Travelling without moving

So much for the space in-between

2010-08-17T10:18:00.004+12:00

I was meant to be moving house, as in my web domain. I thought they were kicking me out of blogger.com. Apparently not. Good thing really; I have been as remiss in my blog maintenance as I have in much of the rest of my life. Other things I should have done include (but are not restricted to) filing a tax return, completing my residency application, putting the broken fridge somewhere else....and so it goes.

I have been putting my energy into Langford Ink and Fish Forever (campaigning for marine sanctuaries in the Bay of Islands) and that has left very little for anything else, except the odd blow out party that simultaneously rejuvenates and depresses. In the past couple of months I have existed in a state of mild perplexity interpersed with flurries of activity followed with moments of sheer exhaustion. I think the word "moderation" should apply somewhere. The expression "all or nothing" resounds the blog halls of freelancers/startups/sole operators. "All" is seductive, exciting, productive. "Nothing" is confused, frustrating and smarts with a sense of failure. We are the bipolar of the business world.

There must be some interstitial space; somewhere more moderate to exist. If anyone cares to tell me how to find this in-between space, I'd be grateful.

The Last Post

2010-04-30T19:59:00.005+12:00

Blogspot have told me to move. They won't host my blog anymore. I'm being evicted.

Whoop whoop!

I'm forced to buy a new domain. I am maneuvered into a position where I have to start all over again. It's chance for a revamp. This time I might do it a bit better, especially now that I know at least one thing about the concept of blogging (stage whisper: you're meant to have a Purpose).

Maybe this time I'll also find an audience. I might even capture them and then I'll have lots of friends who'll look at my photos and read my words and think nice thoughts about me.

Yeah right, said Tui.

I'm not an especially refined blogger. But I don't care too much about that at the moment because all I can think about right now is that I have to buy a domain which means (drum roll) that I can have a new name. Hurrah for small pleasures.

Fun Naming Project got me thinking about what my blog is about. This then made me wonder whether it has one of those purpose thingies. Of course it has a purpose, even if that purpose is selfish and exclusive i.e. safe place (no audience, remember) for me to air my purpose-lacking ideas.

Does it have any wider relevance? Will it bring any of YOU value? (Yes you out there! Anyone? Hullooo...? Hmm, thought not).

I've decided that my blog does have a purpose. Its raison d'etre is to find a small spot of beauty in the everyday, whether in a word, an image, an idea, a stunning equation or...or...well, whatever really, even a splodge of chewing gum on a drain cover that looks like Marge Simpson if that's what rocks my boat that day.

The purpose for me is to make it my daily mission to be receptive to the unexpected, the un-thought-of and to find freshness in the mundane. I want to keep my brain wired with all the synapses as synaptic as they were when I was ten. I don't want tired, grumpy neural pathways, trodden down by the daily footfall, always the same way, same angle, same time.

My friend Miriam recently told me you should try and do daily tasks a little bit differently too - at least one a day; say, brush your teeth with your other hand, or shower in the dark. Apparently it activates different neurones, surprising your brain into exercise mode. The new elixir of youth! No more baby placentas for me.

I found a name. I've booked www.thespaceinbetween.com as I think this is the kind of place where you might find those treats that make our mortal world more bearable. It reminds me of the letter I wrote to the tooth fairies when I was little asking where I could find them. They answered that I would find them at the end of the rainbow. I searched for years. In a way, I'm still searching.

Tom's snapper

2010-03-08T14:30:00.003+13:00

An English guy called Tom is staying at the Pickled Parrot. He's been a bit depressed. He went fishing off the wharf at Paihia to cheer himself up on a rainy Saturday morning. To everyone's disbelief he caught a beauty snapper. He was then a bit sad because he really needed a good photo and his cousin had trodden on his camera so the view finder didn't work. How could I say no?

Sunday morning sailing

2010-03-08T14:15:00.001+13:00

Learn to Sail March 2010

There's a Dr Seuss tree in my garden

2010-03-03T08:55:00.003+13:00

The upshot of having a fancy camera is that I want to go out at night and take sultry pictures of the moon. I've since discovered I need to spend more money to get a tripod (vintage alto saxophone or camera tripod? hmm, I think I can live with shakey night shots or restrict photography exploits to daytime). Anyway, on my way home from a night time mission to see how the moon looked on the waves, I encountered this Dr Seuss tree in my garden. Actually, Pete - my humble assistant - spotted it; he is a primary school relief teacher afterall, so it's his job to know what Dr Seuss trees look like. Oh and the vintage alto sax? That's a story for another day...

It's the nature of things.

2010-02-19T16:21:00.003+13:00

She's not what you thought
as you sought her to be

not the readable script
but a tapestry
of symbols
and colour
a muddle of signs
tea leaves or dreamscapes
wine stains and anger
of tears
and giggles
and things in between
that can't be touched or written or sighed
just caught in the atoms

the chaos of life.

Can't complain...

2010-02-15T21:14:00.000+13:00

Summer in Northland

Willingness and courage

2010-01-07T15:47:00.015+13:00

I'm stopping. I'm not doing anything anymore, ever again. Well, for the next hour perhaps. I am exhausted. EX-hausted. Molly is too, but I'm not sure what her excuse is...

My present circumstances in no particular order:

Molly: she's been a temporary feature of our house and garden for a week or so now because her mum and dad, Sam and Marg, have had a real life human baby. Molly was their baby before and so is a little confused by this apparent rejection (they still love you Molly, they do, but they're a little busy right now), but once she found her place under this fern in a pile of dust, she decided that life on a patch of concrete with Pete and Catherine might be bearable after all. She doesn't really understand that her baby status is in jeopardy. We're breaking it to her gently before her return to Opua. Her chief skills are dragging creeper vines through the house, lying in oil patches, swimming in the sea and shouting.

Camera: I just bought a new camera. Most excited
I've felt since standing on top of Ruapehu on a bluebird day with fresh slopes peeling away below me. It's a Canon Powershot S5 IS with digital SLR 'features' - a step up from my 3yr old point and shoot fuji finepix to a slightly pointier and shootier version for the advanced beginner (is that the same as amateur?). Actually, my Wellington photos (eyes down) were taken with this very model borrowed from my partner's sister visiting from Jakarta. She really IS a photographer and if it's good enough for her 2nd camera, it's good enough for me. N.B. camera in transit, these photos courtesy of the old finepix.

Baby: aforementioned baby is really very cool. He shall remain nameless for the time being but he has a funky hairstyle and wriggles a lot. No, he's not mine (see above).

Tomatoes: How can they drink so much?

Houseboat: We sold it!

Tin Shack: Artfully named by my father, my new house is indeed clad with wriggly tin. This isn't uncommon in New Zealand. Quite the norm in fact. And it looks like a real house on the inside. Most visitors have shown outright surprise that we might live in such a normal place. That's Pete's reputation, not mine, surely. Apart from my office being the bedroom and vice versa. And the creeper that grows in the cupboard. And the cockroaches. And spiders. Apart from all that, it's really rather nice.

Langford Ink: is just dandy. Not profitable, but dandy nonetheless. Consequence of lack of profitability means that Langford Ink is also providing a physio receptionist service at special rates in order to allow grocery purchase. Langford Ink has a charming array of clients though, and is excited about being in its fifth month of operation and is very much enjoying the support of some awesome local businesses.

Christmas in Wellington: ...was busy. Pete has a large family. Fortunately they're also a warm and generous family so not a squeak of complaint from me other than a shiver at the temperature plummet.

Life: I am losing myself in new jobs, technology, systems, clients and need for money; kids sailing and volunteer community work; sunshine, friends, dogs. I haven't written anything creative for months, since we moved to the tin shack. That makes me feel neglectful. I am tired but happy. When there's a spare moment I sail, surf, swim. I share wine and dancw with my friends, I walk the beach. I can't imagine being anywhere other than precisely where I am doing exactly what I am doing; whether that's due to the absolute rightness of this space or simply lack of energy to do anything else, I'm unsure. Right now I'm going to put down my computer, pick up The Listener, pretend to read for five minutes and then sleep until the sun dips behind the bush-covered hills.

2009-12-30T13:33:00.001+13:00

Wellington Delights

2009-12-30T13:24:00.001+13:00

Wellington, Christmas 2009

An official place

2009-11-23T16:03:00.004+13:00

Langford Ink now has a dedicated domain so visit me here!

Life as an independent is suiting me well. Shame I have expensive taste in wine. I learnt early on in my life in the Bay of Islands that this place is not really about one career, one job, one focus. It's all about fingers in pies; the more you can gather around you the better! Especially if you like a nice red.

Taste Bay of Islands

2009-10-07T11:01:00.001+13:00

Easily the most enjoyable way to spend a lazy Saturday. Anyone else?

HOUSEBOAT FOR SALE

2009-10-06T10:56:00.000+13:00

Another day in paradise?

Either I've lived on the water long enough or I've spent too long a winter ashore. Whichever way, I'm now a landlubber. Our baby Jah/Jar is for sale so that I can get a little home-office on land. Pass it on to anyone you think wants a shot at the alternative watery lifestyle in the paradise that is the Bay of Islands.

Find out more details here

Langford Ink is here.

2009-09-14T15:55:00.006+12:00

Temporarily the Langford Ink website is being hosted here. It's my own blog...you can read my story if you check out the archives. Soon Langford Ink will be hosted at www.langfordink.com. Watch this space and get redirected there when it's ready.

So is a blog the right place to have a company website? Good question. The immediate answer is probably 'no' but I'm game to experiment. Recently I've been encouraging some of my clients to look at the potential of blogging websites where they can engage more directly with their audience. Personally I've enjoyed and learned a great deal from the blog components on other business websites: web design, graphic design, marketing consultancy - I love being able to tap into the experiences of other professionals. For one thing, a blog site brings a human element to the business transaction; it shows there's a real-life person behind the brand who really cares about the service they provide.

Langford Ink is nothing if not human. My aim is to dismantle the corporate speak that so often drowns the concept of marketing. Really, marketing is just about showing your best angle to the right people, whilst highlighting what makes you different. There's no reason why we have to dress it up in fancy clothes.

For those small businesses who are new to marketing, I help strip away the fear often experienced when embarking on promotional activities. This 'fear' can obstruct you from finding tailored marketing solutions so that you risk settling for second best. I will guide you toward a professional solution within your budget, with some gentle education along the way.

For those who are experienced in marketing but time poor and perhaps wary of overspend in this area, I offer a sensible, down-to-earth marketing service. No jargon, I promise. First of all, I listen to you. You know your business better than I do. You might just need an objective viewpoint to get you started. And you you might find that having someone trustworthy and external to the business is exactly what you need to help your business grow.

I provide general marketing management, from consultancy and planning to day-to-day administration. I organise good graphic design, full branding programmes, signwriting and web solutions. I offer print management and copywriting. I give fair quotes and I'm realistic about budgets and timescale. I deal direct with associated marketing and promotional contacts to make sure my client is getting the best deal.

I don't know all the answers, but I always know where to look.

absent minds are not the recipe for rich lives.

2009-03-20T11:16:00.005+13:00

A man gets into a cab at the airport, but he isn't certain where he's going. He just disembarked a flight from Italy, landing back in his home country as before.

As before.

As the cab draws up, he realises there isn't an as before; the "as before" he knew can't happen now. However, what should or could happen instead is equally obscure. All he knows is that he can't go back.

It is less what actually happened whilst he wandered the foreign streets, with unknown languages blistering across sun-soaked alleys. It is more that while he walked he found himself staring at the face of time, almost holding it in his hands. The intimacy astonished him. Time had become frighteningly present; no way to lose it or be distracted from it.

As the hot Ligurian days passed by in a slumber, a lightness replaced the gaping horror and with lightness, the suggestion of possibility; possibility that he didn't have to be the way he was before. It seemed that only absent mindedness had kept him there for so long.

"Facebook is becomming a bit low rent" (Discuss)

2009-03-13T12:28:00.007+13:00

So says Stephen Fry, even though he concedes that online snobbery is absurd. And snobbery only in the UK of course (if the dub dub dub can be country-specific, that is, as not everyone is quite so obsessed by class).

Jury's out for me on Facebook; neither love nor loathe but can't help checking it with ridiculous regularity. I've just learnt how to attach my blog to my facebook page (this bit of technical widgery pokery has taken me a year or so to figure out). I am also learning how to delete friends that aren't really friends. This has also taken a lot longer than it would in real life, because in real life I am blunt and unpleasant sometimes, which is perfect deterrent for unwanted befriending. Hard to cultivate a blunt online persona apparently. Or not? Interestingly, I realise that I'm not online friends (there's another more with it expression for an online friend isn't there?) with some of my very truest bestest real world friends, which is reinforcing my sense that it's all a bit of a farce. Still, I like noseying in on my friends' and associates' business back in the UK while they were sleeping from my 13hr-ahead vantage point. And for a while I liked trying to think of quirky oneliners that might elicit a shes-so-clever smile from my pals; but I soon found I was bored of reading other people's quirky oneliners and that I should probably save myself the bother of dreaming them up.

So, it's not low rent, it's just old news. And that's the internet for you I suppose. My blog's old news - ex-colleagues looked at it for relief from their cavernous dungeon in Farringdon for a couple of months, just to see where in the world I was. Now that I really have stopped moving, I'm just another worker bee trying to find a moment of individuality in a samey world. Sadly, if Facebook or a google blog is the place to display our quirky one-offness, then all our moments of creativity are a bit samey too.

Same old shit, different hemisphere

2009-02-25T15:54:00.001+13:00

Holy cow, no specs AND a man

2009-02-20T14:13:00.001+13:00

Straight from the tin

2009-02-20T13:25:00.003+13:00

I'm eating tuna (lemon and ginger flavour) straight from the tin. Gross. It's a cute mini size can with a ring-pull top and now that I'm over the sensation of eating cat food, it tastes rebellious and rather nice. Cuppa soup coming up. Yes, seriously. A subtropical front is blowing through at 100 miles an hour and while temperatures may be in the low 20s, it feels cold. Soup called for.

Today in the Bay: Jeff, our printer, has been stabbed in the thigh by a marlin; flights to London in July cost over $2700; only English people park their boats in bumpy places during storms (idiots); I am experiencing the return of the dreadlocks; tomorrow morning it is Mia's birthday party (she turns 3) with about 11 children and I am looking forward to it.

Wonders never cease, apparently.

Oh, and it'll take more than a bit of wind and rain for them to cancel racing tonight...hell yes, sailing will be ON. Damn damn damn.

Boat bottoms

2009-02-02T17:45:00.002+13:00

Should be dated Jan 11th 2009. Undine, Valdora and the Jar in Matauwhi (matarfi) Bay. Tall Ships. We won the biggest bottle of rum in the world. Spot prize, nothing to do with our sailing.

Whangaroa Race, AGAIN.

2009-02-02T17:19:00.007+13:00

I am chronologically challenged. And I'm also in shock. This is the second Whangaroa race I have particpated in. This is the second time I have travelled up the coast in Sarrie with an all female crew with the inimitable Antje skippering. That's a milestone, a yearstone, a gemstone or just a piece of pumice gradually wearing away quietly whispering "there's no place like home, there's no place like home..." ?

It was hot and there was no wind. As we were in the cruising divisions, we were entitled to motor for two hours during the 35m (or 45m?) trip. Good thing otherwise it would've taken a week to get to the Nine Pin - normally a big crashing mess of water, birds and rock....mainly rock.

The Frog-Eyed Sprites

2009-02-02T15:58:00.010+13:00

Here we are, the Frog-Eyed Sprites venturing along the treacherous back roads of the Far North.

Sunday driving?
Pah!

This is rally racing at its best, complete with salt liquorice and Molly the Dog.

This is a fmaous spot called Mt Bledisloe; it's a hill that mostly you drive up and only have to walk the last 100 metres until you get to a funky ceramic compass, about three foot across. It tells you how far to all sorts of useful places (London, Suva, Ruapekapeka, Kaitaia...errrr). Lord Bledisloe owned all the land round here once upon a Governor-Generalship but gave all 1000 acres back to the people of New Zealand in 1932. This 'trust' land became known as the birthplace of the nation and was the site of the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi...and there my knowledge ends. Google Waitangi.

So, after a jaunt up a hill, some posing with Sprite cans on our arms and a few pieces of salt liquorice we hit Lily Pond Farm. This place is under-10s heaven: guinea pigs roaming free among a llama, a donkey, an emu (did you know they have DRUMS in their tummies?!), a couple of scrawny lambs and goats and a blind highland cow called Jock. I was so beside myself with excitement that I forgot to take any pictures. Still, it was hot and dusty at the farm, so instead of hitting the main road we turned right past Captain Bucko's place and down to the swimming hole. Later I learned that this is one of the most polluted swimming spots in the country but at that stifling moment I couldn't have cared less. It was COOL and WET.

Molly made an exhibition of herself chasing sticks while Marg, Jonny and I swam in our underwear. Jonny was wearing shiny green boxers brought for the dog (who rightly turned up her nose at the ignomy of such attire...jonny didn't seem so perturbed though). Sophie was wearing white knickers so declined to take part. I won't damage you with pictures of us in wet underwear, but this is the spot:

And then, instead of having just a hot dog, we had a hot, tired dog.

We then drove for hours, ate cheese and rice crackers, took the back road to Kawakawa, answered lots of silly questions and finally...sat down for an official sponsor beer.

We didn't win even though that's the only reason we took part. Apparently the bonus questions at the back were part of the rally and not just there to disctract the back seat drivers...

Photos that could've been: Sophie in a bunny suit; Marg apple bobbing; Jonny kayaking to glorious victory earning us our barbecue vouchers and ten extra points.

Paihia Christmas Parade

2008-12-12T12:58:00.004+13:00

Medusa with a smile

2008-09-12T15:44:00.000+12:00

Rising two metres rising

2008-09-12T15:43:00.000+12:00

White tops dart through the bay,
Pretty in the sunshine, a creamy flicker on a jewel-like sea,
Harmlesss
But harbouring a more aggressive mood
If you swing the wrong way.

Near gale, the VHF reports.
Easterly. 25 knots rising 35 in the afternoon.
Swell report, one metre rising,
Seas becoming rough.

The boats bob gently in the afternoon sun
Is it coming through? Or missed us?
Usually it comes earlier than they predict
And our emerald bay turns to muddy syrup
With grandiose waves challenging you to creep nearer.

Emergency report: front coming straight over
Gale force winds, 45 knots plus.
No, this one’s a biggy, the lowest low in a decade:
Looking at 65 knots plus, hold on to your hats!

We get a hurricane overhead
and it never even makes the world frame.

Cow Parsley

2008-08-15T16:22:00.001+12:00

Red Bike Spinning

2008-08-15T16:06:00.004+12:00

Dreamt you and I were cycling in the dark,
it was pitch black, supernaturally black,
no street lights nor building lights,
not even a star.

You were cycling fast, overtaking me
you didn't see the slow moving car in front,
there were no lights.

I saw too late, gave a strangled cry,
too late, a head on collision.

You and bike flew over the car,
together spinning.
Your bike was red,
it was the only colour I could see.
I thought you were must be dead
but I couldn't reach you.

Later (after wading through marsh land
and grappling with giant poisonous cacti)
our paths crossed again.
You were right as rain
while I still felt the trauma.

Domesticity

2008-02-19T12:06:00.001+13:00

Lessons in love and corn

The tedious bliss of domesticity

Pete's nieces

2008-02-18T12:05:00.000+13:00

Pete's sister Emma and her husband Tim bought their two little girls up to the Bay for the Tall Ships race in January 2008. They came to hang out with us on the boat one evening when we were anchored in Matauwhi Bay. Isla and Alice didn't say one word all evening (Uncle Pete's very scary afterall...) but they liked the ducks.

Surfing in Taupo Bay

2008-02-18T11:59:00.000+13:00

Aunty Catalina

2008-02-13T16:09:00.000+13:00

I didn't take this photo. Obviously. But here he is, Baby Sebastian. Copywrite the father, in every sense.

Whangaroa Race 25th Jan (Waitangi to Whangaroa)

2008-02-01T16:58:00.000+13:00

Whangaroa Harbour is a beautiful and massive fjord-like harbour, 35 miles up the coast from the Bay of Islands - a scenic cruise (albeit through bumpy seas) past rocky coastline, long exposed beaches and through the gorgeous Cavalli Islands. We raced up there in six hours and came triumphantly last (well, we were on an old cruiser with only three crew, one of whom didn't have a clue what she was doing tum te tum but she learnt a lot I'm told). On the sail back down I swam in the Cavallis a matter of miles from the spot where a record-breaking Bronzie had been caught the previous day in the mouth of the harbour; I couldn't shift the idea of shark-infested murky waters, so my heart had more of a workout than my body. No good photos as it was a bit rough, but finally I've captured some of the infamous New Zealand mail boxes.

Moorings and truck motors

2008-01-25T14:39:00.000+13:00

What an unprepossessing title. But that's what my life is about at the moment. Moorings and engines.

First of all, moorings: I am now the proud owner of one quarter of a concrete block. Shortly, when I gather the outstanding $750, I will be on the real estate map, in the form of a four-tonne piece of concrete and a pile of rusty chain lying in the deep mud off the desirable shores of Te Whahapu Bay. This photo here is not the new mooring, but it is one I encountered whilst having a little dander about in my canoe off Paihia beach a couple of weeks ago.

And as for engines, well, the houseboat runs on a 90hp Isuzu diesel engine. This engine has probably done many many thousands of hours in a HGV before it started its retirement years in our boat. Unfortunately, the supposedly reconditioned engine wasn't so much reconditioned as taken apart and put back together again without much thought as to the 'condition' bit. Turns out that a barely functioning piston was put back in and shards of metal have progressively been thrown round the engine. Oh, I don't know - may be it wasn't a piston, perhaps it was a valve...whatever, it didn't look too healthy, even to my glazed-over eye. We're inhabitants of Waitangi right now. About two k 'down the road' from our normal mooring in Paihia, shown here:

Flowering pohutakawas

2007-12-17T13:43:00.000+13:00

I've only had one Christmas away from home. But it was in the Alps, and it was snowy and I was with my family (sadly Santa couldn't make it that time, although he hadn't forgotten us and had visited our Taunton home where he had left me a blue E.T. lunch box).

Not only is this my first Christmas without family and friends, this is also my first Christmas in a climate that is upside down. Instead of snow, we've got hot spring rain. Instead of chill blue skies and scalding tea, we've got muggy grey days and iced coffee. Instead of douglas firs we have gorgeous red-flowering pohutakwas.

Even if I could be a bit bah-humbug about the commercialisation of christmas in London/UK, I must admit to missing out on the sense of festivity and anticipation; they seem to fit hand in glove with wintery weather and snug evenings at home after brisk walks. Christmas in Northland isn't quite the same. There's the odd decoration and there are parties of course, but I suppose I don't know enough people yet to be on the guest lists. The upshot is that I barely notice that this month is any different from the last month or the one before. I can't quite believe it's mid December, less than a week to the longest - or shortest - day.

Our office closes for three weeks (three weeks!!) on Friday. However, my holiday pay would barely cover buying the milk each day, so I am working pretty much full time at Waikokopu Cafe. Neither relaxing nor a money spinner, but hopefully good spirited - it usually is.

So tonight I'll put our christmas cards up on the boat, and make a present corner where the tree ought to be. We have one bauble and a bag of white powder that purportedly makes fake snow...(hmm). I think we'll go sailing on Christmas day. Hopefully some friends - Sophie and Jonny, who are also working through the holiday period - will join us on Undine for an afternoon cruise. May be the sun will shine too. Not so bad hey?

---

But while the Christmas season may be passing without my noticing particularly, I have definitely been aware it's sailing season. I've been out three days in a row on 'performance' boats, mainly acting as ballast and in charge of the jib, constantly out on the wire lying horizontal to the ocean, stretching my torso till I feel about a foot taller, able to drag my hand through the water beneath me and occasionally caught in the face by rolling swell, momentarily losing balance and bouncing on the trapeze, grappling with my toes to find sure footing again. Nearly as good as skiing...I never thought I would say that!

This photo is of Antje's boat, Hot Gossip just before I went out for my first ever sail on a javelin. Antje's a world class sailor; what an opportunity to be her crew!

Cape Reinga

2007-12-07T14:30:00.000+13:00

Paihia Ladies Day

2007-12-07T14:13:00.000+13:00

At one stage there was a group of kiwi guys sitting under this sign, all looking hellishly glum. I tried to take a picture, but the camera cut out. Nora made up for it later by giving me this great shot.

Dennys, Dairy Queen and Super 8

2007-12-07T14:04:00.000+13:00

This photo is for the benefit of Hannah who's in Salt Lake City, and posted some great photos of drive-thru McDs in the snow...

It's taken in Vernon, BC, Canada. We'd been driving through a rain-soaked Okanagan, staying in motels and not really seeing what we'd come for i.e. sun-soaked valleys and beautiful lakes. Anyway, at Vernon we ended up staying at the Super 8 on the main motel drag having arrived too late and being too poor to find alternative. We had dinner in Denny's over the way. I took this photo - as the shutter clicked, the battery died - from the inside of Denny's looking back to our motel (you can just see the sign in the distance). I had just eaten a cheese and ham toastie and was sipping a luke warm glass of white wine. And boy, was I miserable that day.

Scuttling of HMS Canterbury

2007-11-07T11:46:00.000+13:00

On Saturday 3rd November, the HMS Canterbury was 'retired' to the bottom of Deep Water Cove to form a new dive site, rivalling the Rainbow Warrior*, which is now scuttled in Matauri Bay, near the Cavalli Islands.

(*another reason why Kiwis hate the French, on top of the 2007 Rugby World Cup)

The Jar - our house on floats - braved the journey into open waters with six passengers on the way out, nine on the return.

Pete shows Pamela and Tatiana the way

It was a 3.5hr journey each way at about 4.2 knots. Not very swift (to compare, we picked up some hardcore hitch-hikers later on who'd come out from Paihia on their home-made plywood boat in about half an hour).

Overtaken by everyone else en route, even Tucker

Pausing for a game on Buzz (my new canoe) - this is Pamela who I work with at Creative Edge

By official scuttling time, 14:00 hrs, there were hundreds of boats in Deep Water Cove - Pete said that in his ten years in the Bay he'd never seen so many boats in one place. Everyone was out, from the smallest yachts and 'tinnies' to super yachts, the commercial motor boats, a car ferry and of course R Tucker Thomson (a real authentic replica who fired the cannon to denote the beginning-of-the-end for the sinking frigate).

Watching the ad hoc fleet grow

There were no other houseboats though, and as we manoeuvred awkwardly through the fleet, we had a mixture of envious stares and mocking smiles at our 'living room' on the fore deck.

The helm

The Canterbury was supposed to have been sunk about three weeks ago. Bad weather meant that it was too risky for the tug to pull the giant hunk of steel past Tarpeka Point - a notorious washing machine - so the sinking was stalled. They eventually positioned the Canterbury in Deep Water Cove three days prior to the scuttling.

The day before she was due to be blown up, she was already taking on too much water (obviously, they'd punched in most of the holes before she left port to make sure she'd go without too much performance) and the commercial boats had been asked not to create too much wake when they took punters past, just in case she disappeared before the big day. She lasted the course, and finally after an extended fairwell from the iwi and the tv cameras, they put her to rest at about 15:30. Needless to say, the on-deck explosives were all for effect (and obliterated almost everyone's view as over half the 'fleet' were downwind of the frigate).

The sinking itself was supposed to take about 10 minutes.

HMS Canterbury exploded, tilted to starboard and slipped underwater with barely a ripple in under two minutes.

First fillet

2007-10-31T14:38:00.000+13:00

First experience of filleting a fish. Hmmm.

(sharper knife required)

Sunrise and sunset in spring

2007-10-24T14:58:00.001+13:00

Early morning on Waitangi creek

Pete and Layton at the yacht club one Sunday evening after a day's sailing.

Our swallows

2007-10-24T14:47:00.000+13:00

Here they are, sitting on Bob in Waitangi.

Vicious Valdora and her motley crew

2007-10-24T14:33:00.001+13:00

From left to right, it's Tiptoe Tammy, Slippery Sam and Matchstick Marg. With Pete on the right. Everyone here is hammered on rum and coke...except the photographer, who's drinking a mug of red wine.

Scavenging for citrus fruit

2007-10-24T13:40:00.000+13:00

Baby shag and birds in general

2007-10-19T12:05:00.001+13:00

Rowing ashore one morning, this baby cormorant was perched on the wharf at Waitangi. It didn't fly off until we were about one metre away in our little dinghy (Bob). The next day it was sat there again with its wings hung out to dry, the way they do. It looked a bit pathetic, like it had lost his mum and was imitating being grown up.

We also have swallows nesting in one of the air flues on the houseboat roof. Although I haven't seen them since we moved from Waitangi creek to Pahia beach - I feel terrible that we might have wrenched a nesting pair from their hideaway!

Bird life is pretty awesome here. Tuis are noisy and boisterous. Their song is beautiful, in an all-over-the-place kind of way. And I can't find any good photos of them. Tui is also a beer, with a reputation for hot chicks in the factory I gather...

Pukeko are dumb birds with long legs, a loping gait and no wings to speak of. They're always wandering along the roads and tend to leap at your windscreen rather than to safety. What is it with New Zealand and flightless birds?!

Other than these guys, there are gorgeous little wagtail things that dart about and of course the kiwi itself (hidden in the undergrowth, never to be seen, virtually extinct - well, at least endangered - what did I say about New Zealand birds that don't fly? Hmmmm). This poor bugger looks well past it:

As the saying goes

2007-10-18T17:44:00.000+13:00

Recently, as I go to sleep, I've been writing an update to my blog in my head. Needless to say, by morning the genius has evaporated and I'm left with a blank sheet and no time to do anything about it.

An update, at least then: I'm here in Paihia still. I have no electricity and scant little running water. But there is a hot shower!! Sadly it's dependent on rainfall. At last I have some jobs. I'm a marketing consultant, a waitress and potentially a boat-charter salesperson. I have money in a kiwi bank account that is just about in the three figure zone (it fluctuates, usually in a downward trend). I am learning to sail and occasionally take the wheel of our (our?!) houseboat, which I detest - taking the wheel that is, not the houseboat itself.

Summer's on its way. Sunrise and sunset are sublime from the water. Arm muscles impressive from the rowing.

Another day in paradise...

Self portrait

2007-09-05T14:44:00.001+12:00

Red scooter on a gravel road

2007-08-30T17:30:00.000+12:00

Today I find myself navigating some of the hillier lanes in and around the Bay of Islands. It's my first day on an under-powered scooter and I thought my asphalt-free days were behind me in Mongolia, but I was wrong. A swift learning curve: scooters and gravel are not well-matched. Still, I've learnt it's possible to transport a beaker of coffee on the footplate without spillage (no, not on the hilly gravelly roads, just up the high street). The scootering is to aid my new job as a freelance, commission-only salesperson for Paihia's only marketing and print company. If I think too hard about the job itself I want to weep (full time since last Thursday, not a penny earned yet) but the means of doing the job is kinda fun - trucking it up to Kerikeri via farms, holiday parks, paintball people and waterfalls; scootering over to Te Haumi under a brilliant blue sky with scarf billowing Isadora Duncan style; pottering through Paihia in the rain (ok, that day wasn't so fun...). I must have spoken to a couple of hundred people by now - there aren't that many of them here, I'll know them all soon.

Officialdom: I have a bank account, I have a job of sorts, I'm waiting on my medical to be ticked off and posted to Auckland (my blood results came back, the receptionist told me brightly "nothing major" .... nothing major?? you can't say that and not tell me anything else!). Then I should receive my visa and start earning money providing I find a proper paying job or get better at the one I'm doing. I'm an official person again, even though I can still fit all my possessions in my minuscule 30-litre day pack and I continue to live on the site of a backpackers (manager, darling, not resident).

Nearly everyday I wonder "what on earth are you doing here?" - I haven't found an answer yet. I miss good journalism, interesting art, my music, my duvet, normal TV, good pubs. God how I miss good pubs! Here I enjoy more sun, good wine, a view of the ocean, beautiful hills. I'm living with a set of scales in my head with weights changing daily; I know I don't have to choose, but it feels like every moment I stay, I'm making a decision that will be harder and harder to un-knit.

Do you ever not see the sky in Mongolia?

2007-08-26T08:32:00.000+12:00

Chasing Monks

Art, bricks and mortar

2007-08-26T08:31:00.000+12:00

Outside the centre

Do you ever see the sky in China?

2007-08-26T08:30:00.001+12:00

Do you ever see the sky in China?

Catching up on me

2007-08-26T08:25:00.000+12:00

Crikey, I haven't updated this since Brisbane. That was nearly three months ago and prior to the most exciting/unusual part of my trip. I'll update retrospectively, gradually, as I extract the bits of writing from here and there - things are scribbled in one or other of the numerous notebooks I have been carrying around. Some words are slowly shipping their way from Beijing to New Zealand in a package I posted back in June. Still, I can link to photos...

Brisbane

2007-06-11T11:29:00.001+12:00

Brisbane

Leaving New Zealand

2007-06-05T19:41:00.000+12:00

I have left New Zealand. I didn't see much of it geographically speaking but eventually made it to the south island to pick up my international flight. It seems a bit of a giveaway that I haven't updated my blog once since I got to the country - I did say to myself on the flight from Canada: "I bet you I only blog when I'm bored or miserable". I was neither bored nor miserable in the Bay of Islands.

I have written some things about my time there but left the hard copy (scribbles on back of envelope style) on the houseboat. I'd better go back sometime soon and retrieve them I suppose...

Bay of Islands

2007-06-05T19:38:00.000+12:00

Bay of Islands

A casual backtrack (part 1)

2007-05-16T08:50:00.000+12:00

Skunk Cabbage on Bowen Island...wild garlic? Georgia O'Keeffe?

April 17th, Kamloops - Town of the Mystifying Signage

I guess you would call this Canada's equivalent to the Scottish Lowlands; a sweeping wind- and rain-eroded hilly landscape of sage brush and tumbleweed. The major crop here seems to be North American ginseng, the cooling opposite (the yin?) to Asian ginseng's hot-blooded yang.

Kamloops is a strange place of industrial units and functional blocks that disguise the odd area of interest. Though I don't recommend their wildlife park, except for the four yellow-eyed wolves. In this town the north and south Thompson rivers meet in a gentle way. Whilst sitting by the river watching the sun go down, Pat commented that the experience is just like sitting on the shore of the Ganges in Varanasi. I hope not.

...and yes, he was being sarcastic.

April 21st, Jasper

Here I am in the Canadian Rockies enjoying the most awesomely brtual mountains I ever saw and - oh! look at this - it's a notice of intended prosectuion from the Wiltshire police, here's me doing over 70mph on the A303 from London to Devon.

**sigh**

April 21st continued, Columbia Icefields

Who'd've thought the purity of the Columbia Icefield could sustain such blackness? This is what I found out there on the Athabasca Glacier:

April 23rd, Banff - Sulphur Mountain

Neither words nor camera can do justice to the experience of Sulphur Mountain's summit on a clear blue day. Before, I'd been thinking how all these monumental snow-topped lumps of rock made me feel like the Tardis - bigger on the inside - and made me ask "how can this litlle body possibly contain everything it feels inside?". Well, a panoramic view of an unending mountainous landscape did the opposite: it made me feel like a minute, temporal speck sitting on top of the world. Pat quoted the old mama from Mike Leigh's High Hopes: "I feel like I'm on top of the world" she says in broad cockney as she peers over the edge of her son's roof garden down onto Kings Cross' disused gasworks. I know what she means.

April 28th, Osoyoos and home

"Looks like it's been raining for a month here. In fact, it looks like it doesn't know how to do anything else but rain."

Auckland and me

2007-05-05T19:22:00.000+12:00

Well, Auckland, I'm sorry to say this but I'm not sure I like you all that much. Granted, your art galleries are good, you have more hostels than you can shake a stick at and mostly the sun shines.

But you are neither metropolitan nor bohemian, neither glamorous nor scuzzy, and your pedestrian lights are a law unto themselves. I haven't found any 'pockets' of anything that have charmed me and to top it off, there's a bloody bungee jumpy cagey thing outside my dorm window (mild dislike for lengths of elastic with people attachments is turning to hatred...oh shit, I'm in the wrong country aren't I?!).

Solution: get out.

I have a bus ticket that takes me way up north tomorrow morning, right up to the resting place of Maori spirits at the tip of the Ninety Mile Beach that is only 64 miles long. This same very useful ticket then takes me everywhere else I could possibly want to go over both the North and South Islands, whenever I like and for however long. Result!

Last port of call in this city is the K Road...

Wherever you go, there you are

2007-05-04T18:03:00.000+12:00

And your home towns always find you in one way or another...

Ever heard of "focus", Catherine?

Turbulence

2007-05-04T17:59:00.000+12:00

"Turbulence signals unsettledness, turmoil, surprise, rupture and unpredictability. It is both within us, in our psyches, and it is outside us. In turbulent times the feelings of loss, fear, anguish, grief and anger, along with the notions of hope, sustenance, the capacity to dream and find refuge rise to the surface"

"[It's] about the real, imagined, poignant and ambiguous transformations that occur along the way"

The big smoke

2007-05-04T17:36:00.000+12:00

And this is my first experience of Auckland: the 'big smoke' in the land of the long white cloud, according to the gospel of Lonely Planet. I arrived at the hostel by 7am, but they wouldn't let me check in until after 10...gah! sleep-deprived, twisted and acutely aware of being alone...not good!! So I went to the highest point I could find so I could loiter awhile. I found clouds mainly, but it beat the hostel lobby easily. This is about 200m up the Sky Tower, New Zealand's tallest building and the 12th highest in the world (hmm, not such an impressive stat, that one).

You can jump off this tower if you want. I don't want, thank you very much.

Chronologically challenged

2007-05-04T16:35:00.000+12:00

Not only have I just lost a whole day (May 3rd fell into the ether somewhere over the Pacific between LA and Auckland), I also appear to have mislaid 3 weeks...I did go to Canada, honest. I loved Vancouver. And I really did see miles and miles of untouched mountains that could almost let you forget the man's scars on the world. It's just that I'm not that competent at this digital diary thing, and am still getting to grips with my camera. Anyway, once we've overcome the logistical problem of Canada images being on Pat's mum's desktop on the 21st floor in Vancouver and me being in a full-on Korean internet games room on the other side of the world, something might be posted.

In the meantime, here's Bill Reid's sculpture, which is in the Museum of Anthropology in Vancouver: Raven Discovering Mankind in the Clamshell.

The raven finds a clam shell washed up on an island and there seem to be people living inside. He prises the shell open and coaxes the little people out by saying that if they face this world they'll grow tall. The raven is known for being a trickster - he lies, cheats and steals and is my favourite incidentally - so they're probably wise to be cautious. Anyhow, the little people do make an unglamorous escape from their bolthole and I think I'm right in saying that this marked the beginning of the Haida Nation on Queen Charlotte Islands, a nation that is now particularly known for its art.

That's an eagle's head on the raven's backside - the Raven and Eagle clans are affiliated in some way (and now my knowledge runs out) and so everytime one clan is depicted, the other must also be represented. An upside-down eagle on the raven's tail isn't all that complimentary though.

April showers in Vancouver

2007-04-17T08:00:00.000+12:00

Pictures from me not forthcoming yet are they?! Camera battery flat, took me ages to find a bloody adaptor (doh, forgot to buy one in uk) and then not the easiest to find somewhere secure where I can charge the damn thing. Anyway, pictures soon I promise!

Vancouver is a great city. I thought it was a bit clean cut at first but needless to say through Pat I've seen the...ummm, how shall I say... alternatively engaging side. And we are gradually working our way through every type of cuisine available (believe me that's a lot).

So I've seen lots of cool stuff in the past week - eagles eating seagulls, amazing totem poles, huge trees, copious amounts of fat brown rain and a whole bunch of mountains.

Easter Sunday

2007-04-09T04:34:00.000+12:00

Last walk in the Blackdowns for a while. Vancouver tomorrow.

Devon

2007-04-06T23:34:00.000+12:00

A handful of skulls loiter around the back door protecting us from something or other. This is the only one I could find this morning.

50p for half a dozen bantam eggs, 60p for duck eggs. Any empty egg boxes gratefully received.

A rare cooked breakfast - too many eggs, they need eating.

Fiver and Charlie

The story of the red dresser for those who remember...

Lorraine, Naomi and I bought this from the Salvation Army shop on Dumbarton Road, Glasgow in spring 1999. I think we paid £8. We were staying in an enormous ground floor flat on Kersland Street which had neither central heating nor furniture (though it did have its very own double entrance, including storm doors that opened on to the street - quite glamorous really). The idea of painting this red was to help warm up, if only visually, a very chilly household. We carried this coffin-like sideboard the 3/4 of a mile up Byres Road to the strains of the funeral march sang to us by passers by. We recruited a stranger with a hangover to help us along the way.

It had its heyday in our vast and empty hallway was almost 6 years of decline in a barn in Devon (the only £8 piece of furniture to travel the 500 miles from Scotland to the West Country in a van that was hard-pushed to go over 50mph).

Today it has finally found its rightful place in the lambing shed.

Grimshaw: a very serious debrief

2007-03-30T03:14:00.000+12:00