Child of the Planet

I took these photos years ago when I was living in Islington. I didn't remember the address when I uploaded these to Flickr, so I found the cemetery by locating where I used to live in Islington, then scrolling the map along the route I used to take to get to the cemetery (I used Google maps cause Yahoo's maps don't zoom down far enough.) So cool all the red buses chocking up the streets. This cemetery is in Stoke Newington, and looking at the names of the roads around the cemetery, I reckon this must have had a important building nearby. The grounds were amazingly overgrown, and it looked like some recent hacking to clear out path had occurred. It was like discovering a lost city, in the middle of London.

Entry for September 21, 2006: Knowing the way to San José isn’t the problem. It’s getting away! This is our second day moored to the dock. There has been a storm warning out in the Med. Despite the alert we set out early this morning. We were all tired of hanging around the port. Once outside the breakwater, the swell was pretty choppy and I inquired of the captain, as to whether we would use the possible evacuation of my stomach as an indication that we should head back? His reply was that ‘a decent percentage’ of the crew hanging over the railing would be more persuasive then just my discomfort. Once out there, the captain cruised around a bit, and got concerned that the ship was going to suffer some damage, when she slid into the troughs, and slammed through the oncoming waves, so we headed back to port. Rather then mooching around the boat and surrounding harbor, we all were appointed Boat maintenance jobs. Some people bitched a bit, but I was hanging (not...

Entry for September 19 2006: Back in the Port Almaria On leaving San Jose, a buzz worked it’s way though the crew. Something had been sighted out in the Mediterranean and it wasn’t dolphins. We soon drew up to an abandoned boat. A small aluminum dinghy. The sort that weekend fishermen use back home. As we approached the rolling tub, the scuttlebutt amongst the crew was that the boat could have been used by drug runners or refugees. The boat was empty but for a pile of orange life jackets. It’s hard to believe that people set out across the Mediterranean in craft that should be punting about on a quiet lake. Something must have caught someone’s eye cause the boat was hooked, and bought along side. Intrepid Carlos (the one whose snoring, I reckon has been scaring away anything with ears for a few hundred kilometres) leapt aboard the wildly pitching dingy and after working away with a wrench, retrieved a compass of surprisingly good quality. As we pulled aw...

Canadians and Australians are cousins so I knocked up this list. Feel free to add to it. Especially if you have no idea about either country (make something up, that would be funnier :-) These countries are similar in that they are both big places, with few people living in the middle. One is hot, the other cool :-) Both have bears, though Australian ones have a novel way of reproducing, and are unlikely to rip your head from your body. We have psychopaths cruising our dry interior in Land Cruisers to do that. Both are members of the Commonwealth Though you wouldn’t know it cause they have a cooler flag. Both have neighbors that they have a love/hate relationship with. We have New Zealand and they have THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! Both have a fine appreciation of the ‘indi’ guitar band. We are a member of ANZUS and they are a member of G8. How the hell did they get into G8? We are as good as them… oppps sorry, this wasn’t supposed to be a competitive piece ...

Entry for September 18 2006: Port of San Jose   Our new mooring is stunning. The water is so clear, it’s like wobbly solidified air. The tiny town that hugs the port beautiful too. As soon as we docked yesterday afternoon, the captain disappeared to have a shower. We all de-boated and swarmed into a bar that sat right on the docks. Up till now, Ricardo had been grabbing a quick sluicing under a hose on the pier in the mornings, before for starting the engines. He reappeared next to our table freshly scrubbed and sporting pants that had been ironed. He disappeared off into the Spanish countryside with an American fisheries researcher who had been hitching a lift with us, to attend a meeting with some political big wigs.

Entry for September 16 2006: Aguadulce. Yesterday, we left Almirima at the crack of dawn. Our wake up call was the sound of the Toftevaag’s engines firing up. Our first day was spent getting to know the rhythm of life on the boat, as we sailed up the coast to this mooring in Aguadulce. Not allot of dolphin action yesterday. We were all a bit groggy today for a variety of reasons. This morning our wake up call was again the sounds of marine diesels coughing to life deep below decks. Most of us were kept awake last night by the disco music, rolling out over the marina from the clubs on shore. I would have slept well if not for Carlos (one of the regular crew who was sleeping on the other side of the deck from me) who snored so loudly that the ear plugs I inserted to block out the disco beat were rendered useless. His snoring resonated through the wooden deck, and travelling up into my head, thorough the thin pillow I was using.

Sydney is blessed with great natural beauty. Which can be a curse, cause very little effort is directed towards architecture or public sculpture. I know, I know, what about the Opera House. If you do a bit of research on its history, you’ll discover what a glorious accident it was. Any who, each year there is a free sculpture walk along the beaches and cliffs.