I made certain not to upset the gods on a visit to Skull Island.
Unusually for me, I have not got a clue what has been happening in the world over the past seven days.
I have been in an almost primitive, pre-internet state without an ever-present connection to the modern world and it is a strange way to be.
When you are travelling you will have the occasional web dropout, but usually that is no more than the length of a plane journey plus time going through airport security (where they tend to frown upon folk making phone calls or using mobile devices).
Where I was, in the Western Province of the Solomon Islands, internet links - if you can get them - can be unstable, or not readily convenient.
Wireless connections are usually limited to hotels, or the lounge bars of the various resorts, and when you are out and about in a stunningly beautiful, but very hot, environment, the first thing you want in the lounge bar is not the internet but an ice-cold beer. Followed quickly by a second ice-cold beer.
Catching up on emails is a necessary evil but, as for anything else, it is too much to bother with.
I did have power, showers and - thank God - airconditioning and ceiling fans.
Air-con was a lifesaver in mid-30s temperatures where the humidity was an energy draining million per cent and without the cool - either by chilled air or fan - sleep would have been impossible.
Anyway, while I did sort of miss world news, it was far less than I thought and the only time I really turned on my computer was to upload photographs after a day's adventuring.
Instead I spent a lot of time in fibreglass longboats, as you tend to do around the Western Province. Boat travel is pretty much the only way to get from one place to another and it provides you with the opportunity to decompress from the stresses of modern life and appreciate more important things - such as the beauty of nature and talking with people.
I think our busy, modern, net-based lifestyles have robbed us of those things and we are the poorer for it.
Even when you live on a beautiful beach, such as Papamoa, you always have something going on in the back of your mind that doesn't allow full relaxation mode to kick in. I guess it is a First World curse.
It could be the noise pollution that is very hard to escape in the Western world, or the non-stop visual information we are bombarded with in the form of road signs and advertising.
Even on Papamoa Beach the distant traffic noise can interrupt your relaxation.
Out on a longboat off the small town of Munda the only thing you hear, once the motor has stopped, is ... nothing. Every now and then the silence will be broken by the gentle slap of a wave on the boat, or the plop of a fish, but the tranquillity is to be treasured.
I went out on a dolphin calling expedition on Roviana Lagoon near Rendova Island and it was a voyage to be delighted in. The glow of dawn over palm-covered islets, the peacefulness of calm lagoon waters, turning the engines off through a very, very shallow channel in a reef between two islands and then floating on a glassy sea.
These guys did manage to summon dolphins but, unfortunately for us, they were in the distance. Still, it was a splendid morning on the water.
On another excursion, out from the gorgeous island resort of Zipolo Habu, I did cast my hand, so to speak, at fishing.
Now to set the scene here we had just been out to Skull Island where, not that many years ago, it was tapu to visit without a reason. Some of those reasons were to deliver a chief's head to its final resting place in a small, triangular wooden temple, or the heads of enemy warriors who had fallen in battle.
My guides were cautious and somewhat uneasy and I was respectful of the site. I make it a point of never annoying any gods while travelling in a small open boat. Although I can swim, my cameras cannot, and I don't want to think any more about that sort of scenario.
Anyway, the area we were in had been without rain for some time and as we left the island one of the guys asked the sea god for successful fishing on the way back to Zipolo Habu.
Good luck with that, I thought, I am the world's worst fisherman and if I am on board nothing will come over the side of the boat.
One of the other gods must have been listening as we had just got on board when the skies opened and it fair pelted down.
So there we were, three drowned rats with orders to catch some fish for dinner. A simple task in a lagoon filled with fish, you may think, but not with Jonah Moore handling a rod.
Then I thought I should give myself a break. You just never know I told myself ... maybe under local instruction my luck will change.
It started well as my previously unknown casting skill dropped the lure right into the middle of a passing procession of butterfly fish. But that's about where the skills stopped as even my experienced rodmen failed to snag a piscinary beastie despite almost perfect casting.
No matter, it was a fun and laughter filled hour or so.
And that is what my past week has been about.
Without the world wide web and its call upon my time and attention I have been able to be part of a lifestyle that is simple, yet stunning.
I discovered my own www - the Wonderful Webless World.