Click on the link to be directed to the boat´s most recent location.
http://share.findmespot.com/shared/faces/viewspots.jsp?&glId=0EM90M9z0UDpcgjFBi8lqHIerbDuk3yhe
We should be in Acapulco for 2-3 days.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
My Clothes are Salty
There are things you miss as a land lubber that become quite apparent at sea. For one, the Earth is round. One can note this by observing that bright city lights sink into the ocean as you go away from them at night. The Moon rises more swiftly than one might imagine and can actually startle you as it appears on the horizon. This phenomena is hard to notice in the Northwest where the horizon is obscured big ugly snow capped mountains and fetid evergreen trees. For a brief moment the Moon is actually shorter than you and if you catch it at just the right time you can stare it down without looking up and say ¨Dude! Not cool! You scared the crap out of me¨. In addition dolphins are amazing and are hard to photograph as they jump, Sea Turtles look like floating cow pies, dead Sea Turltes smell like floating cowpies, and flying fish want out of the ocean so badly that they tend to commit suicide on the deck of one´s boat.
Humans behaivior is interesting to observe at sea as well. It´s amazing what sleep deprivation, isolation, and stress can do. These three factors combine so thatI was completely unable to operate the video function on my camera to get footage of my dad singing and waiving to the dolphins off the bow of the boat. That caliber of paternal novelty is typically unseen.
Our winds have been slow and on the nose so most of my journey from Panama City to Acapulco has known only 24 hours of continuous motoring. It doesn´t sound so amazing until you factor in shifts of 4hrs on and 8 hrs off, temps in the 90s ,and that your bedroom has the biggest diesel engine you´ve ever seen in it. I like it. It makes you feel like you´re on a mission.
As hard as it is to be away from my life in Seattle its good to know that I am here helping my dad and Judith get the boat home and have fun doing it. I´ve promoted myself to Chief Stress Management Officer which involves back rubs, yoga lessons, and constant emotional check-ins. I think these things combined with the intergallactic crew we have right now is doing the trick.
Still and all I do miss Laura, Seattle, showers, dogs, and the third trimester of Carey Christie´s pregnancy. Not having any money begins to weigh too. In the extensive down time that exists I have decided to fully embrace my nature as boredom prone and make the search for novelty my chief project. Current means: hip stretches, yoga for uneven and moving surfaces, the guitar, staying hydrated, charting meteorlogical and astrological data, and making lists. Here´s two now.
Current Tallies:
-shooting stars in an evening: 17
-Sailfish: 1
-approximate difference in sunset time per day as we move north: 15 minutes
-retrieved messages in bottles:1
-Beers with Dad: 22
-Deserts made with one rum bottle: 3
Current linguistic obsessions:
-When life gives you chickens you make mayonaise
-Acapulco + Pull tabs = Acapulltabs
-Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oy, Oy, Oy!
Humans behaivior is interesting to observe at sea as well. It´s amazing what sleep deprivation, isolation, and stress can do. These three factors combine so thatI was completely unable to operate the video function on my camera to get footage of my dad singing and waiving to the dolphins off the bow of the boat. That caliber of paternal novelty is typically unseen.
Our winds have been slow and on the nose so most of my journey from Panama City to Acapulco has known only 24 hours of continuous motoring. It doesn´t sound so amazing until you factor in shifts of 4hrs on and 8 hrs off, temps in the 90s ,and that your bedroom has the biggest diesel engine you´ve ever seen in it. I like it. It makes you feel like you´re on a mission.
As hard as it is to be away from my life in Seattle its good to know that I am here helping my dad and Judith get the boat home and have fun doing it. I´ve promoted myself to Chief Stress Management Officer which involves back rubs, yoga lessons, and constant emotional check-ins. I think these things combined with the intergallactic crew we have right now is doing the trick.
Still and all I do miss Laura, Seattle, showers, dogs, and the third trimester of Carey Christie´s pregnancy. Not having any money begins to weigh too. In the extensive down time that exists I have decided to fully embrace my nature as boredom prone and make the search for novelty my chief project. Current means: hip stretches, yoga for uneven and moving surfaces, the guitar, staying hydrated, charting meteorlogical and astrological data, and making lists. Here´s two now.
Current Tallies:
-shooting stars in an evening: 17
-Sailfish: 1
-approximate difference in sunset time per day as we move north: 15 minutes
-retrieved messages in bottles:1
-Beers with Dad: 22
-Deserts made with one rum bottle: 3
Current linguistic obsessions:
-When life gives you chickens you make mayonaise
-Acapulco + Pull tabs = Acapulltabs
-Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oy, Oy, Oy!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Back in the Saddle Again!
Habitual readers may know that I am not lost in Vietnam as my posts would indicate but in fact found my way home to Seattle quite well. Just in time for a late blooming Seattle summer too. Those perfect skies and floofy clouds and whiskey swilling friends were just the tonic I needed to counteract the affects that four months of humidity, tonal langueages and Tuk Tuk drivers can rack up on one´s body and mind. Steping into SeaTac airpot was sweet perfume for this tired soul.
As circumstances would have it, my arrival in Seattle coincided with my father´s arrival in Panama with his undercrewed boat. He purchased ¨Cheeky¨ in the great lakes and was in the act of sailing south and unfortunately his volunteer crew had to leave. Out goes the call to the son and I´m back in equatorial climates for the time being writing to you all from an internet kiosk on the Pacific side of the Panama canal. Please send temperate weather, hummous, and sarcasm.
Today we kicked an Antiguan gentleman, Speed, off the boat for being a combination of Bipolar, bossy, an alcoholic, high on shore and just plain rude and creepy. Short and sweet for now.
As circumstances would have it, my arrival in Seattle coincided with my father´s arrival in Panama with his undercrewed boat. He purchased ¨Cheeky¨ in the great lakes and was in the act of sailing south and unfortunately his volunteer crew had to leave. Out goes the call to the son and I´m back in equatorial climates for the time being writing to you all from an internet kiosk on the Pacific side of the Panama canal. Please send temperate weather, hummous, and sarcasm.
Today we kicked an Antiguan gentleman, Speed, off the boat for being a combination of Bipolar, bossy, an alcoholic, high on shore and just plain rude and creepy. Short and sweet for now.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Let Saigons be Saigons or This Entry is for My Parents
Back when Tanya Harding was in her trial, in which she was convicted of conspirciacy to be a totaly coniving selfish waste, she had a shirt with the words "no comment" printed on the front that she wore to exit the court room. Entering Saigon one wishes for a similar item perhaps with a message like "No boom boom", "No smoke smoke", or " Khong mua (no buy)". I am hopelessly adverse to complaining, so I won't, but let's make a list of positives, shall we?
-Saigon makes me appreciate Bangkok more.
-Saigon taught me that at times I'm willing to physically threaten/curse at children under six.
-I learned to clutch things that I do not want stolen by scooter bandits.
-Asking the price for anything, even a seeming act of goodwill or piece of advice is a good idea.
-Calling women "Mama" who are over 40 makes them laugh and like you.
-Calling women "Mama" who are under forty invites scorn and somehow makes the eggs they serve you exceptionally runny.
In short, I am pleased to have moved north away from Saigon. I've been several places of varying degrees of interestingality and am now in my own little slice of heaven called Hoi An*. Its Vietnamese independence day(s) now. The holiday was originally designated to celebrate freedom from French rule but has come to also refer to freedom from Japan and the "American Imperialists". The resentement I felt for my mere existence in Saigon is flipped two and a half times around topsy-turvy into profound instant brotherhood by the following exchange which one can have as often as one wants during this holiday.
VN: "Hello! My friend! You buy something. Where you from?"
Ben: " Hello, My friend! U.S.A.........Amerigah"
VN: "Awhhhhhhhhhh" (It is difficult is ascertain the emotion behind this response)
Ben: "Happy Independence Day!"
VN: (Insert knowing eye twinkle here with handshake and hug) " Good! Good! You drink Beer!"
It was several exchanges like this and the friendliness of my traveling companion, Swiss Frog leg fiend, Lionel that led to my gaggle and I being invited to an all male karoake and Saigon Red binge. I'll admit, its weird to be invited straight from the beach to roll 5km in a scooter posse to a private karoake room with a bunch of lit Vietnamese. Red flags with names like "Rufees" , "Theft" and "Extortion" come to mind but luckily they were no match for the green light called "These guys are rad and insist that we don't pay for a thing". After a bit I started miming the action of drinking just not to insult my hosts and still manage to walk out under my own power.
I guess I'm writing about this experience not because I wish to relate a unique moment of international brotherhood but more as another resume point in my ever expanding file of why I have more kaorake mojo than Miss Betsy Morris. My oeuvre now includes my Khmer new year Korean Hip Hop freestyle rap in Sihanoukville Cambodia, Three spot on Vietnamese duets, Feliz Navidad in three languages, and the fact that I still rock "Hit Me with Your Best Shot" harder than she can.
Self-aggrandizement aside, the spirt of the Vietnamese is starting to come through to me more clear. As an American I cannot help but admire a people that says "NO!", "Hell NO!, and "Fucking Helllllll No!" to multiple groups of invaders per century. Who cares if they are communist, socialist, or capitalist they are definitely not defeatist. I toured the Cu Chi tunnels and during a 15 m, 45 second crouched walk/crawl under 5m of packed clay I was overcome by the fear of pitch black, being lost, claustrophobia and was instantly covered in buckets of sweat and dust. I wanted out and was scared and I wasn't even fighting a war against vastly more well equipped invaders.
The best part of the Cu Chi tunnel memorial/museum are the traps, usually a variation on the theme of poisoned bamboo spikes in a whole covered with leaves. I think I'd rather trip a claymore than fall into one of these and be left to bleed to death . The amazing part to me was the mural depicting bumbling American G.I.'s stumbling into the things. I wish I had a picture of the mural because only would a people who had an immense hatred for the people destroying their country would depict such graphic brutality inflicted on white people dressed in drab olive fatigues in a museum. I'm sure every brush stroke was filled with delight.
Weird feeling. The whole "Happy Independence day" brotherhood phenomenon and the Saigonese** "You may be a tourist in this town but we don't owe you shit and if I want more of your money I'm going to lie to your face, change the agreed price and feign monolingulism" phenomenon makes for an interesting travel experience. Makes me respect my parents more. They spent something like six years hear. My mom lived in Saigon while my dad flew things. I was impressed by the beach shells in the shitty resort town of Mui Ne so I grabbed a handfull of the spirally pink and purple ones and will clean them, split them 50/50 and send them home. My mom will get hers is about 3 weeks and my dad will get his in about 3 months when he gets back from sailing his new boat from Lake Michigan, up the Saint Lawerence River, down to Bermuda, through the Panama canal, up the west coast and home to Friday Harbor in Washington. Go Dad. I'm proud of you.
I want both of them to have something beautiful from this country that I can only imagine caused them so much pain.
p.s. I g-chatted with my mom and she said that I was the last of her kids to make it to Vietnam. I am grateful to have the good fortune to be able to choose the right time to come here.
*Note to Jeff Larson. Hoi an is an anagram for Hanoi.
**Now Ho Chi Minh City of course. I use the old word for poetic continuity.
-Saigon makes me appreciate Bangkok more.
-Saigon taught me that at times I'm willing to physically threaten/curse at children under six.
-I learned to clutch things that I do not want stolen by scooter bandits.
-Asking the price for anything, even a seeming act of goodwill or piece of advice is a good idea.
-Calling women "Mama" who are over 40 makes them laugh and like you.
-Calling women "Mama" who are under forty invites scorn and somehow makes the eggs they serve you exceptionally runny.
In short, I am pleased to have moved north away from Saigon. I've been several places of varying degrees of interestingality and am now in my own little slice of heaven called Hoi An*. Its Vietnamese independence day(s) now. The holiday was originally designated to celebrate freedom from French rule but has come to also refer to freedom from Japan and the "American Imperialists". The resentement I felt for my mere existence in Saigon is flipped two and a half times around topsy-turvy into profound instant brotherhood by the following exchange which one can have as often as one wants during this holiday.
VN: "Hello! My friend! You buy something. Where you from?"
Ben: " Hello, My friend! U.S.A.........Amerigah"
VN: "Awhhhhhhhhhh" (It is difficult is ascertain the emotion behind this response)
Ben: "Happy Independence Day!"
VN: (Insert knowing eye twinkle here with handshake and hug) " Good! Good! You drink Beer!"
It was several exchanges like this and the friendliness of my traveling companion, Swiss Frog leg fiend, Lionel that led to my gaggle and I being invited to an all male karoake and Saigon Red binge. I'll admit, its weird to be invited straight from the beach to roll 5km in a scooter posse to a private karoake room with a bunch of lit Vietnamese. Red flags with names like "Rufees" , "Theft" and "Extortion" come to mind but luckily they were no match for the green light called "These guys are rad and insist that we don't pay for a thing". After a bit I started miming the action of drinking just not to insult my hosts and still manage to walk out under my own power.
I guess I'm writing about this experience not because I wish to relate a unique moment of international brotherhood but more as another resume point in my ever expanding file of why I have more kaorake mojo than Miss Betsy Morris. My oeuvre now includes my Khmer new year Korean Hip Hop freestyle rap in Sihanoukville Cambodia, Three spot on Vietnamese duets, Feliz Navidad in three languages, and the fact that I still rock "Hit Me with Your Best Shot" harder than she can.
Self-aggrandizement aside, the spirt of the Vietnamese is starting to come through to me more clear. As an American I cannot help but admire a people that says "NO!", "Hell NO!, and "Fucking Helllllll No!" to multiple groups of invaders per century. Who cares if they are communist, socialist, or capitalist they are definitely not defeatist. I toured the Cu Chi tunnels and during a 15 m, 45 second crouched walk/crawl under 5m of packed clay I was overcome by the fear of pitch black, being lost, claustrophobia and was instantly covered in buckets of sweat and dust. I wanted out and was scared and I wasn't even fighting a war against vastly more well equipped invaders.
The best part of the Cu Chi tunnel memorial/museum are the traps, usually a variation on the theme of poisoned bamboo spikes in a whole covered with leaves. I think I'd rather trip a claymore than fall into one of these and be left to bleed to death . The amazing part to me was the mural depicting bumbling American G.I.'s stumbling into the things. I wish I had a picture of the mural because only would a people who had an immense hatred for the people destroying their country would depict such graphic brutality inflicted on white people dressed in drab olive fatigues in a museum. I'm sure every brush stroke was filled with delight.
Weird feeling. The whole "Happy Independence day" brotherhood phenomenon and the Saigonese** "You may be a tourist in this town but we don't owe you shit and if I want more of your money I'm going to lie to your face, change the agreed price and feign monolingulism" phenomenon makes for an interesting travel experience. Makes me respect my parents more. They spent something like six years hear. My mom lived in Saigon while my dad flew things. I was impressed by the beach shells in the shitty resort town of Mui Ne so I grabbed a handfull of the spirally pink and purple ones and will clean them, split them 50/50 and send them home. My mom will get hers is about 3 weeks and my dad will get his in about 3 months when he gets back from sailing his new boat from Lake Michigan, up the Saint Lawerence River, down to Bermuda, through the Panama canal, up the west coast and home to Friday Harbor in Washington. Go Dad. I'm proud of you.
I want both of them to have something beautiful from this country that I can only imagine caused them so much pain.
p.s. I g-chatted with my mom and she said that I was the last of her kids to make it to Vietnam. I am grateful to have the good fortune to be able to choose the right time to come here.
*Note to Jeff Larson. Hoi an is an anagram for Hanoi.
**Now Ho Chi Minh City of course. I use the old word for poetic continuity.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Finally some pics
Flickr.com
username : juiceboxjuicbox
I've decide to adopt the "Slow and steady wins the race" attitude to putting up pictures/comments etc rather than trying to do it all in one swell foop.
Expect my photostream to be organized a little bit every time I get computer access, and of course linked to from this blog. The one above is of Ryan, Andre and I in Don Det, Laos. The beach there got trashed by drunks every night after the generators shot off at 10pm. We would pick up cigarette butts every morning and eventually decided to make a sign reminding folks to pick up after themselves. The pic was taken right after a pig roast we threw as a goodbye to the wonderful island and right after we pounded the sign into the ground.
Tomorrow I go to Vietnam.
Finally some pics
Flickr.com
username : juiceboxjuicbox
I've decide to adopt the "Slow and steady wins the race" attitude to putting up pictures/comments etc rather than trying to do it all in one swell foop.
Expect my photostream to be organized a little bit every time I get computer access, and of course linked to from this blog. Here is one of Ryan, Andre and I in Don Det, Laos. The beach there got trashed by drunks every night after the generators shot off at 10pm. We would pick up cigarette butts every morning and eventually decided to make a sign reminding folks to pick up after themselves. The pic was taken right after a pig roast we threw as a goodbye to the wonderful island and right after we pounded the sign into the ground.
Tomorrow I go to Vietnam.
username : juiceboxjuicbox
I've decide to adopt the "Slow and steady wins the race" attitude to putting up pictures/comments etc rather than trying to do it all in one swell foop.
Expect my photostream to be organized a little bit every time I get computer access, and of course linked to from this blog. Here is one of Ryan, Andre and I in Don Det, Laos. The beach there got trashed by drunks every night after the generators shot off at 10pm. We would pick up cigarette butts every morning and eventually decided to make a sign reminding folks to pick up after themselves. The pic was taken right after a pig roast we threw as a goodbye to the wonderful island and right after we pounded the sign into the ground.
Tomorrow I go to Vietnam.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
I got 99 problems but the lack of an Open Water Diving certificate ain't one. HIT ME!
It's the Khmer new year. It's a nice time to be here if you either abhor your dryness, or think dryness is a boon. You see its like this; the Khmer/Lao/Thai new year is a 3 day party for locals and if you're in Thailand you will get splashed with water by strangers all day everyday. In Cambodia people rub Talcum powder on your face. It's an interesting dichotomy. I don't know what they do in Lao but I can only imagine, like with most things that it is somewhat of a mix between Thailand and Cambodia.
Oh yeah, the diving is amazing here too. Imagine flying through the set of Fraggle Rock and The Dark Crystal at the same time in 85 degree water. 4 dives in 3 days and I must say, I highly recommend it. It's like the Grand Canyon, sex, and seeing Daft Punk live; you can describe it to someone but they will never really understand it until they do it for themselves. I like it so much I have considered smashing this whole "teaching English"bru-ha-ha for becoming a dive instructor. We'll see. All I can say now is that the folks at The Dive Shop in Sihanoukville, Cambodia have been very nice and seem to think I am the same. They like it when I freestyle rap to Korean hip-hop karaoke and they let me stay at the shop for free.
In the mean time here are some things to think about:
-getting a job in Vancouver, B.C 2010
-December 21st, 2012, the end of the Mayan long count calendar and the official "End of the World" for people who believe in that sorta thing
-2013, The next Kumbh Mela Hindu festival in India. In 2001 70 million people attended making it the biggest gathering of humans ever.
-My high school 10th, in November 2008. Place and my attendance are uncertain
-Radiohead, August, 2008 White River amphitheater.
-World's craziest sunburn: Ben Lidgus Sihanoukville, Cambodia. Malaria meds really do make you more photosensitive.
-Only person in Cambodia without massive diarrhea: Ben Lidgus, the guy with Irritable Bowel Syndrome
Could all these things be a coincidence, or is the anticipation of the return of Quetzalcoatl in 2012 really causing unintended karmic disturbances. Hard to say. I fall into the "The World is Just as Fucked/Amazing as its Ever Been; The End Times Are Not Near" Camp but other people think different.
In the mean, mean time send mexican food, bandwidth to upload pics and watch all the wonderful youtubes you folks keep sending me, gossip, chocolate, pics of my nephews and Huck, and the laws regaurding setting up a street food stand in Seattle.
My life is changing I think/hope. Email me about yours.
Microphone check, 1, 2, 06!
Oh yeah, the diving is amazing here too. Imagine flying through the set of Fraggle Rock and The Dark Crystal at the same time in 85 degree water. 4 dives in 3 days and I must say, I highly recommend it. It's like the Grand Canyon, sex, and seeing Daft Punk live; you can describe it to someone but they will never really understand it until they do it for themselves. I like it so much I have considered smashing this whole "teaching English"bru-ha-ha for becoming a dive instructor. We'll see. All I can say now is that the folks at The Dive Shop in Sihanoukville, Cambodia have been very nice and seem to think I am the same. They like it when I freestyle rap to Korean hip-hop karaoke and they let me stay at the shop for free.
In the mean time here are some things to think about:
-getting a job in Vancouver, B.C 2010
-December 21st, 2012, the end of the Mayan long count calendar and the official "End of the World" for people who believe in that sorta thing
-2013, The next Kumbh Mela Hindu festival in India. In 2001 70 million people attended making it the biggest gathering of humans ever.
-My high school 10th, in November 2008. Place and my attendance are uncertain
-Radiohead, August, 2008 White River amphitheater.
-World's craziest sunburn: Ben Lidgus Sihanoukville, Cambodia. Malaria meds really do make you more photosensitive.
-Only person in Cambodia without massive diarrhea: Ben Lidgus, the guy with Irritable Bowel Syndrome
Could all these things be a coincidence, or is the anticipation of the return of Quetzalcoatl in 2012 really causing unintended karmic disturbances. Hard to say. I fall into the "The World is Just as Fucked/Amazing as its Ever Been; The End Times Are Not Near" Camp but other people think different.
In the mean, mean time send mexican food, bandwidth to upload pics and watch all the wonderful youtubes you folks keep sending me, gossip, chocolate, pics of my nephews and Huck, and the laws regaurding setting up a street food stand in Seattle.
My life is changing I think/hope. Email me about yours.
Microphone check, 1, 2, 06!
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