The sea

Off Wave Break Island QLD

"The Sea, Once it cast its spell holds one in its net of wonder forever."

Jacques Cousteau, 1910 - 1997

Away a while

I am back from a right-brain hiatus. The left-brain kind of, well, became a big power suit bully and took over.

Boring.

There is only one thing that an out of control left-brain respects, and that is a bit, reins, saddle and crop. And the will to wield it!

So after a week of doing right-brained exercises I believe this cowgirl has got it under control. Plus I stole flowers, well kind off, from this open garden.

Well sort of public space really.

Anyway I am really reallysorry.

I promise to repent....

....later as I am drinking a cocktail.

Walking in the Mist

Last night we went on a late walk with the pups. 

It was about 8 degrees so despite the photos- not snowing.

There was so much moisture in the air that under photo flash it showed as an other-worldly mist.

Stephen King wrote a short story "The Mist" . It tells the tale of a hapless town set upon by a mist cloaking over-sized -and rather hungry for human flesh-  arachnids.  Despite my poor precis is it worth a visit.

The power of the written word! I read this in 1984, and I still stepped a little cautiously through the unseen last night.

The magic of Eurovision Song Contest

I recently hosted a little get together to view and celebrate all things Eurovision on Semi-final 2 night of Eurovision Malmo 2013.

Australia has long had a love affair with the Song Contest, partly because we appreciate the camp and superciliousness of the event. It is no coincidence that Priscilla Queen of the Desert was an Australian movie. While there is much that is backward about us, we love the sexually ambiguous, particularly when paired with a key change, the mullet dress, wind machine and sequins.

So for an example of what Eurovision can deliver her is  5 of my favourites, sit back and enjoy:

5/ Ukraine 2007 Verka Serduchka- Dancing Laska Tumbai, purely for the disco ball headdress

4/ Azerbaijan 2008 Elnur and Samir- Day after Day, good versus evil

3/ Greece 2004 Sakis Rouvas - Shake It, first he undresses his dancers....

2/ Ukraine 2004- Ruslana- Wild Dance, she really commits

1/ Norway 2012 Tooji- Stay, boy in a hood

To all my gorgeous girlfirends....

"Why did you do all this for me?' he asked. 'I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.' 'You have been my friend,' replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing."

Extract from Charlotte's Web, E.B. White

Did it, loved it

Many people have asked me about those I paddled the Sale to Sea with, and before I went on this trip I thought I would return and write about them.

But now sitting and talking about my own motivations and experience is so personal that I cannot share their story without their permission, so you will have to be content with mine and one of my new paddling buddy's Sue-Ann who kindly shared her story below......

My story

It has been a few weeks now since I returned home from the Sale to Sea Challenge.

In many ways I have been a little daunted by the task of writing to you all about my experience. It was both an intensely personal and incredibly overwhelming experience and the combination for me has made expression challenging.

I took up the challenge for several reasons (see previous story "Sale to Sea Challenge 2013"). But in my previous piece I omitted the major reason. So here it is.

I have Endometriosis. I have been quite unwell and I would say there were several years of my life when every single day was affected, and at it's worst the simple act of standing upright was impossible. I am happy to say that for the last 3 years for the most part I have been very well.

Back to the reason.....Being unwell robs you of the joys of life. And you can get a little habitualised to feeling sick and staying idle. I grew used to the fact I did not feel good and accepted that perhaps I had to be more sedentary. I gave in.

So who is in charge here? Lisa or Endo? I was not sure, and needed something to shake me out of the funk. Perhaps being amongst those that have much greater daily challenges than me might provide that wake up call I needed.

Here is a lesson I have learned- if want to change you have to leap.

I was nervous at the Port of Sale, for what I understand now to be all the right reasons. I was under prepared and
I knew it. Fortunately fear of failure has never stopped me trying so I managed to get into the kayak and try anyway.

The first day was an epic 48 kms, across formidable Lake Wellington. She did not keep us holding our breaths for long and due to my inexperience I had to use my rudder when the wind increased (a skilled paddler will not require this). When the rudder line failed I had to jump on board a support boat, the first of several humbling experiences. I was not able to dwell in my disappointment for long as the support boat crew were so lovely, and there was so much going on in the water with several other kayakers experiencing difficulty and needing help.

I made it most of the way on that first day, I guestimate around 40 kms. That night at the hands of volunteer massage crew, I was told I had a muscle 'out' in my left forearm. The putting back of that muscle left the upper part of my forearm black for two weeks and a cocktail of Voltaren and Ibuprofen took the edge of the pain.

Sleep was an evasive bastard that night. Ants decided my face, ears, neck were all fascinating while I attempted to sleep, after crawling onto my bags when I had pitched my tent earlier. In total I estimate I had around 2 hours. So by the morning I was pretty low.

That morning, down Maclellan Straits to Hollands Landing was one of the harder things I have done in my life. Having the support boats beside me, it would have been easy to give in, much like I had capitulated to Endo time and time again. So for a few crazy hours the boats were manifestation of my illness, and I thought to myself, you want to get on board that boat, take the easy way out, or stay on the water?

I made it that day, and that was my greatest achievement. I felt a million bucks coming into Paynesville, not just the distance of 41 kms conquered.

I was a slow paddler, tending to be amongst the last few in at the close of each day. But I did feel I was a winner, and being such a competitive person this is a surprising assessment.

A huge thank you goes out to the support crew for Sale to Sea 2013, the committee, and my fellow paddlers. While I won't talk about you specifically here I want you to know that you each helped me put my small troubles into perspective. You in a sense gave me back something I had stupidly given away. You re-invigorated the fighter in me.

I won't be so keen to give it up a second time. Cheers to you all, my winning fiends.
_______________________________________________________________________________________


Sue-Ann's story

Dean, one of my PT clients always talked about going kayaking and one day asked me if I like to go out kayaking with him.

So in Dec 2012 I went on my first paddle and loved it.  Dean was talking about the Sale to Sea and how much fun they had last time, that I decided to join in. So a month before the challenge I bought a kayak.

The day before I was very nervous, as I had only met a couple of people that were going to do the challenge.

The morning of, I was very excited.

Day 1: I started off up the front next to the boat, by halfway through day two, I felt I was missing out on the conversations with other kayakers, so I then spent time mixing with all the kayakers and listening to their stories. It was from that moment that I loved the whole experience. There were so many interesting people with amazing stories to tell.

Everyone one helped out everyone and it was an amazing group to be a part of. It was great to see so many different people striving to achieve their own personal goals. I felt quite trivial in the big picture.

Out of this experience I have made several new friends with similar interest.

Flying and walking

"He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying."

Friedrich Nietzsche

Sale to Sea- packing

After a very tense fortnight, imagining all sorts of disappointing scenarios, I am finally packing for the big week.

With a smile on my face, and a normal pulse rate.

I say tense because I had a person indicate to me that I would not make the distance and I was not training enough. Suffice to say the words must have acted on some sort of level, and despite being a confident person in general I began to have irrational self doubt. The sort that can really destroy strong mental preparedness.

Having said all that, I am most certainly unsure how I will go across such distances as we will attempt particularly in the first two days (Wednesday 48 kms, Thursday 40 kms). But it is one thing to be open to the fact that a goal should be shifted from "I will get to the end' to "I will have a rockin time" and another for you to expect not to make it. This is what negative dialogue does to mental preparedness.

And so I reflect on the reason why I am participating in the first place.

Imagine a world where every day people focus on what you can't do rather than what you can. Imagine that the physical world around you (sidewalks, shops), people around you (those that pass you with a wide berth, or look disparagingly or worse with pity) all tell the same story. You can't do that, you can't come in here. You don't belong.

This is what some people with a disability face every day of their lives.

Frankly, that is all BS. Large stinking piles of it. We, meaning all of us, can do something if we put our mind to it. And even if we don't succeed in that way we should bloody well be given the encouragement to try. The Sale to Sea challenge is an opportunity for people of all abilities to try and that is a blessed thing.

So thanks to all my beautiful friends who responded to my request to send me quotes that inspire them. I have compiled a double sided laminated board that will sit in the deck pocket of my kayak. Like a little pulsing positive energy source! I have not used everyone's offerings, but I certainly read all of them, and in combination there was some healing power helping me to erase the stupid off the cuff comments of someone who didn't realise their own toxicity.

To trying, and seeing what happens next! See you on the other side, this chick is off paddling.

Sale to Sea Challenge 2013

Photo courtesy of Rohan at East Coast Kayaking

In a few short days I and many others will embark on a marvellous challenge, to kayak 120 kilometres from the Port of Sale to Lakes Entrance in Victoria across 4 days.

The event is called Sale to Sea and is a kayak challenge for people of all abilities.The event also raises money for Limbs4life, and for those living with disabilities, some who want to attend the next Paralympic Games.

I came to know about the challenge as a school friend, Mary spoke about the event and her wishing to participate in celebration of her beautiful daughter. Was there someone out there who wanted to come?

Hell yeah, that was all the encouragement I needed. Who would not want to paddle with a group of people, all wanting to enjoy the beauty of the Gippsland Lakes? I should explain that not having been in a sea kayak or having any concept of the skill involved was no barrier, I just said yes, the detail I would work out later I reasoned. Sometimes you just have to jump......

For all particpants the challenge will be exactly that- a personal challenge. I know that I will struggle with the distance having tested my endurance only to 20 kilometres and being at novice level. I am hopeful my enthusiasm will compensate for a lack of technique. But for me this is more about hanging out with like minded people who appreciate the value of life and feel a tremendous sense of wonder when in the natural world. All this in an organised event run by Andrew Bedggood and Sale to Sea leaders who understand safety and have every contigency in place.

So I signed up for a Sea Starter course with East Coast Kayaking. Simon and Peter my instructors were fabulous and even in the first couple of hours I was racking up mental tips to help me sort out the bad habits I had so quickly developed. Then I jumped into Beyond Basics with East Coast a week later and a trip with instructors Rohan and Raia from Mushroom Reef to Gunnamatta Beach. And it was on this trip that I realised the distance I was about to attempt. Insert healthy dose of respect!

So while I passionately hope that I make the distance and can motivate others to, for me the real goal is to breathe, and immerse myself in this amazing treasure in our backyard. I want to re-connect and hopefully life will slow down and simplify for four blissful days and I will find myself smiling and surprised by what I can achieve.

I will keep you posted!


"The cure for anything is salt water- sweat, tears or the sea." Isak Dinesan

We push on

It has been a difficult week.

I know it has because I feel as if there is a rock sitting in the pit of my gutt, wishing it would pass, knowing it will and trying to be patient.

It has to become a stone and then a pebble and then a grain of sand, and therefore not such a load to carry.



"What lies behind you and what lies in front of you, pales in comparison to what lies inside of you."
Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet 1803- 1882

Looking forward

The close of a year and start of the next always makes me vaguely nostalgic.

There is a little reflection on world events, some personal tragedies and triumphs and inevitably a statement along the lines of 'I will find the time to do more next year'.

And that is about as close as I come to making a New Year's Resolution.

In fact I have never made one...oh...that is a lie, there was a half hearted attempt at not swearing which failed at about 4am on New Year's Day.

So it is always a surprise to me that so many people do. Research suggests that around 45% of the population start the New Year with one or more resolutions.

For some it is an opportunity to clean the slate and set a goal that will change their life for the better, others prefer to be more...whimsical. I asked some brave friends to share what they were looking forward to in 2013.

Wendy- "I am looking forward to being challenged at work in a new role."

Jack- "I will not ask google everytime I have a question. I will try and figure it out myself."

Peter- "I want do less laundry and use less deodarant, and keep my girlfriend."

Deanne- "To find my inner athlete."

Mary- "I look forward to completing the Sale to Sea (Kayak Challenge) and being more present in the moment."

Linda- "I want a balance: life, children,work."

Claire- "I will stop having an affair with chocolate and go on a date with a man."

And me, well in the spirit of trying new things....here is mine.

I look forward to, with those keen to join in, much more self propelled play time in the great outdoors, oh and not being embarassed to wear lycra in public.
Happy 2013. May it be your year.

To be lost to the flow of the river

"Study how water flows in a valley stream, smoothly and freely between the rocks. Also learn from holy books and wise people. Everything - even mountains, rivers, plants and trees - should be your teacher."

Morihei Ueshiba, 1883-1969

The Toller scream

Chris decided fishing was in order and the subsequent serenity that comes when the line in cast into the blue and the fisherman can sit and ponder nothing or something.

For those who do not know the Toller screams when excited. While Smudge does not quite get into the full scream (below) she in definitely warming up.

Chris can be seen on the rocks trying to find that serenity.

Kayaking on Cup Day

I would like to be sipping a glass of champagne on cup day, but my little red Dancer has not been out on the water for 4 weeks. Too long!

With support crew in tow (husband and Smudge with lunch packed) we travelled to Fairfield to a small canoe entry point. I then paddled upstream on the Yarra River past Fairfield Boathouse towards Clifton Hill Boathouse. I never quite made it all the way, too many things to stop and see (and arms leaden and needing a break). 

I did have a Huckleberry Finn moment while looking at this pontoon, imagining drifting off down the river chased by Injun Joe. My head is thoroughly stuck in books.

This Coot was very tolerant of me siddling up to it's makeshift nest on a fallen tree that was half across the river.

After 45 minutes I came upon the Grey-headed Flying Fox colony at Yarra Bend Park. They are incredibly noisy and I spent some time gazing into the trees watching them chatter to each other. There was a storm approaching so despite being 2:30 in the afternoon they were moving around quite a bit. These little guys have a conservation status of 'vulnerable' and are crucial for regeneration of native hardwood forests as they feed they disperse seeds around the forest.

It was not all wonderous with an ugly reminder of how plastic bags never quite leave us. Reason to always remember to take green bags!

Play list - road trip

Soon I will be heading North up the coast, with husband, dog and camper trailer for that wonderful pared back life that is camping.

What better music for the first road trip of the summer?

1. Van She - Jamaica (right)
2. No Doubt - Underneath it all
3. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Heads will roll
4. Bombay Bicylce Club - Always like this
5. Metronomy - The Bay

Bubbles

Bubbles are a girl's best friend. Smudges prefers this way, I prefer mine bottled and French.

Either way there is fun to be had.

Stickwork

An amazimg scuplture at Federation Square, Melbourne.

Stickwork by Patrick Dougherty

Flight of the Warrior Chapter 14 - The last adventure

The old lady lived in the castle complex of Tsurugajo near the port. It was her duty to go down to the shore well before sunrise to give the fishermen her predictions.

It was common for the area to be cloaked in a blanket of snow this time of year and this morning was no different. She woke and covered her aging joints in layers before climbing slowly up the staircase of the west tower. From here she could listen and feel the coming of the day's weather. She also received other messages that were unrelated to weather but she kept those to herself. They were meant for her. They were private.

She had been excited for some days prior as she expected the arrival of a red headed girl. This girl would want to speak with her, perhaps learn her skills. The thought of a visitor, one she could talk to about the old ways lifted her spirits. In fact, for a while there she had thought about picking up her swords and running through some basic motions. But she was in her seventies and the bones were more fragile than she hoped, the muscles hung loosely on her frame and she limped badly from an old injury. Adventure seemed a thing of the past.

This morning she was anxious. Arriving at the top of the tower staircase she took a moment to catch her breath before opening the crude door. She could feel bad news before she went outside, it seemed to be seeping through every small opening in the door frame.

Being centred and alert was important. The wind would deliver much to her particularly in the first few moments atop the turret. She had to be ready and focus on what she needed. It was very much, she imagined, like a mother who walks into a room full of her children, all yelling at her, pulling at her kimono, demanding that she listen to them and not their brother or sister. Except she had no children of her own.
Once she reached the centre of the small turret, the wind whirling around her head, she closed her eyes to draw her concentration to the fore. Opening her eyes they glowed red and she could see the messengers cloaked in smoke racing through the air, some black menacing and wild, others white and joyous. She waited for a moment till she saw it, and opened her arms inviting. Several messengers trailing black smoke made vain attempts to crash into her but she was too quick and she slapped them away with a carefully placed movement of her hand. They held what she did not care to hear, the threat of war, the coming of the Mongols. There would be time to know the details before the invasion. A moment later she welcomed the messenger she was looking for, grey smoke passing through her body.

She retreated inside. The girl was not coming, she was fleeing the man who had attacked her. She was stuck in a place and trying to call a stranger to help her. And the worst news, Nakano was trying to find her, and he had picked up her trail of jasmine on the wind.

She sat on the first step trying to make sense of it all. This was bad indeed. She had only been able to do so much to keep Nakano away from the girl. She had convinced him in a dream that he needed to go South to pick up the fees he was owed. That if he didn't war would come and he may never see the money. He must strengthen his ties to the nobility of the South, too much time had passed since his last visit. He had taken too many women, there had been too much pleasure and not enough work. He would pay for this. The God of War would not be happy.

There was little she knew she could do to stop him once he was hunting the girl. His passion once flamed would not dim till he found her.

But the girl was not ready, not prepared. She was a warrior yes, and she had some natural talents. Like all warrior women she was proud and strong, but she lacked knowledge that would unlock her skills. That is where Tomoe would come in, she would be the girl's teacher. The girl must not perish, there were too little of her kind around anymore. So few were born with the gift.

So perhaps she would have to go to the girl. As old and frail as she was, she would need to travel, and  to teach the girl in less time than she would probably need. The question was how was she going to get to her before Nakano did? Perhaps she should break her silence and send the girl a message to warn her somehow.

The daimyo would never let her leave for an extended period because of the warnings she provided the fishermen were important to the livelihood of all the villagers. But it was not uncommon for her to go out on the boats from time to time. She would use this as her way to escape. She would ask a local fisherman, a trusted member of her family to take her to the island of Sadogashima where she would have the girl meet her. It was further north for her, but according to the messages she had received was west of the girls location, away from Nakano who was coming from the east. No time to waste.

Getting up as quickly as her tired body would let her, she returned to the turret. Standing in the centre again she drew her concentration inward. Her eyes blazed red, and a mist fell around her. She raised her hands to the sky and the mist turned to rainclouds, the wind increasing in speed her garments billowing around her legs. In a swift motion, her hands came together in a soundless clap and the clouds shot off to the Northeast, racing like thoroughbreds through the sky. Every messenger in its path cleared the way.

Returning inside she did not pause to rest, but continued down the stairs. With each step the list of questions grew. She wondered where the stranger fit into all this? She wondered if she had the energy for the voyage? But most of all she wondered if her message would reach the girl before Nakano did.

Where I write...think...

This is my little creation space. Not work space.

It has been a lonely spot since Dash died, but Smudge and I are now back in the habit of sitting here again and pondering our human and canine navels.

Smudge alternates between being close to my chair and out on the small deck when the door is open.

Flight of the Warrior Chapter 13 - Hunting

Once he knew in which direction to find her, he urged the black horse a little faster. The beast seemed to have a reserve of energy that was boundless, in fact like a demon itself. It was well capable of the speeds he demanded of it.

When he first came upon the horse it was wild and crazed, having been shot by a bow through the flank. He was unsure at first if he wanted to catch and treat the animal but somehow he had been drawn to do so.

Following the hapless creature for two days, keeping a short distance, he was able to close the gap slowly. Each time he moved marginally and then sustained the distance for another hour, moving only when the horse was comfortable. Eventually he was able to lay a hand on the nose of the thing and with some coaxing remove the arrow.

He enjoyed riding in preference to flying, even though he made slower progress. Atop this preternatural mount he felt more powerful somehow. He certainly had experience of coming upon a battlefield and men and horse alike fleeing from his charge. The black horse would set back its bat like ears, lower its neck and charge with such force that a tremendous wind tunnel was created, making it hard for enemies to stand steady. This provided him with the opportunity to relieve a man of his head.

He smiled at the memory. It was diabolical splendour.

He knew that war was coming, a new threat from across the seas. This did not displease him, but was simply a potential new source of income. A ronin for hire in times of unrest was never without currency.

He was however, concerned that the advent of war may come sooner than expected. He hoped for at least a week with his little Toraneko, to teach her he was her master. Not only did she provide him with physical delectation, he felt there was more to discover. There was much he wanted to know, and he would make her tell him.  How was it that she could fly, or know how to manage the short sword she had some skill in wielding? And more than that, what else did she know?

There was predictability in his daily life, but with her, there was the unknown. A new type of entertainment awaited him. There for his taking.

The little fool had left a trail. He had picked up the scent playing on the wind without too much difficulty but he was perplexed by the direction it was taking him. First the ravine into which he had to fly, and then to the hilltop where a bare hut sat abandoned. He saw the disturbance in the snow where a body had flailed about, and then the trail went cold. He had spent valuable time absorbed in the patterns in the snow. Could two people have made these marks? If so, who was the second person? The man he had seen at the hut? A mentor who had taught her some of the skill necessary to be a warrior? In any case he needed to be on his guard.

It took some time focussing on countless whispers on the wind before he found the one he sought and recommenced the hunt. He was headed to the coast, maybe two days ride between him and the open sea. One day if he flew. He contemplated his options and decided to ride till nightfall, rest, then fly the remaining distance. By then he would know exactly where she had fled.

And where it was he would capture her a second and final time.