Antipodes

Between both of my week-long sailing excursions this winter, I squeezed in a four day trip to Spain to visit my friends in Getxo. Back in October when I first met Rafa, Saioa, and German while working with the Velux 5 Oceans race (as described here), they were amazed at how little I'd seen of the region even though I'd spent three weeks there. I had no choice as everyone of Robin's crew worked long and hard to get his boat ready for the race. I was encouraged to come back so that I could see all that I had missed. This weekend trip was my first chance to do so and I'd been eagerly anticipating it.

I was stunned. Beginning with the above photo of Punta Galea (a modest walk from the harbor in Getxo), I sent the five pictures included in this entry to a friend back in the States. Her response was simply "So breathtaking...I almost cried."


A lone caballero on Playa de Larrabasterra (Sopelana)

I've long wondered where the ideal place on earth for me would be to live. Some of my primary interests, such as flying, can be transplanted anywhere. Others, such as kayaking, scuba diving, mountain-related sports, and sailing require a certain kind of geography and climate. While I might be relatively well traveled for an American, I do have the typical tendency to focus on European travel at the expense of anywhere else. Even so, the most desirable landscape I'd experienced to this point in my life is New Zealand. It's got every option I could want; warm beaches and captivating coastlines, snow covered mountains, and so much more to appeal to a nature loving person as myself.

There's only two problems with New Zealand as I see it. One, to go any where else is a huge undertaking. Two, they speak English. If I was ever going to plant myself in one place, I'd always dreamed of the intellectual challenge of living in a foreign culture amidst a foreign language. It could be a truly challenging leap of culture and language, such as Chinese in China or Russian in Russia or Amharic in Ethiopia. Or it could simply be French in Chamonix.

Until I find a better place, I've always thought to myself, New Zealand will represent the best conclusion I can make.

Then I met Gexto and Northern Spain. Warm beaches, snow capped mountains nearby in the Pyrenees, varying geography, and more. I don't have even the faintest idea of what residency issues might prevent such an idea from being realized but for now, I'm content and even delighted to proclaim the region of Bizkaia (Basque for Biscay) as the one spot on earth most likely to be my next home.

Still, I've got a world to sail around first.



The surf at Bakio

Rafa and Saioa were my gracious hosts and German joined them as one more enthusiastic guide to lead me to places that took my breath away. Together the four of us as well other family and friends (and a delightful band of children) toured the area around Getxo, either on foot or by car. Never, however, did we stray more than an hour away from Getxo. To think that such physical beauty is so accessible, available, and still unspoiled anywhere on Earth was a marvel to me.

With my friends I talked about how my next major project (after the round-the-world race) would be to build a house with my own hands. The question, however, had always been just where. The more I saw of the Bizkaia region, the more I began to realize this just might be where. Someone suggested that I could buy something on the coast and build a house with a great ocean view. While that would be ideal in some ways, it also seems it would absorb too great of a percentage of whatever resources I had at the moment in mere land acquistion. No, I responded, I'd rather move back a bit into the mountains and start with more land for the same price and build (or restore) something with a greater sense of privacy and space.


The view behind the Restaurante Eneperi in Bakio

On my last full day in Getxo, we drove back into the mainland to Mungia before turning north through a valley on our way towards the coastal town of Bakio. The ultimate goal was the world famous surfing beach of Mundaka. After we left the highway for the secondary road to the north, we passed small farms on fertile hills below forests of pine and eucalyptus.

"This!" I said with my nosed pressed to the window. "This is the kind of place where I'd love to build a house." Moreover, once we'd crested the hill and descended into Bakio, I stood transfixed at the beach for as long as my friends would allow, marveling at the natural beauty of the magnificent waves. Strong winds from the land blew into the face of the waves, keeping them flat for as long as possible before they'd finally begin to break at the crest in white foam with a fine spray of mist blowing back over the top. Each wave looked like a herd of charging horses with manes flying in the breeze. To think, I pondered, that I perhaps I might live in the valley just a few minutes drive away and be so easily able to wander down to this rocky outcrop to witness this majesty whenever I chose.

The day continued on with a lunch and a pause at the Restaurante Eneperi and then on to our ultimate destination of Mundaka, the best surfing available this side of Hawaii. Some would argue that it's the best surfing anywhere at all. We left and drove back down the coast as the sun began to set to have the chance to climb the 200 stone steps to the Iglesia San Juan de Gaztelugatxe before it grew dark. Afterwards, happily tired and enlightened to a new dream, I sat in reflection in the back of the car for the drive back to Getxo. I flew home the next day.

Sometime during the day, someone mentioned that the antipode of Spain is New Zealand. Suddenly it all made sense to me. Both countries share the same lattitude in relation to the equator and both are surrounded by the sea, so they'll have the same climate and much of the same breadth of flora and fauna that I enjoy.

No wonder I'm drawn to this region, I thought to myself, and no wonder so much here in Bizkaia reminds me of all that I love about New Zealand.


The 200 steps up to the Iglesia San Juan de Gaztelugatxe

If in the years to come any of you loose touch with me and intend to track me down, somewhere in the valley between Mungia and Bakio would be a good place to start looking.

Astronaut training

Astronaut training in a sense, that is. It's how I look at the new sailing skills I'm acquiring.

If I could do absolutely anything in the world, it would be to orbit the earth in space. Within recent times, that has actually become an option to anyone with enough cash. Currently it requires a $20m contribution to the Russian government. That's obviously out of my budget so I'm content with what I see as the the historical equivalent; circumnavigation by sail.

Astronauts are the elite travelers of the world. As recently as the end of the 19th century (before flight), circumnavigating sailors were the elite travellers of the world. The appeal to me, then, of being a circumnavigating sailor in the the 21st century is equal to riding a bike to a destination when most other modes of transportation would be easier and faster. It's not about the destination or the speed of travel but the experience of the journey, one that includes self-imposed limitations to enhance the value.

In September of 2003 while in Telluride, Colorado for the National Paragliding Championships, I joined a few friends in attending a party at the nearby town of Ouray. One of us drove a car using the most direct route by car; 100 kilometers around the mountains (purple line). The rest of us hiked 27 kilometers miles across the 3997 meter Imogene Pass (red line and photo above). As always, click on any image for a larger view.

The hike wasn't just about getting to the party. It was about both enjoying of the fruits of the exertion and the savoring the state of being fit enough to take on such a challenge in stride. Also, it was a bit of wild-ass fun. Click on the picture at the top to get the full screen view and you'll see that two of my friends have homemade shortened toboggans strapped to their backs. Once the pass was summited, they rode these down the far side of the immense snow fields we had spent hours ascending.



Furthermore, the town of Ouray has an outdoor pool open year round that's heated by natural geothermal springs. We all had put swimming trunks and a change of clothes in the car taking the less interesting route to Ouray, and so were rewarded by both the experience of the trek and a post-hike, pre-party hot soak.

Life's what you make it. We could have just driven to the party but where's the fun in that?

One of my prime motivations for sailing around the world (among too many to list here) is to not only experience it but thrive and thoroughly enjoy 10 months amidst the potentially unpleasant and perhaps even hostile environment of the open sea. To me, this isn't much different than taking Imogene Pass for the fun of it. A mountain isn't an obstacle but a snow field to ride down (once you've earned the privilege by ascending it). I don't want to just participate in and merely complete a circumnavigation. I want to get the most I can out of the opportunity.

For that reason, I've taken on extra sailing training for our race to a level well beyond the ample amount supplied by the Clipper Ventures company. With the Clipper Ventures training, I'll end up being an extremely competent crew member, and yet one without any true knowledge of navigation, pilotage, weather, international regulations, or many other facets of sailing one needs to be an completely independent sailor. This afternoon I finished a nine day Royal Yachting Association Day Skipper (Tidal) course. This credential is only one notch above the lowest possible skipper rating; Day Skipper (Non-tidal). This now supposedly allows me to legally skipper any boat during daylight hours in demanding tidal situations. I'll pursue the next rating of Coastal Skipper in May once I return from my month at the Norfolk stop of the Velux 5 Oceans race. Though I'll have studied all the theory I can of the highest rating of Yachtmaster before I depart on the race in September, I won't have had near enough experience to be able to even attempt passing the nine hour sailing test. That will come in July 2008, once the race is finished.

Even with this Day Skipper rating, whether or not any charter company would actually allow me to rent a boat right now with my limited experience is another matter altogether. The license I acquired today is more a license to learn than anything else. Most importantly to me, it will allow me to understand more of what's going on amidst our boats as my training continues with Clipper Ventures.

I chose to take this Day Skipper class in February because I wanted to experience the worst winter weather possible. I wanted to try out different clothes and equipment I've acquired to see what it takes to truly stay warm and comfortable amidst anything I'm likely to experience in my circumnavigation.

As it turns out, even the worst kind of drizzling winter rain or near gale force winds that the English Channel had to offer were surprisingly easy to not only endure but downright enjoy. I took the picture below of our instructor (right) and three of the other four students as we sailed out of Portsmouth Harbor last Monday in 30 kts. of wind. You'll note that everyone's hand is clinging to something for stability amidst the heaving seas. Even so, all of us were thrilled to be there.


None of us seemed to care much about whatever weather the week threw at us. It was all part of what we had anticipated and were more than mentally prepared to cope with. In fact, we all had a blast together, even in the freezing rain. I hope to reconvene this same group of new friends this summer over a weekend trip to France and back for both the extra experience and more time spent with good people who love thriving amidst challenging conditions as much as I do.

Alli

Our golden retriever Alli passed away a year ago this week. Raine e-mailed me from Chicago earlier today and told me how much she was missing Alli. I am, too.

I made this video for us both this evening. The first images are of Alli as a puppy on Raine's eighth birthday, the day I gave her Alli. The other images are from the rest of her 15 years with us. My cousin Jill's infant daughter Parker has a significant presence in a series of pictures revealing Alli's usual patience and tolerance while her mouth is explored by a toddler (the cover image you see below).

Towards the end, Raine visits Alli (and me) over a Thanksgiving break during college while I was down in Florida hang gliding.

The last picture of them together is just moments after Raine has finished her last rowing race which, since she'd graduated the week before, was sadly the final act and moment of her very happy college career.

In the end of both Alli's life and this video, she's at home in Raine's Chicago apartment, something Raine had been waiting for and looking forward to for so long.

Sailing Videos

I've just discovered that Clipper Ventures has put two promotional videos on YouTube. Months ago I'd snagged the DVD's for these two clips to show to any friend I could get to sit down long enough in front of my computer. Happily now I can share them with anyone anywhere anytime.

The first video is their promotional video. In a flurry of fast-cut editing, one can get a glimpse of a year's worth of adventure trimmed down to three minutes. You can find this short video right here or watch it below.




The second video, nine minutes long, bears a bit of introduction and background. It chronicles one boat's voyage on one leg ; from Qingdao, China across the northern Pacific (in March!) to Victoria, Canada.

The vessle being filmed was the sailboat sponsored by the city of Victoria. Each of the ten boats in this race has a city sponsoring it and each of those cities (with a few exceptions) hosts a stop on the race. At that point in the ten year history of this race, no boat had ever won the leg leading to it's home port.

This Qingdao-Victoria leg was not only the longest, it was the most difficult one in terms of conditions and weather as well. To understand this, I'll offer a short course on navigation.

Over long distances, such as one travels in oceans or in the air, the shortest distance between two points direct east or west of each other is not always directly east or west. The actual shortest route is called the Great Circle. The illustration below shows why.

These two points in Russia and Canada are both on the 70th Parallel. You could reach either one from the other by heading due east or west (red line). It's clear, however, that the shortest route between them is the green line. Only on the equator is the it quickest to go east and west to any point sharing the same latitude. The further north you go, the more the great circle route arcs to the north (or to the south in the southern hemisphere). Click on either of theses images for a larger version to clarify these points, if necessary.

With this in mind, one can see that the shortest route (red line) between Quindao and Victoria (once one is past Japan) arcs further north than one might first imagine.


To prevent any boat from venturing too far north into areas known to have icebergs, the race office mandated a waypoint south of the Aleutian Islands (yellow thumbtack), which then made the shortest route the yellow line. The blue line is the actual route taken by Victoria, venturing a bit north at first in search of the best winds, dropping down to make the waypoint, then heading directly for Victoria.

This, then, was an incredibly grueling leg for all of last year's participants.* As you'll see in the video, it starts off simple enough in China in cool but not terribly unreasonable weather. As the voyage progresses and the route heads north, the conditions become challenging, to say the least. I'll leave it to you to discover as you watch the video.

One final note; Victoria broke what had come to be known as the home port curse. Towards the end, as they closed on Victoria, the winds died altogether. They then limped across the finish line in the final scene, slowly, but still in first place.

You'll find this nine minute video here or just watch it below.

*For the '07-'08 edition, we have an Hawaiian stop between Qingdao and Victoria.