Last week I came home and knew. The wind had changed. All my furniture had gone, my kitchen equipment, the dining room table, and chairs, even the fridge. I sat in the middle of the now-large empty living room, on the floor, and knew. “I guess it’s time to Mary Poppins out of here”. And so I did.

The house has treated me well. Really well. The first time we’ve had a land-base for o so long. A place where we can welcome visitors, grow food, store (and accumulate) stuff comfortably, and listen to birdsong in the morning. A place that is in exactly the same state upon return as it was left. A place to call one’s own.

The work was fantastic too – and NZ IceFest a real success. Huge thanks to Antarctica New Zealand and Christchurch City Council Events for bringing me into the fold. It was a blast. Something for everyone: an immersive art installation, an ice rink, two bars, comedy, music, a magical-looking site, a kids programme, posh dinners and cocktail parties, an Air Force open day, and a science programme too. For my part (responsible for the science and outreach components), I’m pleased with what was delivered – over 100 “real Antarcticans” in a wide range of talks and discussions – about 30 in all – spread over a month. Topical debates, chat-show style interviews, timeless Antarctic Yarns, and the southernmost Café Scientifique, three times a week… all with really engaging speakers. And lots of positive feedback. I’ll write more about the festival, and post some pictures, anon. For a taster of events, you can listen to the IceFest podcasts thanks to Veronika Meduna at Radio New Zealand National.

Now, somehow, I’ve found myself in Wellington, on our boat, surrounded by bags. That’s where Mary Poppins pips me – she has that magical bottomless bag. You don’t see her packing and unpacking and agonizing over logistics of how to get boat, car, bike, bags, and people all to the same place, effortlessly, and with sanity in tact. She remains my hero though, and I strive to achieve her dizzy heights of boundless carefreeness, balanced by thrilling efficacy, in appropriate measure.

My next job has already begun, but I’m excited to launch myself into it properly. All sorts of projects around putting science in context, and conversations around science: University courses, public engagement activities, building networks,  tailored events, workshops, research and relevance… there are so many opportunities and ideas when you open that can that it’s both exciting and also a little scary. I thank the Faculty of Science at Victoria University of Wellington for not trying to put me in a box.

First, however, and most importantly, my parents are in the country and it’s time to go and spend some good, quality time together. That, without a doubt, is priority number one.

It’s been a long time since I was in the garden. At all.
Occasionally I go out back to pick a lettuce leaf or two for my sandwich – and that’s always a joy – but that’s about my only reason to go out there. That, and to empty the compost bin: a weekly event. And it’s now far too cold to hang out washing on the line. This is Christchurch, in winter.

But today I went a-weedin. And what did I find there, amidst the jungle of green? That’s right – lettuces! And purple kale! And poppy plants. And I have no idea where the rhubarb has got to. And sprouted conkers.

Who knew – they grow upside down! I’m sure I was meant to pull them up (I’m reasonably confident that my landlord doesn’t want three fully grown horse chestnuts in his vegetable patch) but I just didn’t have the heart. Conker trees are dying all across the UK and I’m asked to willfully stop these ones from having a chance? I don’t the think we want them here (non-native species), so can I dig them up and post them home? Is New Zealand a repository of healthy conkers, like South Georgia is for healthy [Norwegian] reindeer?

I’m having a homealone day. Check out my teapot. Says it all. Drinking litres of hot lemon in an attempt to convince my body that I’m not gestating anything more than a sound dose of hypochondria.

It’s good to have a homealone day though – seems like an age since I had nothing planned and nowhere to be. Or do. Ever noticed how a head cold makes everything that mattered yesterday entirely unimportant today?

Andy and I have both been busily getting on with whatever we do with our days, and continuing to be in different places most of the time. But the good news is that he’s heading this way. This morning he and a mate set off in S/V Baltazar. They left the Bay of Islands (north of NZ) and are heading south.

As I was weeding I started daydreaming. How delicious it will be, when he’s here, to nonchalantly say, “honey, could you please go out back and pick some lettuce leaves for  dinner?” Like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

]]> http://smilingfootprints.com/2012/08/conkers-grow-upside-down/feed/ 1 http://smilingfootprints.com/2012/07/two-boats/ http://smilingfootprints.com/2012/07/two-boats/#comments Tue, 10 Jul 2012 02:54:24 +0000 Rhian http://smilingfootprints.com/?p=857

Zephyrus & Baltazar

Zephyrus looking as lovely as ever. Note the incredible change in water line as books are removed...

dodgy tash Whittaker

salty old sea dog

]]> http://smilingfootprints.com/2012/07/two-boats/feed/ 0 http://smilingfootprints.com/2012/07/andy-mitch-angus-baltazar/ http://smilingfootprints.com/2012/07/andy-mitch-angus-baltazar/#comments Sun, 08 Jul 2012 08:03:40 +0000 Andy http://smilingfootprints.com/?p=797

Baltazar sailing to wind

Angus

Mitch - he was cleanshaven when they left

Andy

downwind sailing

Mahi Mahi

blowy

inside Baltazar

bananas

Tied up alongside in Opua Marina safe and sound after 4 months at sea, nothing more to say right now, very tired very smiley very very done!

Ready for a quiet sleep and a sweet dream.

Love to you all Andy x

Check out the latest balloons on this map – they’ve been battling and bashing against some strong ol’ headwinds the last few days… should’ve been here any day now… ETA currently Monday…. fingers crossed….. epic, epic leg. Stories to come, I’m sure. After a shower. And a beer.

I had the 3am to 6am watch last night. At about 5.40am this morning, about 30 minutes before sunrise, i was looking up at the stars when something strange caught my eye to the south.
Two lights traveling in tandem, at first i thought it was a plane but quickly decided not, then a satellite but its rare to see them so close-  in fact i don’t think i have ever seen two together. I’m guessing the lights were some 700 meters apart but difficult to tell when judging distance with stars.
As i watched, I realized they were not traveling like satellites arcing high through the sky but were coming towards me from roughly 20 degrees above the horizon. This continued for about 7 to 10 seconds when they became intensely bright like car headlights. Just as i was thinking ‘what the and wow’ they appeared not exactly to stop but to retreat, moving
rapidly towards the west and gaining in altitude. I lost sight of them due west at about 60 degrees above the horizon and finally fading into the background of stars. The whole time remaining perfectly in tandem.The whole event took about twenty seconds.

And i was only saying just that morning amazing how we haven’t seen a
single ship this whole trip!

The three amigos then found ourselves on our backs staring at the sky….laughing…Found a lovely lady to make us Steak and chips and that was all, she wrote.

Mitch’s girl arrives in two days so we are likely to be here for 15 odd days…. (Haaaa Rhian and i said that two years ago and stayed for 7 weeks..) The plan then is one more stop 700nm west the island of Ravavi then direct to NZ..But for now the boat is still..

light and fickle airs all night followed by a huge southerly swell 6 to 7 meters but no breaking sea so quite tranquil.
this morning thunder and lightning started with an exceptional display
at dawn, a towering cumulus billowing bigger and higher a few miles to
the south of us which then started to light up in its entirety several
miles wide – cloud filled with lightning, both sheet and pulsing forks.
Continuing on for 2 to 3 hrs… I could only watch on with fascination
and deep delight at not being under it!!

We are now just passing Ducie, the first of the Pitcairn group. We have
spent the last three days dillying 20 miles from it with little or no
wind…  and not starting the engine!! 560 nm to the Gambiers, back in
time for tea and medals huzzah and huula huula to ya’ll…….

‘Bienvenido el Isla’
The lithe fisherman called, there is nowhere I know where those three
words evoke such strong and heartfelt memories.
We had arrived at the bay of Juan batiste, Bahia Cumberland, Isla Juan
Fernandez.

Anchor down and to business a dive over the side into perfect
temperature water washing away the last days at sea.
As we sat drying on the deck I looked up at the mountains surrounding
the bay, cloud pouring down over the peaks with shafts of sunlight
burning through lighting up pockets of forest and the odd tin roof.
We made our way ashore and went for a short walk, followed by clearing
back into Chile at customs then time to stroll and absorb.
I took in the rebuilding the larger number of people than previous (the
new workforce) the remnants of the old structures, the still very
cleared and barren coastline.
Prominent is an area as you walk away from the jetty belonging to the
the Green family.

Ximena Green, is a fourth generation Islander from one of the original
family’s to inhabit the Island whom is also a lady who lost almost
everything during the Tsunami in 2010, her house, her business the town
bakery and a small backpackers; most painfully one of her grandson’s
Joachin or as I came to hear him called ‘Puntito’ meaning (little thing).
Jocahin was also the brother of Pablo the first of the young teens Rhian
and I pulled out of the water that night. (Ximena is also Pablo’s
grandmother)

I remained quiet as to whom I was and to the part I had played during
the Tsunami, until two days along I met with Marcelo Rossi very
abruptly, he asked me why the sailors all wanted to use the moorings and
not anchor, I replied that I could not speak for anyone else but had
personally tested that mooring and felt very happy with my boat on it.

He asked me how, and I replied that my wife and I where moored to it on
the night of the Tsunami, he looked up slowly and said
Zephyrus…..Pablo ..also another boy from the main land and the family
Alejandro Pena…i was stunned he knew it all, he then said you also
left your outboard motor here..
I said yes, we had left it behind as we were expecting another wave and
had to leave no time to unhook an outboard. But how do you know that I
asked, He replied its an Island everyone here  knows everything….Wow
errr who has the outboard now…Oh he said I don’t know that!! I laughed
saying I don’t want it back just to know.
Marcelo took it upon himself to introduce me around, first a man i
came to admire greatly, Jorge Palomino resident of Juan Fernandez for 32
years, he is both the island postman and the priest, as he said “siempre
con la noticia” always with the news..
His quiet demeanor and peaceful countenance speak first and volumes for
him.
We met daily and talked at length on subjects as far ranging as English
Football (a subject I’m hopeless at), ancient Polynesian navigational
techniques (I can wittle on about that a bit), and why south Americans
prefer to drink nescafe over real coffee (to me a mystery as deep as the
marina trench). Closer at heart the losses felt by the island and to how;
two years on the people of the island are.

Many have left for the mainland, Pablo and his parents are one of these
family’s.
Some have returned but the island has been fractured in more ways than
just a natural disaster, many people are still scared by what the what
ifs ‘what if another Tsunami’ a bigger another. “Its understandable” he
says “but there is always hope and there will always be community”.

So many story’s from such a short stay, piecing together people and
their tales, many hugs lots of tears and too many gracias.
Our final day i went spear fishing with two local boys, Attilo and
Hernan going deep down surrounded by fish a fur seal glides up and barks
bubbles at me I bubble back.
The ocean feels well again.
That evening our final, a bbq at Marcelos house as night fell a huge hot
tub was being heated, we ate fish then clambered up into a bath!!!! The
moon days away from being full lit the bay below.
I looked out and remembered another night much darker in all ways.
Marcelo told me his tale, his family all survived, his four year old
daughter trapped in a jeep filled with water finally he managed to open
a door, he tells me she was just sitting there holding her nose. He also
watched his wife get swept out to sea they did not find one another for
many hours.
It was Marcelo we could hear calling over and over just a hundred meters
behind our boat.
For his family it is real and they have chosen to remain and rebuild.
“Where would you go from here” he sais with a smile.

As we left Marcelo hugged me and said You and yours will always be
welcome on the Island.

What more is there to say!

In total we spent seven days at Juan Fernandez,
The days were mostly spent fixing things and having a well needed rest
also some time to put the ship in order before the next leg, one we are
now eight days and just over half way into along with some other
familiar waters the 1600 nm to Rapa nui ‘Easter Island’. 798 nm to go at
last look….

To the now the days are passing well, ship life is now an easy rhythm
3hrs on watch, 6hrs off (luxury!)
A steady round of putting in reefs shaking reefs maintaining the ship and
ourselves.
The boat is bigger than Zephyrus, so faster: we average 140 nautical miles
a day and around 7knts speed without pushing it and reefing early most
nights, these are easy miles.
Time also to enjoy simple things,salt water baths on deck followed with
a 1/2 ltr fresh water rinse (another luxury) being dried by the wind and
sun.
Watch the moon rise behind us; track across the sky, sun sets dead
ahead, moon climbs above lighting a path west,Scorpio behind Southern
cross to my left, orion ahead, the sunrises behind the boat splitting
the horizon awake, moon drops ahead. Night passes to day to night to..

Thinking of you all in these quiet times too …