Tuesday, 27 March 2007

50 kisses in one hour!



Monday dawned bright and sunny. After a breakfast of bread and homemade apricot compote (apricots taken from the tree just outside my cabin), I made my way down to the pier, to meet Pedro, and three other Chilean tourists (Monique, Veronica, and Oscar, all Psysiotherapists from Santiago who had dreamed of coming to this island for years). We were off snorkellng with the Fur Seals.




In a small boat we headed east hugging the high cliffs. The physios were great company and spoke spiffingly good Queen's English. On the way a fishing boat pulled alongside ours and we were offered freshly grilled fish for elevenies. After sharing the fish, we headed to the fur seal colony. We did two passes, the first we just watched them swimming or lying vertically head down in the water with their rear flippers in the air.



Then it was on with the wet suits, mask and fins and into the water.

It was quite amazing to watch them nimble creatures swimmimg with great ease just in front of my mask. They did not seem bothered by my presence at all. Only once did I feel nervous and this was when a huge male swam past me totally blocking my view temporarily. I thought wow he is a powerful brute.

I then swam closer to the cliffs, as I could see the youngsters were swimming there. This was the right move. They were totally inquisitive, playful and friendly. They would swim right up to my mask, sometimes knocking it slightly, peering at me as I peered at them. I could feel them sliding and jumping over my legs. Their eyes underwater had a violet luminescence, quite beautiful on their cute little faces.

I decided to stop being inert and held out my hand. They would come up to my hand and I could stroke their little heads, feeling their stiff whiskers and their soft ear flaps. Some would take a finger into their mouths and would play bite as a puppy would. Their fur was so soft, and you could feel their body heat.I spent about the best part of an hours with these wonderful animals.



These Fur Seals, an endemic species of Sea Lion, almost became extinct, as their fur was highly prized (Napoleonic hats were made of fur seal). However they survived and since becoming protected have thrived once more.

Island Trek

Sunday dawned somewhat drizzly. This turned out to be advantageous as I decided to hike to the West of San Juan De La Baptiste, which meant climbing a rather steep mountain to start with, and this in the blazing sun would have been tough.
First though I headed through the village to the place where a first world war navel shell is embedded in the lava cliff. This is not the only remnant of the naval battle that took place here, the other lies 100 metres down on the sea floor of the small bay. The German battleship Dresden lies here, having been cornered by three British warships, and scuttled by the German captain (in order to save the lives of his crewmen).

I then headed up through the forest, looking for the path west. It took a while to find, as on two occasions I ended up in somebody's front garden. Once found the path hugged the coast, although the view was just misty and grey. Then it was straight up a sometimes rocky path, sometimes lose cinder stones. As I approached the summit of the hill the weather started to clear fast and at the top I was rewarded with a view of the two massive headlands I had past the day before in the boat from the airstrip.



After a picnic lunch I decided to trek on, up and three valleys in all. The rocks and soil here are a multitude of colours.



Then it was time to hike back, enjoying the views from high up above the sea.

My garden shed was equiped with a kitchen and all utensils so I decided to self cater. Perhaps it was my tuna pasta that attracted Pedro's ginger cat, but from that evening onwards she was always on my lap. Pedro had loaned to me the British author, Diana Soutami's, book on Alexander Selkirk.

The trekking was hard, so it was early to bed, falling asleep to the sound of the waves crashing onto the boulders below on the beach.

Monday, 26 March 2007

Marooned (in a garden shed)

I returned on Friday from the place you have probably not heard of, but you definately have heard of.

Up until 1966 this island, part of the Juan Fernandez archeopeligo, was called Masatierra. After this the island,s name became far more memorable.

Welcome to Robinson Crusoe Island.

Alexander Selkirk was born in Largo, Fife, Scotland in 1680. He was the son of a tanner, and was expected to join his father's trade once he had grown up. Circumstances, however, set him on a very different course. His father once remarked that Alexander's temper would "cause him to lose his life", and certainly his early years were somewhat tempestuous. Aged just 15, he was accused of indecent exposure in his local church, and was duly summoned to appear before church elders for punishment. He never did appear before them. Instead young Alexander made his way to the Forth and joined a ship heading to Central America. The goal of the voyage was to establish on the isthmus of Panama, in the Darien, a Scottish plantation. The voyage was not a success as the Darien is a swampy, jungle infested area, that even today is a significant obstacle to land transportation between Panama and Colombia. However, Alexander quickly learned his seamanship, and returned to Scotland qualified as a ship's master.

At home, trouble hit once more, with a major argument occurring between himself his brother's and his father. Once again as a result, he was called to attend a hearing of the church elders, but once again he fled to sea, rather than endure the public humiliation that awaited him.

He joined the ships St George and the Cinque Ports, under the command of Darmier, the goal being to plunder Spanish shipping in the South Seas. Queen Anne sanctioned their buccaneering voyage, as Britain was at war with Spain and France. The crew were hungry for gold and the riches the Spanish controlled.

The journey to the West coast of South America was not a happy one. Insufficient food and water had been loaded, and what had quickly became rotten and weevil infested. Furthermore the ships condition quickly deteriorated, with the ships timber becoming weakenned by worms. Scurvy broke out amonst the crew and many lives were lost to this mysterious sea bourne disease. The two ships also had very little luck in encountering Spanish galleys, and the crew became increasingly restless. Talk of mutiny was a constant topic.

As ships master Selkirk was very concerned with the state of the ship. He argued with his Captain, Stradling, that the ships should moored up for a long period for repairs to be made and for fresh food and water to be loaded. They headed for the Juan Fernandez islands, discovered in 1574, and stocked by the Spanish with goats, for the purpose of meeting their ships needs. Whilst moored in Cumberland Bay, the disagreements between Selkirk and Stradling reached their peak. Stradling wanted to move on to the coast of Peru quickly, to plunder Spanish shipping, Selkirk argued that the ships were unsafe. In temper, Selkirk demanded to remained on the island. Stradling gave him his wish.

Selkirk expected others to challenge Stradling, but he was mistaken. A boat was arranged to carry him and his sea chest to the beach. He pleaded that he had changed his mind, and would now accept Stradling's leadership. But Stradling was as determined to teach Selkirk and any others who may have displayed disobediancy a lesson.

On the beach he watched as the ship set sail and out of sight. He was marooned and alone. Thinking that the ship would soon return, he remained on the beach, also fearing the dense forest would be full of dangerous beasts. It was beast of one sort that forced him to abandon the shore. The sea lion mating season brought the aggressive males antics. In the forest Selkirk built and hut, learned how to catch goats, and read his bible. Rats plgued him, biting him whilst he slept. To counter these he domesticated ferral cats. These were his only company for four years and four months.

Each day he would climb to his look out, ready to light his beacon if a sail was spotted.

One day he did see a ship, heading directly for his island. He lit his beacon and waited for the ship on the beach. His excitement at the prospect of rescue was high, but was quickly dashed when he realised the ship was Spanish. Capture by the enemy would mean slavery, a fate worse than death, forced to work in silver mines or worse. He fled to the forest, pursued by Spanish sailors. He evaded them by climbing a tree. Once they had gone he found his hut burnt and his few possessions in tatters. He fell intro great despondancy, thinking he would die on this island, receiving no Christian burial, to be eaten by his cats.

His beard grew, his language lost. He became savage at best. But still he maintained a vigil for a hoped for rescue.

The British galley, The Duke, approaching the island, saw his smoke signal, but feared a Spanish garrison. It took days before a boat headed to the shore, where Selkirk welcomed them with roast goat and fresh water and vegtables.

He was at last rescued, by British bucaneers. The ship carried on up the coast of Chile to Peruvian waters to wait on the arrival of the Spanish Manilla galleon. This ship, a great prize, was taken. Selkirk and the crew were overjoyed at the riches they would now share in.

On return to Britain, Selkirk's story quickly became became notorious. It was his story that gave Daniel defoe the idea to write a novel of a castaway on a remote, uninhabited island. The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe quickly became a massive international bestseller.

Alexander Selkirk continued his tempestuous life, marrying two women, and running away back to sea to escape the consequences. He died of yellow fever aged 41 off the west coast of Africa.

My journey to the island was far easier. I flew. It was off and on whether I could travel there. Only at 5pm on the Friday was it confirmed I had a seat on the return flight, and that the weather for Saturday 17th was forecasted as good for a landing on the islands airstrip, and for calm seas (as the airstrip is only linked to the island's one settlement, San Juan de la Bapiste, by and hour and a halves boat ride)



My confirmation of the flight included the mobile telephone number of the pilot, just in case I was delayed in getting to Santiago's airport. The plane I took was a twin engined propeller plane with just four seats. A young family occupied the other three seats, behind us a cargo of wood and other essentials needed by the island 600 strong inhabitants.

The island was swathed in cloud after the two hour flight. The airstrip was located on the far eastern peninsula, in a totally volcanic and stark landscape. We walked 30 minutes down to the boat pier, and headed out of yhe bay in a small fishing boat. The family I journeyed with were islanders returning home. Even though they had lived there for 5 years they still were taking photos of the 300 metre high basalt cliffs.

The boat ride was fantastic as the low clouds lifted to clear skies. Above the cliffs the islands jagged peaks emergeds from the clouds. The island is very small just 23km by 7 at it's widest. The peaks of the island are high, topping 900 metres, and covered in cloud forest, comprising ingigenous plants found no other place. The sound of the sea mixed with the barking of numerous "fur seals", a species of sea lion found no where else.



Arriving in San Juan, I met Pedro, a dive master, returning from a trip with other visitors. He spoke great English and offered me the use of his cabin in his homes garden just above the sea. This was to be my garden shed for the next six nights.

On my birthday I had travelled to one of the world's most off the beaten track destinations. Sitting on the veranda of my hut, sipping Chilean wine, gazing at the twinking southerns stars I was very very happy to be here.

Friday, 16 March 2007

Fish n Chips

Today was a little crazy regarding my hoped for trip to the place you have not heard of, but in fact you have heard of it. The long and the short of it was that first it was on as wanted, then it wasn´t, then maybe the dates would change. One hour ago it was finally confirmed I could travel tomorrow and return Friday next week. I´m am over the moon with excitement. This little trip will be totally different.

I spent the day wandering downtown Santiago. The city looks and feels very European. The people too resemble Europeans with their stylish clothes and calm outlook. The weather today was much hotter than yesterday, so it was on with the cap and suncream. I climbed a small hill, Santa Lucia, in the centre of downtown, just as the noon day gun went off. Wow it was loud, and I jumped out of my skin. Great views over the city from here, although too hazy and smoggy to see the Andes.

As it is my birthday tommorow, and I will be in the back of beyond, I decided to have a slap up lunch. Within the Central Market (Mercado Central), which maily sells fish, are some great seafood restaurants. So at 1pm I headed here to eat under the iron and glass 19th century roof. I ordered what my guidebook said were things that lived in shells but had legs!. I still have no idea of what these were, but there were very tasty. The main course was conger eel. This was served fried with chips. It was a zillion times better than the local chippy. All this was washed down with a few glasses of Chilean Sauvignan Blanc.

After my lunch I did more exploring. It was lovely to get out of the heat in the cool churches. In one there is a statue of Christ that was damaged by an earthquake in the 1600´s, causing Christ´s crown of thorns to slip down to his neck. When they attempted to push it back up, the statue started to bleed. Fearing a massive haemorhage they decided to leave it be.

Tonight I will go downtown for a few beers, there´s an Irish pub and as St Paddy´s is tomorrow it should be fun there.

I will be well out of touch until Friday next week. My destination tomorrow is very very remote, so suspect only satellite phones are usuable there.

Here are a few pics from today.




Thursday, 15 March 2007

Landed!

The journey has now begun, and I have to say the journey was a long one. I am totally totally tired!!

Greetings from Santiago, captital of Chile.

The last few days have been so busy, and to be honest quite stressful. Over the weekend myself and Sam went down to my brother´s. He has been quite ill, and was hospitalised for a dew days. Over the weekend he experienced yelping pain once more and was taken back to the hospital. Tests finally revealed a kidney stone in his ureter. So this put a dampener on the weekend a little, but Sam and Lauren still managed to have great fun bouncing around on the trampoline, and we were able to have Saturday lunch in a great rural pub that serves homegrown and homecooked organic food. I had steak and ale pie. Even the real ale they serve there is organic.

Once back from Berkshire, it was on with the house cleaning and clearing. Given that we live in a "just in time" society, I can confirm myself and Greg were still mopping, dusting, and polishing, ten minutes AFTER we should have set off for Liverpool airport.

All flights were on time, Areolinas Argentinas were fine and I slept well on their smooth transatlantic flight. The flight from Buenos Aires to Santiago was spectacular, and we flew over the area of Aconagua, the highest peak in the Western hemishere. Here´s my first South American pic.




My first impressions of Santiago are very positive. It looks and feels like Madrid or Barcelona. Sections of manicured and watered grass alongside patches of brown scrub, overlooked by the pervasive warm weather smog. Everything seems very efficient, the airport bus was clean and cheap, the roads in great condition, and the city metro far superior to London´s!

Found my hotel and showered before heading back downtown for lunch and a little exploration.

I headed to the Plaza De Armas, dominated by the cathedral facade. For lunch I had a sort of hamburger, although the meat (pork) was roasted and it came with a vast amount of green beans. My goal for the afternoon was to visit the Museum of Pre Colombian Cultures. The exhibits were beautiful, and very well presented and explained. I learned that all of the civilisations that have emerged and then disappeared in South and Central America, over the past five thousand years, have been very much into decapitation, also into paediatric cranial deformation, but none of them had yet to realise the benefit of wearing underpants.

I have made progress on my hoped for visit to the place "you have not heard off, but you have heard of it". I may be going on Saturday, my birthday. Anwers by e mail or text if you can think of where I am heading.

Brother had his procedure to remove the stone yesterday, however the urologist succeeding in pushing it back up to his kidney. Another procedure soon.

Time for bed, well maybe a beer..........Adios amigos!

Sunday, 4 March 2007

Peal O'Bells

We were so lucky last night with the clear skies for the lunar show. This morning it was back to low dark clouds and slashing rain.

Enjoyed a good old fashioned British Sunday roast dinner at the Peal O'Bells pub in Holt with a couple of close friends, who were unable to party with me on Friday night. This was washed down with a pint of very tasty real ale. Boy will I miss pubs and real beers, maybe I should cancel............Maybe not!

Emboldened by my pint I then went over to Mold to call my first quarter peal on 8 bells (only managed up to 6 previously).

Here's the entry in Campanophile (the ringers online database).

Mold, Flintshire
St Mary the Virgin
Sunday, 4 March 2007 in 44mins
1288 Middlesex Bob Triples

1 Abigail McLeod
2 Gregory Morris
3 Elspeth Parry
4 Maryan Jenner
5 Herbert Heaton
6 John R. Williams
7 Clive Culley (c)
8 Fred Miers

-First as conductor on 8 - 7

Rung by a Mold Sunday service band for Evensong as a farewell to Clive Culley who is going to South America for a Year to learn Yorkshire Surprise.
Roger Howes was away that day but would want to be associated with this QP.


Thanks to all my fellow ringers for staying on their blue lines during this nerve wracking 44 minutes, and for not thinking one of my coughs was a bob. Also thanks to Roger for sharing the calling.

A blood red moon








On Friday night I had my leaving party here at home. I don't think I've ever had so many people squeezed into my home! It was great to see everybody and we had a super time. Needless to say the recycling box is now overflowing with the tins and bottles.

Last night was the first lunar eclipse visible in the UK for about three years. As the sun set the clouds disappeared, leaving a beautiful clear, star studded sky. Too good to waste this opportunity to witness this wonderful feat of nature.

Total lunar eclipses were once thought of as harbingers of doom, as the moon, once eclipsed, turns a blood red colour. So where better to head to but World's End and Castell Dinas Bran, above the river Dee valley near Llangollen. Sam, Andy, Phil and myself headed out, in their new camper van, over the mountains towards World's End. We arrived below the castle just as the Earth's shadow took its first bite out of the moon's pearly white face. Hats, backpacks and head torches on, we squelched our way over the muddy fields, constantly watched by the green luminescent eyes of the resting sheep, to climb up to the broken castle.

As we strode up to site above the valley the moon gradually disappeared. Walking around the craggy walls of this atmospheric castle in the dark night was somewhat eerie. As the last of the sunlight slipped off the moon's face, the copper red colour was revealed. A very beautiful and majestic sight.

We cracked open a few remaining tins of ale from Friday's bash and looked up to contemplate our place in the universe. A very different Saturday night, but one to remember.