of the nineteenth day of February in the year of Nineteen and Forty- Seven. Hours - All preparations are complete for our flight northward and we are airborne with full fuel tanks at 0. Hours. 0. 6. 2. 0 Hours - fuel mixture on starboard engine seems too rich, adjustment made and Pratt Whittneys are running smoothly. Hours - Radio Check with base camp. All is well and radio reception is normal. Hours - Note slight oil leak in starboard engine, oil pressure indicator seems normal, however. Hours - Slight turbulence noted from easterly direction at altitude of 2. Hours- Radio Check with base camp, situation normal. Hours - Turbulence encountered again, increase altitude to 2. Hours - Vast Ice and snow below, note coloration of yellowish nature, and disperse in a linear pattern. Altering course for a better examination of this color pattern below, note reddish or purple color also. Circle this area two full turns and return to assigned compass heading. Position check made again to Base Camp, and relay information concerning colorations in the Ice and snow below. Hours - Both Magnetic and Gyro compasses beginning to gyrate and wobble, we are unable to hold our heading by instrumentation. Take bearing with Sun compass, yet all seems well. The controls are seemingly slow to respond and have sluggish quality, but there is no indication of Icing! Hours - In the distance is what appears to be mountains. Hours - 2. 9 minutes elapsed flight time from the first sighting of the mountains, it is no illusion. They are mountains and consisting of a small range that I have never seen before! Hours - Altitude change to 2. Hours - Encountering more rolling green hills now. The external temperature indicator reads 7. Fahrenheit! Continuing on our heading now. Navigation instruments seem normal now. I am puzzled over their actions. Attempt to contact Base Camp. Radio is not functioning! They are close enough now to see the markings on them. It is a type of Swastika!!! I tug at the controls again. They will not respond!!!! We are caught in an invisible vice grip of some type!
![]() ![]() EXPEDITION & EXPEDITION EL Specs. 2Always wear your safety belt and secure children in the rear seat. The 2011 Ford Expedition is ranked #7 in 2011 Affordable Large SUVs by U.S. The Suburban offers interior space that rivals the long-wheelbase Expedition EL. Hours - Another radio message received. We begin the landing process now, and in moments the plane shudders slightly, and begins a descent as though caught in some great unseen elevator! The downward motion is negligible, and we touch down with only a slight jolt!“We have let you enter here because you are of noble character and well- known on the Surface World, Admiral.” The Master's eyes seemed to penetrate deeply into my mind, and after studying me for a few moments he replied, “Your race has now reached the point of no return, for there are those among you who would destroy your very World rather than relinquish their power as they know it..”“No,” I answer, “it happened once before, the Dark Ages came and they lasted for more than five hundred years.” With these closing words, our meeting seemed at an end. I stood for a moment as in a deam.. I knew this was reality, and for some strange reason I bowed slightly, either out of respect or humility, I do not know which. ![]() ![]() ![]() Revware is a leading metrology software and equipment manufacturer Civil Engineering Applications for the use of consulting engineers, structural designers, and architects. Find listings of daytime and primetime ABC TV shows, movies and specials. Get links to your favorite show pages. ![]() I said nothing. All of this was almost beyond belief, and once again my thoughts were interrupted as we stopped. I entered the room and was again with my Radioman. He had an anxious expression on his face. As I approached, I said, “It is all right, Howie, it is all right.” 2. Hours - A radio message comes through. Auf Wiedersehen!!!”We watched for a moment as the flugelrads disappeared into the pale blue sky. The aircraft suddenly felt as though caught in a sharp downdraft for a moment. We quickly recovered the control. We do not speak for some time, each man has his thoughts.. Hours - We are again over vast areas of ice and snow, and approximately 2. Base Camp. We radio them, they respond. We report all conditions normal.. Base Camp expresses relief at our re- established contact. Hours - We land smoothly at Base Camp. I have a mission... These last few years elapsed since 1. I now make my final entry in this singular diary. In closing, I must state that I have faithfully kept this matter secret as directed all these years. It has been completely against my values of moral right. Now, I seem to sense the long night coming on and this secret will not die with me, but as all truth shall, it will triumph and so it shall. Admiral Richard E. Olaf Jansen's Amazing Story. My name is Olaf Jansen. I am a Norwegian, although I was born in the little seafaring Russian town of Uleaborg, on the Eastern coast of the Gulf of Bothnia, the Northern arm of the Baltic Sea. My parents were on a fishing cruise in the Gulf of Bothnia, and put into this Russian town of Uleaborg at the time of my birth, being the twenty- seventh day of October, 1. My Father, Jens Jansen, was born at Rodwig on the Scandinavian coast, near the Lofoden Islands, but after marrying made his home at Stockholm, because my mother's people resided in that city. When seven years old, I began going with my Father on his fishing trips along the Scandinavian coast. Early in life I displayed an aptitude for books, and at the age of nine years was placed in a private school in Stockholm, remaining there until I was fourteen. After this I made regular trips with my Father on all his fishing voyages. My Father was a man fully six feet three in height, and weighed over fifteen stone . He possessed the gentleness of a woman in tender little ways, yet his determination and will- power were beyond description. His will admitted of no defeat. I was in my nineteenth year when we started on what proved to be our last trip as fishermen, and which resulted in the strange story that shall be given to the world - but not until I have finished my Earthly pilgrimage. I dare not allow the facts as I know them to be published while I am living, for fear of further humiliation, confinement and suffering. First of all, I was put in irons by the Captain of the whaling vessel that rescued me, for no other reason than that I told the truth about the marvelous discoveries made by my father and myself. But this was far from being the end of my tortures. After four years and eight months' absence I reached Stockholm, only to find my Mother had died the previous year, and the property left by my parents in the possession of my Mother's people, but it was at once made over to me. All might have been well, had I erased from my memory the story of our adventure and of my Father's terrible death. Finally, one day I told the story in detail to my Uncle, Gustaf Osterlind, a man of considerable property, and urged him to fit out an expedition for me to make another voyage to the strangeland. At first I thought he favored my project. He seemed interested, and invited me to go before certain officials and explain to them, as I had to him, the story of our travels and discoveries. Imagine my disappointment and horror when, upon the conclusion of my narrative, certain papers were signed by my Uncle, and, without warning, I found myself arrested and hurried away to dismal and fearful confinement in a madhouse, where I remained for twenty- eight years - long, tedious, frightful years of suffering! I never ceased to assert my sanity, and to protest against the injustice of my confinement. Finally, on the seventeenth of October, 1. I was released. My Uncle was dead, and the friends of my youth were now strangers. Indeed, a man over fifty years old, whose only known record is that of a madman, has no friends. I was at a loss to know what to do for a living, but instinctively turned toward the harbor where fishing boats in great numbers were anchored, and within a week I had shipped with a fisherman by the name of Yan Hansen, who was starting on a long fishing cruise to the Lofoden Islands. Here my earlier years of training proved of the very greatest advantage, especially in enabling me to make myself useful. This was but the beginning of other trips, and by frugal economy I was, in a few years, able to own a fishing- brig of my own. For twenty- seven years thereafter I followed the sea as a fisherman, five years working for others, and the last twenty- two for myself. During all these years I was a most diligent student of books, as well as a hard worker at my business, but I took great care not to mention to anyone the story concerning the discoveries made by my Father and myself. Even at this late day I would be fearful of having any one see or know the things I am writing, and the records and maps I have in my keeping. When my days on Earth are finished, I shall leave maps and records that will enlighten and, I hope, benefit Mankind. The memory of my long confinement with maniacs, and all the horrible anguish and sufferings are too vivid to warrant my taking further chances. In 1. 88. 9 I sold out my fishing boats, and found I had accumulated a fortune quite sufficient to keep me the remainder of my life. I then came to America. For a dozen years my home was in Illinois, near Batavia, where I gathered most of the books in my present library, though I brought many choice volumes from Stockholm. Later, I came to Los Angeles, arriving here March 4, 1. The date I well remember, as it was President Mc. Kinley's second inauguration day. I bought this humble home and determined, here in the privacy of my own abode, sheltered by my own vine and fig- tree, and with my books about me, to make maps and drawings of the new lands we had discovered, and also to write the story in detail from the time my Father and I left Stockholm until the tragic event that parted us in the Antarctic Ocean. I well remember that we left Stockholm in our fishing- sloop on the third day of April, 1. Gothland Island to the left and Oeland Island to the right. A few days later we succeeded in doubling Sandhommar Point, and made our way through the sound which separates Denmark from the Scandinavian coast.
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