Panama Canal

This was my sixth crossing of the Panama Canal. My first transit was 20 years ago in 1993. That was on a 53 foot sailing boat on our way to Chile! Like all things it is good to have some experience, to know what to expect but the canal never fails to impress. It is awesome and it always feels like an epic adventure. The size of the locks and the massive ships that I usually spend my whole life trying to give as much space to as possible are shoulder to shoulder, passing within 20 meters rather than a mile or two.

The canal it self is due to celebrate it's 100th birthday in 2014 but even after 99 years they still need two men in a rowing boat to pass the lines that connect the ships to the towing mules. Each mule reportedly costing a staggering five million dollars each!

Moon lit nights are over

The passage through this part of the pacific has been beautiful and we have been treated to clear skies, calm weather and a growing moon.

Reflection from the bow on a clam day



Moonlit night almost as bright as day. 1 second shutter shows

Birds and Turtles

As we have sailed south on this passage, the season has changed. The endless blue horizon is the same but the latitudes have slowly slipped by and the tropical heat has joined us. We are enjoying calm seas, beautiful weather and moon lit nights. Yesterday a large pods of dolphins joined us for some time in the morning and we saw whales breaching as the afternoon turned to evening.

One thing that I had never seen before but seems to be very in fashion at the moment, is sea birds taking a rest on the back of turtles.. It is amazing, that rather than an occasional or even once in a life time sighting we have seen lots. I even managed to get a photo of one today!

Hula Girl

This little minx has been on the dash board here since Christmas of 2008 when she was given to me by one of the crew on my first visit to the Hawaiian islands. She has bobbled her way across a lot of ocean since then and has become a part of the furniture.
When we have new crew, they always pick her up to see if she has underwear on. She is not telling you..

Out at Sea

A few days ago, we left the dock slowly on a beautiful morning and slipped quietly out of the harbour through the wide buoyed channel. Dolphins playing in our bow even while we were still in the harbour and sea lions barking their farewell to us as we passed them sitting precariously on the marker buoys.

I really enjoy the beginning of a voyage and this was no exception to that. The bridge doors were open the crew busy tidying away lines and fenders and the boat and crew settling into the rhythm of a sea voyage. It is always helpful when the weather is bright and sunny and southern California had not let us down. I wrote in the log, the time that we passed the last marker buoy of the channel and set the course and speed, sipped my coffee and felt relaxed and calm, standing on the bridge wing and taking in the warmth of the morning sun and feeling the boat give in to the first swell of the Pacific ocean.

We will be at sea for 10 days and nights, 3000 miles ahead us.

Enthusiastic buying of flowers

I put down the phone and looked at my watch.  I had accepted an invitation for dinner that very evening. Ricky the charismatic, enthusiastic & internationally renowned painter of boats had invited me and a few of the crew to dinner. His team had been painting our boat a week or two ago and he was taking them out to thank them for their hard work. I like Ricky a lot and have worked with him a few times over the years but Sunday evening, I wasn’t really in the mood. In my mind an evening out with 10 or so Vietnamese guys, spells Karaoke. This is not one of my skills and being out on a semi-professional standing, meant that nowhere near enough alcoholic stimulant was going to be in me for this kind of a caper. Thinking on my feet I made my way to the crew mess, seeking out Noel a Philippines lad with excellent Karaoke talents and Wayne who is our token yank, when in the states you never know when you might need someone to explain the finer points of that culture to you. Fortunately they were keen to join me and so I was not alone when Ricky turned up in his rental car to pick us up.

In typical style we did not know what to expect, this simple evening out was actually a charity diner that was organized by the Vietnamese community to raise money for blind kids in Vietnam, 300 plus Vietnamese people from within the San Diego community plus one Pilipino, an American and an excited bloke from the UK. Our host had booked several tables for his workers, their families and his own  friends, family and business  associates.

The belly dancer was hypnotic, the Vietnamese Elvis was hilarious, the music was random and I didn’t understand a word of what was going on. The colours were vibrant, the food incredible, the kindness and generosity of this community was staggering and I didn’t have to sing Karaoke.

The buying of flowers had started slowly by the young guys at our table, who were stashing them and waiting for the opportunity to give them to their favourite performer. Obviously buying raffle tickets and flowers helped the cause and soon we were buying flowers to give to all of the entertainers. Ricky our host caught on and started stealing the flowers from our table and giving them back to the vendors to re sell again. The enthusiastic buying and giving of flowers continued until the entertainment finished and our wallets were empty.

I left feeling inspired by these lovely people and with no money left in my wallet but as I sit and reflect on this event, I am thankful for the continued opportunity to expand my friends across cultures and for the random meeting of amazing people and the interesting situations that I meet them in.

Leaving for work

When I started writing here I made a conscious decision not to write about my emotions or in detail about my family. There are plenty of fathers blogging about their kids and it is amazing to see our little guy grow, so it does seem a shame sometimes not to share some of the incredible humour that he comes out with but that is another story for a more private place.

Work is enjoyable and challenging and so I like the job and the adventure of it. Lately it has been getting harder and harder to leave my family, to fly across the planet and join the boat. This time my heart was smashed into little pieces. Smiling faces on Skype reassure me though and I get to say hi most days and as work is busy, my mind is occupied and so the time when I get to go back to see them again will come round fast.

On an early morning run along the waterfront I ran round the park and remembered this huge sculpture of a sailor kissing his girlfriend. Claire and I stood under it for a photo a few years back. The statue was a happy reminder of that weekend, I had a pang of sadness for all of the goodbyes we have had since. On the flip side of course, the sculpture is actually a  reunion. 

Signs that it is time to go back to work

One of the drawbacks to working away is that leaving home after an extended period is very hard. It is like Sunday evening to the power of 10 recurring or something. One of the first admissions to self, that it is time to go back to work is that I go to the Kayak club and retrieve my surf boat and my gear and put it away in my garage. The sad truth is that on this stint at home I didn't really manage to get out much and use it but writing this now is making me want to plan a small surf trip for the summer.

Bivouac

Bivouac..noun, a temporary camp without tents or cover used usually by soldiers or mountaineers (or on occasion by a few slightly over refreshed inhabitants of Sussex)

Friday, February 22nd was another classic cold British day and I had been eagerly anticipating the date because it was Bivi night. There is a small group of people I know, that belong to a loose kind of a club called, the Brighton Bivi Club, once a month they set a date to bivouac in the South Downs National Park. I am not usually able to attend and a last minute change of date made it look unlikely for me this time round. However, always keen for adventure my friend Dai agreed to join me and so on that freezing cold evening I met him at his home.

People will either get it or they will not, we don't care. Walking out in the dark, cold snow filled evening we set out across the hills, familiar trails from our long runs in the area, friends chatting and walking, wrapped up in layers against the bitter chill of the winters evening.
The walk, the pub, the sleeping out in the hills amongst the elements is just a glorified sleepover/mid night feast, for grown ups but it is a small way that we can enjoy the adventure and freedom of the outdoors in our busy lives.

After just four miles of walking in the freezing cold the warm ambiance of a village pub, complete with roaring open fires was a little too much warmth. Shedding layers and finding a spot in comfortable old couches by the fire, we settled in for our first pint of local beer. After consuming one beer for each mile walked we decided that it was time to head back out onto the hill to find the spot that we would use for the night's Bivi.

I have some years of experience in the art of bivi'ing out with Dai and not all of them have been good experiences. Some have been absolute classic successes and others, epic fails. My favourite was an Alpine spot we chose, high above the Chamonix valley in France on a beautiful clear summers night, I won't bore you with the epic fails. They are stories in their own right. The point is, if Dai is left to choose the sport on his own the adventure could go either way..He probably feels the same about me.

We headed off up the hill, out of sight from the village and near to a wooded area. If there was a book about it, it would suggest a flat sheltered place, I am also sure that my good friend would have read the book about it. This particular place had one of the two essentials. It was sheltered from the biting wind, Tick. It was not however that flat but now we were full of Harvey's best beer we were keen to set up camp and light a fire.  The area did have lots of wood for the said fire and soon we had set up a temporary shelter with a basher, (a small tarpaulin) tied between trees and a fence and While i quickly set about making a bew of hot chocolate on my stove I left Dai to fire making.

Comedy is not always obvious but now I come to write about it I am laughing. I have spent years doing random outdoor sports and events along with Dai. He has a preferred method for fire lighting which includes using a tampon. Yes! He always carries them just in case. A neat plastic wrapped, tightly packed, bullet of feminine hygiene product is apparently the perfect kindling for the part time adventurer. My hat is off though because by the time my Jet Boil stove started to hiss, his blowing through cupped hands and then frantic flapping of hands had produced a small fire with the interesting technique that he champions.

Tucked up in more duck down and synthetic gear than you can imagine we broke out the rum, French cheese and bread, fruit cake and sat by our fire under our shelter in the light flurry of snow and we were happier for it.

We had Just got settled and Dai piped up that he was not happy with the shelter. Heaven knows why, I was the one compromised by the most slope and was only just benefiting from the poorly rigged material. He was determined and I went along with the beer and rum fuelled decision. After quite a bit of tinkering and pulling and tying of string he was happy. "that is the taught method" he proudly exclaimed. I told you he had read the book. It wasn't really any different and I was still left mostly without shelter but we slept well and after a cup of tea in the morning and a lovely walk back over the hill the adventure was complete in time to join in with our family lives as if we had not been away.

Sometimes a small adventure close to home is much better than no adventure at all.

A Travelling Wilbury sleeping out in the Alps August 2010