Go the Bolts!

When I first landed on these fair shores, I thought American football was the woosiest game out. For heaven sake, I'm a Kiwi raised on rugby - 80 minutes a game with only a 10 minute half-time, no padding, no game stoppages unless for injury, pretty much the same 15 players playing for the entire match, non-stop.

And then on the field comes these huge Yankee brutes, wearing tights and long socks and gloves, padded to the hilt, with helmets even, special teams left right and center, four hours of game time, which only really boils down to about 15 minutes in total of actual "play" time, and you get to rest between moves.

And then I started watching this woosy game, particularly College football, and understanding the rules a wee bit better, and getting to recognize a few players, and perhaps even start appreciating the athleticness of those "brutes". Then we moved to San Diego, home for my other half. And thus the Chargers, and SDSU's Aztecs, for which we even had season tickets, became "my" teams. And a few years back, the other half's dad (my father-out-of-law) took me to my first NFL game at Qualcomm Stadium. Not only did we drink a lot of beer, but the atmosphere was quite amazing. And the noise! (Can't even remember if we won or not - not the fault of the beer, I hasten to add.)

And every year now I've avidly watched the season on TV, cheering the Chargers on - groaning when Schottenheimer would make a dud call during the last few minutes of a close game, cheering when LT and Gates and Merriman and Cromartie and Kaeding and all the others did their thing. Waved Drew Brees farewell. And sometimes wishing Rivers had a wee bit more humility... And wondering how on earth could we then get a new coach who had at one time been a coach for the Raiders (and I was taught to "hate the Raiders"!)!

And on Saturday, I didn't see any woosy players as Packers and Sea Hawks fought it out in driving snow, with bare arms.

And yesterday, I had my heart in my mouth as we beat those Mannings - and that's another story in San Diego Chargers' history...

And next weekend we're playing the Patriots (the "cheaters", as they're disparagingly called in San Diego, I learned over Christmas) for a place in the Super Bowl...

Go the Bolts!

08's first paddle

An excellent day out on the water yesterday - temperatures were forecast for around C13 degrees or so (mid-F50s), but it was much warmer, with a clear blue sky. Even had to take my jacket off not two minutes from the put in.

A paddle for three purposes: to shock the heck out of myself with nigh on 20 miles (32kms) to ensure that, yes, indeed, I did need to get my training act together for the upcoming Everglades Challenge - and that sure worked. It was an excellent sail down the lake, and I knew I'd pay for it with headwinds all the way home. Took two hours down, and two-and-a-half back. And my arms were a wee bit weary by the time I hit the beach. So, yes, it's panic mode training levels now.

Second, another test for the SPOT tracker - I'd had it on the top of my PFD, where my strobe normally goes, but that was still not enough line of sight to the heavens. So this time I had it clipped on to the back of the boat. But more on that later. I'm still not 100% convinced that this fun bit of equipment is all that it's cracked up to be, particularly for hikers who are in and out of bush etc.

And, third, a test of the new base I'd bought some months ago for my Pacific Action Sail. Wind pressure had been causing my precious for'deck to implode, thus I'd had to bring the sail feet further aft near the for'ad hatch, where the deck was a bit stronger. With this new base, I can put the sail back in its original position, get a better sail shape, and not worry about my deck. Thoroughly recommend it. You can order them from Greg at Xstreamline on 310-514-9514 - and all up, it's around $90 or so. Greg will ask you for the camber angle on your deck, where the base will sit, and he'll cut the foam to fit - or you can cut it yourself.

All-in-all, an excellent day out. And no pain the next morning.

RIP, Sir Ed

A very, very sad day in New Zealand yesterday. The country's most revered person, Sir Edmund Hillary died, at 88. I cried. Not only has this man personified the epitome of scaling 20th century heights in being the first to summit Everest, and being one of the world's great adventurers in driving a tractor to the South Pole and jet-boating up the Ganges, but he dedicated his life to improving the lives of many Nepali. He even lost his first wife and daughter to the Nepalese mountains.

Nothing I write can give credit to Sir Ed. He leaves a huge hole in many hearts, but will live forever as the epitome of courage and fortitude and plain old good common Kiwi sense for many who know and to come.

May we all knock off our own old bugger.

Back into the groove

Well, hopefully. Happy New Year to you all, folks!

Perhaps that I didn't quite get around to laying any specific New Year resolutions is one reason for a feeling of a little disjointedness. But I'm fairly happily resolved that in this day and age, when so much is buzzing around and you have to pick and chose what really matters, then all you can do is the best you can do for those the most immediate to you. So this will mean continuing to bring home the bacon to provide for my family, to be a fully supportive colleague to those I work with and for, to be the best parent and role model I can for the wee one (now sporting three teeth and last night discovered that being one top and two bottom I can clack them together and scare the hell out of my mums), stay healthy, try and limit myself to at least one glass of wine a night, and to try and get some exercise in. The latter is my big current concern. Running or biking, kayaking or swimming around the neighbourhood used to be a thrumbing passion - now with this wee sprog in the house, that need seems to have been abated. And I have the Everglades Challenge to paddle in seven weeks! Never in all my 46 years have I experienced the ticking clock syndrome - that absolute maternal surety that I needed to give birth and have my own child. I've always been happy to be an aunt (from Guatamala, as my brother tells his kiddies) or a support to girlfriends wanting their own child. Now, perhaps, there's more to my psyche than I had previously thought. I talked about this with SandyBottom when she visited last weekend, being the proud mother of two great young children (and not so much children anymore!). She knew what I meant.

So on we go! On y va! 2008 and beyond!

Christmas cheer

Cheerio for Christmas, folks. I'll be back early in the new year.

It'll be a busy week or so. We fly out back to San Diego way pre-sparrow fart on Sunday to catch up with FliesWithKiwiBird's family. And good friends with their new wee ones are heading in from Homer, San Francisco and Boulder. And our wee one gets to see for the second time this year his great-grand mothers. And it's also his christening, so a bit of everything for everyone.

Hope you remain safe out there, and I look forward to catching up with you all, anon.

I'll leave you with one of NZ's favourite Christmas carols, from Fred Dagg:

We three kings of Orient are
One on a tractor, two in a car
One on a scooter
Tooting his hooter
Following yonder star

Ohhhhhhh
Star of wonder
Star of bright
Star of bewdy, she'll be right
Star of glory, that's the story
Following yonder star.

Just a bit crook

Not too much happening, this end - have been struck with some dreaded lurgey, which has kept me off the water - haven't even had a chance to test the new boat. Have ordered from Ozzie a few new bits of gear for it, though - three new hatches, including the oval fibreglass aft top hatch, a cockpit cover and a spray skirt (or spray cover as the more testosterone-challenged Australasians call them).

We've also been busy with the Christmas festivities, thanking those that have meant a great deal to us this year. Yesterday we hosted the wee one's Little Gym group - great fun having seven or eight wee ones crawling around exploring new toys and territory and big people. Biggest problem was making sure everyone left with the kiddie they arrived with.

And everyone "up north" will be pleased to know that the week-long summer heat wave that hit us collapsed in fine form on Saturday. Hello winter! (Thankgoodness we fly out to San Diego next week...)

She's gone

Hate to see a grown man cry when he has to sell his boat. And I feel honored that I’ll be the one to look after it for him.

Dan has his own fencing business, and like most self-employed folks, times can get tight and boats have to be sold to help pay the rent. I was lucky enough to be first in line to write a cheque out for Dan. Though little did I know that SandyBottom was right behind me, and FliesWithKiwiBird hadn’t quite heard me when I mentioned I was taking the cheque book to work with me that morning…

Dan even delivered the boat to my office yesterday.

Thus I’m now the proud owner of a Mirage 19 to add to the fleet. It’s probably a 1997, when Paul Hewitson was originally making Mirage kayaks in North Carolina. He then took the concept to Australia, and Mirage Sea Kayaks Australia is testament to his excellent reputation today. It was a Mirage kayak Andrew McAuley paddled, and Paul that Andrew worked with to help develop the boat.

Later that evening Dan even sent me the lyrics to Hall & Oates’s lyrics, She’s Gone. I very nearly wept.

She's Gone Oh I, Oh I'd
better learn how to face it
She's Gone Oh I, Oh I'd
pay the devil to replace her
She's Gone - what went wrong

And now I’m in a similar dilemma to SandyBottom, which boat do I use for next year’s Everglades Challenge – the Sisson or the Mirage… Kiwi vs. Ozzie…? Help!

Compass

Just finished reading Alan Gurney’s history of the compass, called, quite rightly, Compass: A Story of Exploration and Innovation (2004).

Well worth the read, Gurney covers the thousand years of events that finally lead to what we now use in all manner of getting from points A to B, blithely unaware of the thousands of lives and ships lost in the pursuit of perfecting this ingenious piece of equipment. And the pure bloody-mindedness in one compass-maker’s assertion over another that his compass was the only one – and it only took many more losses of ships and lives to prove who was finally right.

From lodestone, to dry-card compass, to liquid compass, to gyrocompass – reflected in our own personal lives by the small liquid orb we unerringly trust on the foredeck of our kayaks.

I dip my paddle to those who lives were dedicated to developing what Victor Hugo so sweetly called, “the soul of the ship”.

Skegs: failed rudders...

I’ve been avidly watching Freya's progress around NZ’s South Island, or the “mainland” as the South Islanders like to call it. Keeping up with how her equipment’s coping is always interesting, as with any expedition. One bit of her gear that’s pretty much given up the ghost, and is awaiting replacement, is her skeg. Only a few days into her trip she encountered problems with, what she so colourfully called, “this f*&%^% skeg”.

I’ve often wondered at this archaic European (read: British), and somewhat also American, fixation for a skeg, as someone (Kiwi) once called “a failed rudder”. They often go wrong and the skeg box takes up valuable room in the aft hatch.

As naval architect John Winters notes, “because a rudder can develop greater lift by increasing the angle of attack relative to the flow, it is more effective than a skeg.”

Many of my local paddling pals have skegs, and are always tut-tutting at rudder users, mainly complaining that we have none of the skills necessary to paddle without a rudder. Pshaw! That’s near the same mentality that had the British struggling in their amateur way towards the South Pole, decrying those who did have the correct gear and experience for the job. Many rudder users started off with skegs, and dutifully learned those skills. Now that many of us have upgraded to rudders, we can appreciate the benefits that a rudder can add to the kayaking experience, particularly on an expedition-type trip with rough and windy conditions.

As Paul Caffyn explained, having completed circumnavigations of New Zealand, Australia, Ireland, the UK, Japan and this year part of Greenland, he averaged 31 miles per day in kayaks with no skeg or rudder, 34 miles per day in kayaks with skegs, and 39 miles per day in kayaks with rudders.

I’m sure that Freya will have noticed around the coast of NZ, that all the Kiwi boats which join her for a few hours have rudders. This isn’t because Kiwi paddlers don’t have skeg-only-related skills, it’s because they know what’s best for the tough conditions the NZ coastline and weather throws at them. Justine and Barry will also find this. Give them their credit, the Ozzies feel just the same – Laurie Ford is a true rudder proponent, refining them now for nigh on 30 years for his local Tassie conditions.

Just like summer

Amazing day out on the lake today - not a breath of wind, with temperatures at 22C (72F). I mean, this is supposed to be nearing the darkest days of winter, and here we are, bang in the middle of a heat wave. Even more surprisingly, tomorrow's forecast is for 25C (77F), and it's going to be like that for the rest of the week. Not four days ago I was wiping ice rain from my front windscreen.

Didn't even bother dressing for immersion - think I would have passed out.

SandyBottom was also out there, doing a 20-miler to the dam and back, but our paths didn't cross.

I'm starting to feel a bit guilty with my blogger pals waaay up north feeling the real pain of winter.

So to make up for my guilty pleasure, the motor went on the back window of the '92 4-Runner, which means I can't open the back door. At least it happened upon returning to my put-in and not before. I'm trying to figure out whether this is something I can fix myself, having just spent three hours earlier this week replacing a side lamp and front main headlamp - taking the grill right off, which I swear has never been done from when the car was originally built, and unbolting the main lamp took most of the time. But at 171,000 miles, I'll let it run to the ground - it's a great means of transport.