Category: Facebook

My Metal Guru

For Joel Flynn

One thing I have learned the hard way this past week is the importance of letting people who are special to you know they are special.
If someone is fucking wonderful tell them they are fucking wonderful, on a regular basis. If you admire the hell out of them, tell them – because you never know when the window to do so will close.

This weekend I said goodbye to a friend who touched my life, a friend who I have kept in touch with via Facebook for years but didn’t make the time to see enough of when I visited home.

I have so many friends like that.

When we met I was about 17 or 18 and I was utterly in awe of his style. He was a vision in glitter and black velvet – looking like a sort of man-pixie cross between John Lennon, Robert Plant and Marc Bolan.

I didn’t know who Marc Bolan was at the time but he sure taught me!

I pinched this from your Facebook page Joel. I hope that's okay. I adore it!
I pinched this from your Facebook page Joel. I hope that’s okay. I adore it!

Joel was a few years older than me and as far as I was concerned he was a music guru. He was responsible for my early Bowie education. I was in the throes of a fledgling Bowie obsession. My gateway drug was the Labyrinth soundtrack, I had pinched a Best Of CD from my Mum, loved Ziggy and Aladdin Sane, but that was where my knowledge floundered. Joel introduced me to Hunky Dory and The Man Who Sold the World and opened a whole new chapter.

Shades of Hunky Dory
Shades of Hunky Dory

He told me Width of A Circle (a 9 minute opus with lots of guitar noodling) was one of his favourites. I thought he was such a dude that I went home I got my copy of The Man Who Sold The World (a cassette tape at that point) and memorised all the lyrics to that song so I would be able to sing it if he played it. Sure enough, he cranked it up at a party at his house and I was able to jump around the lounge with him singing it word for word. I felt like the coolest person in the world.

Width of A Circle was the song I picked for his memorial.

It wasn’t just the music though. When you were in a room with Joel, even if there were 50 other people there, it was like you were the only one in it. We met through my boyfriend at the time who was a good friend of his and I went from a friend’s girlfriend to a special person in my own right within seconds. As another friend said “Every time I saw you it felt as if you’d been waiting just for me to arrive.”

Seconds after this shot was taken bad karaoke began
Seconds after this shot was taken bad karaoke began
Always the center of the party
Always the center of the party

I started visiting on my own, outside parties. When I was super excited by discovering Velvet Underground, when I just wanted a bit of advice.

I have a clear memory of dropping in to his place when I was going through a bit of a bad patch. I was a ball of insecurities and quite down on myself. He made me a coffee and we just talked. He ended up telling me he thought of me as the Yoko Ono of Christchurch. At first I was outraged. I hadn’t broken up any bands had I? But then he explained it was because he thought I had my own unique style, that I didn’t care what others thought and he admired that. Coming from someone who I saw as a sort of guru that meant so much. It was a massive confidence boost and exactly what I needed at the time. Years later I still think about that conversation. I never told him. I wish I had.

When Facebook happened and he got back in touch I was super excited to feel that connection again. I promised myself I would visit him when I came home, that I would make an effort to catch with all my friends from that part of my life. But every year I would come home for Christmas, be knackered from work and just want to chill out at Mum and Dad’s. Each year I would promise myself the next visit I would be organised and catch up with people and each year it didn’t happen.

It seemed okay though, we all spoke to each other most days on Facebook. We all had our own lives and our own issues, but we could peek in and see what each other were up to. We could like and comment and emoticon. We still ‘saw’ each other.

But just because you ‘talk’ to people every day through social media doesn’t mean you know what is going on in their lives. Most people project the best versions of themselves to the world. I know I do. It sort of lulls you into a false sense of connection. It’s great, but it’s not 100% real. You may connect most days but before you know it a decade has gone by since you have been in the same room together.

It had been more than decade since I had seen a lot of the people I caught up with on Friday night, but we picked up where we left off. It almost felt like we had never been apart.

We met at the Christchurch Botanical gardens where we spent a lot of time back in the day. We each picked a song that reminded us of Joel and played them through an ipod speaker. It went from the sublime to the ridiculous. From Led Zeppelin’s Friends to 10 CC’s Dreadlock Holiday. The latter made me smile because it was picked by an ex-boyfriend (the same one who introduced me to Joel). He says it was because he dropped in to visit one day and found Joel playing it, which resulted in an argument that included the phrase “Shit like this is why Punk had to happen!” I can clearly see this happening in my head, and now it makes me giggle every time I hear that song.

Everyone had a story behind their song and each song was perfect in its own way. We threw flowers from each other’s gardens in the river and watched them drift away. Then we polluted it a little by throwing glitter (sorry environmentalists, I’m sure the ducks will only have psychedelic poos for a couple of days!) The glitter was perfect, and very Joel. Another friend of his swore he coated his sofa with the stuff on purpose just to piss people off.

It was universally agreed that we needed to make sure it wasn’t something shit that brought us together again. We have a reunion in the works for next year. I am determined to get in touch when I go home for Christmas.

These days we are so connected but also so isolated. Finding and getting in touch with people is so much easier but you need to make time to make the next step. To really see each other. I’m not saying we have to live in each other’s pockets but just that we need to actually see each other every now and again. Drop in and visit, pick up the phone. If you don’t like the phone drop them an email. Tell people you are thinking of them when you think of them, otherwise they will never know.

So to all my friends and family I haven’t seen for a while. It may take a bit but I am going to do my best to get in touch with you in some form. I think of you all a lot – when I read an article, when I hear someone say something, when a song comes on.

You all have a place somewhere in my heart and you always will have.

I love you.

I’ll leave you all with a playlist and the promise of a cheerier blog next time.

(Just a note I have noticed videos aren’t coming through in the blog emails so if you want to watch any of these then click through to the blog site)

Remembering Joel:

Friends – Led Zeppelin

Trippin – Push Push

The Slider – T Rex

Telephone Line – Electric Light Orchestra

Silence – The Tea Party

Dreadlock Holiday – 10cc

Dirty Work- Steely Dan

Mercedes Benz – Janis Joplin

Shake that Devil – Antony and the Johnsons

The Show Must Go On – Queen

Love is Like Oxygen – Sweet

Width of a Circle – David Bowie

Shameless self promotion

So, rather ironically given I work in communications for a living, it turns out I am a bit of a rubbish self promoter. I need to try harder to let people know Which Way is Starboard Again? the book is out there.

To that end I have spruced up the blog and transferred it from the basic seamunchkin.wordpress.co to seamunchkin.com. If you already follow the blog your subscription has been transferred and nothing will change – it just means it’s easier to share and buy through the website.

I’ve put up a page about the book here and even have a dinky PayPal button

which you can also access here for people who would like to buy signed copies with special messages directly from me.

All the Facebook, Twitter, G+ links have been updated and I’ll put a redirect on the original blog so, other than the new look, it’s pretty much business as usual.

So if anyone you know is interested in reading about sailing, anxiety, projectile vomiting and ant wars I would really appreciate it if you could point them this way.

Thanks for bearing with me – back to your regularly scheduled programming!

Anna xx

Parking woes and playing with dolphins

So we’re still sitting in Opua. The weather has been rubbish so Paddy decided it would be a good time to get some rigging work done on the boat (it is much cheaper here than inWellington).

Unfortunately what we thought would be a one-day job hit a couple of snags and it looks like it won’t be finished until Monday. The tricky part of the whole performance is that we are not staying in the marina anymore – being so close to the yacht club bar and the chandleries (shops that sell boat stuff) was proving a little expensive, so we decided to go live on the pick outside the marina.

This was fine until we needed to get work done on the boat. The rigging company we were using had the use of a marina berth that belonged to one of the ferries though, so we were allowed to stay there while our rigging was being worked on. That too was fine – until the ferry returned and wanted its berth back. It left at 6am and returned at 11pm so we were okay to stay there during the day, but had to clear out by the evening. That also would have been fine, except that it has been blowing like a bastard for the past few days and anchoring and berthing the boat has been a little challenging to say the least!

Each morning we have had to up anchor and maneuver Wildflower into the berth. This can be tricky at the best of times but, with the wind howling and current ripping through the marina, squeezing 18 tonnes of steel into a space between two other boats can be pretty interesting!

It became even more interesting the other morning when our engine decided it was going to die at the most inopportune moment. We were heading into the marina, there were boats everywhere, the wind was blowing and I was standing at the bow of the boat ready to throw a line to friends of ours who have been helping us park over the past few days.

Paddy popped his head out the cockpit and very calmly said “we’ve lost the engine. I’m going to try to get us into that empty berth (luckily there was one nearby) but there’s a chance we might run into it, so make sure you don’t get hurt. I’m going to jump off (the boat) and you are going to have to throw the lines to me – but you’re going to have to be quick.”

The funny thing was, I didn’t panic. When we were out at sea sometimes I freaked myself out thinking of all the things that could go wrong, but when we were facing an impending crash landing I was reasonably calm. I figured there was nothing we could do to change the situation we were in so we had to do the best we could to get ourselves out of it. I guess taking the choice out of the matter kind of took away the fear.

Paddy managed to coast the boat into the empty berth and leap off the side, while I threw him the ropes. I’m afraid all the excitement may have affected my throwing technique a little (read I flailed ineffectually) but I got the ropes to him and that’s all that really matters! Paddy tied us up to the dock and someone from a boat nearby ran over to give us a hand. I noticed he adhered to the marina code of helping us out, checking that we were okay and buggering off before it got too embarrassing – well done that man!

I was really impressed with the way Paddy calmly assessed the situation, worked out what needed to be done and did it with the minimum of drama. Had I been on the helm I would have been more likely to wave my arms in the air like Kermit the Frog on a bad day and go hide under something.

The most likely culprit was an air bubble in our fuel (I’m sure there is a more technical explanation but that will do for now) caused by all the jostling round we were doing out at anchor. We are now making sure there is a lot more fuel in our tanks just in case – and so far haven’t had any more problems (touch wood!)

Once the day’s work on the boat has been done we then have to back out of the berth in a slightly nerve-wracking three-point turn (which Paddy executes like a pro) and head back out to the anchorage. Anchoring can also be quite fun when you are trying to do it in 25 knots of wind. There comes a point when you stop looking around thinking ‘that’s a nice boat’ and start thinking ‘that looks expensive!’

At one point we were trying to do this at the same time that the cruising club was running its weekly yacht race. I don’t know whether the racers recognized that we were trying to anchor, but it was certainly rather unnerving trying to steer the boat into the wind while race boats zipped right behind us.  You can honk your horn to signal if you are turning to port, starboard or reversing, but as far as I am aware there is no signal for ‘piss off we’re trying to anchor’ – please feel free to correct me if I am wrong though!  If there isn’t then there jolly well should be and I shall be campaigning vigorously for it to be included in future Boat masters training!

We did get to escape for a couple of days though, before the work on the boat started. We headed out to the Bay of Islands and anchored up at a little place called Robertson Island. It’s a nature reserve with lots of birdies and stuff and a snorkeling trail that I am sure will be a lot more appealing when the water is a little warmer than 10 squillion degrees below zero! We did see a couple of terribly hopeful looking girls lying on the beach in bikinis – we on the other hand were rugged up in jackets and jumpers.

The highlight of that trip came on the first afternoon we were there. I was cleaning up below deck when Paddy called me up to say there were dolphins in the bay. We watched them leaping around the bow of a large boat that was anchored there (which was strange in itself because dolphins tend to hang around moving boats and disappear when they get bored.) I suggested we take the dinghy over but Paddy reckoned that might spook them, so we watched from the boat for a while. Then I spotted a couple of kayakers heading out and was amazed at how close the dolphins got to them.

When somebody else turned up in a dinghy and it didn’t scare them off I started doing my best annoying little girl impression “Can we? Can we? Can we??!!!” Paddy eventually caved and we headed out towards the pod. It was the most amazing experience. The dolphins were huge (common dolphins we think) and had no problems with us being there. They swum under the dinghy and leapt out of the water right in front of us, doing flips and generally showing off. They were having a great time – and so were we! The funny thing about dolphins is that, no matter how many times you see them, you still get a buzz out of it. They are just stunning, sleek and shiny and joyful, and all the people out there with them were clapping their hands and letting out involuntary squeals of delight. I’ve seen dolphins from the boat a few times now, but that was the closest I had ever been to them. You could have reached out and touched them – if they had stayed still long enough!

Its funny – other than swimming with turtles and snorkeling with tropical fish – I didn’t actually have much luck when it came to spotting sea critters during our Pacific trip. We left Tonga before the whales turned up (though we did see some from a distance while we were traveling), we waited two days in a place called Manta-ray Bay for the mantas to turn up – only to have them arrive the day after we left, and don’t even get me started on dugongs – I swear they are a mythical creature!  It wasn’t until we got home that I got to get up close and personal with sea creatures! I know there is a whole debate about whether you should get up close to dolphins and whales, but these guys had no issues with us being there – if there was even the slightest sign that they were distressed we would have been out of there. We didn’t feed them and we didn’t go out on a trip to hunt them out – they came to visit us! So I figure that’s okay.

Below is a public link to a Facebook album with dolphin pics (I tried to upload them to WordPress but the wifi here didn’t like that). They were taken from the boat because our camera isn’t waterproof (that’s definitely on the list for the next trip!) so they aren’t as great as they would have been had we taken the camera in the dinghy – but you get the picture!

Journey to the centre of the earth

On Friday night Paddy and I got a good look at the Earth’s insides.

They are red-hot, angry and utterly terrifying, but also fascinating and beautiful.

When I sit back and think about it, crawling around on top of an erupting volcano is possibly one of the loonier things I have done, but it is also one of the most exhilarating.

Mt Yasur on Vanuatu’s Tanna Island is one of the world’s most accessible volcanoes. It fluctuates between being tourist friendly and dangerous, and when the danger level exceeds 3 (it was level 2 while we were there) it is advisable to steer clear.

We flew to Tanna from Port Vila because the wind was blowing in the wrong direction and 35 minutes in a plane seemed preferable to two days of bashing to windward in a boat.

The flights, accommodation and trip up the volcano were my Christmas present from Paddy and – while for some having molten lava flung at them may not be their idea of a romantic gift from their beloved – I was stoked.

It was a two-hour four wheel drive from Tanna airport to our accommodation – an eco resort called the Jungle Oasis – and during that time those of us sitting in the back got to know each other pretty well! Paddy and I went with our friends Chris and John from Sara II and Chris, Paddy and I were squished into the back seat. Luckily there were only four of us because a couple of times we passed vehicles with some rather uncomfortable looking folk bouncing about in 4WD trailers.

The road wasn’t just bumpy – in some places it was still being created (I think it will be a shortened version of what was a much longer route). At one point we had to crawl behind a digger that was actually in the process of pushing the earth out of the way of the road as we drove on it! We were all so hyped up, nervous and excited about the impending volcano trip that it didn’t really bother us. In fact on more than one occasion Chris and I burst into hysterical giggles as we slammed against each other. I was sitting in the middle so got more of a workout than the rest, but the way I figured it was like doing 5 million stomach crunches and so was better than going to the gym. The drive back the next day however was a much sleepier affair!

Part of the trip involved driving across the ash plain, where the smoke and ash from the volcano has smothered the land to give it an eerie alien-like quality. This ancient lunar landscape was stunning, with flattened black plains disappearing into the distance and huge canyon-like structures formed by lava flows from previous, more violent eruptions. We hopped out of the 4WD and snapped some photos before heading on our way. I was fascinated and could have spent hours there but I knew we had a volcano to get to!

We arrived at our accommodation, which was literally in the middle of nowhere, threw down our bags and got ready to head up the hill. We had been told the best time to view the volcano was at dusk. The Jungle Oasis is so close to Mt Yasur that you can hear the rumbles and explosions from the huts you are sleeping in. Chris remarked that spending the night on the side of an active volcano may have been one of the loonier things she had done. I felt comforted that we were all loonies together.

We drove up to the volcano as far as we could go and then climbed the rest of the way, eying uneasily the large rocks and boulders (called bombs) that Mt Yasur had previously flung forth. We could hear the volcano rumbling as we walked and see the steam rising. We had been a little concerned on the way up that we wouldn’t see much because it seemed to be rather foggy, but we needn’t have worried – molten lava is never going to let a little fog get in the way.

Then we reached the highest point of the ledge we were climbing and found ourselves looking right down into the planet’s innards. We were actually standing on the rim of a crater on an active volcano.

I find it hard to describe what it felt like seeing the earth laid bare like that, staring straight into the fiery core of the land we walk over every day in blissful ignorance. To say it made me feel small and insignificant would be twee – I think it was more of an example of how much bigger and more powerful the universe is than we will ever understand. It made me feel very human.

And that was before the excitement started!

When we arrived up top we could see two fissures steaming away with the molten hot inner core of one plainly visible. I was pretty impressed by this, but it also seemed rather far away. I guess I had figured we would get a bit closer. Then, as I was just starting to snap photos, Mt Yasur gave a mighty belch and started flinging red-hot rocks upwards (I guess if my insides were roiling about like that I’d want to get a bit off my chest too). Despite the fact most of the boulders were still landing hundreds of meters away from us, we all scuttled back pretty quickly! Our guide politely said to me, “you have to stand still if you want to take photos!”

You know when you are watching a big fireworks display and it seems like they are coming straight for you? Well it was like that but much scarier. It was also utterly beautiful. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. After the initial eruption died down you could see the chunks of molten lava littering the crater and hear the thud of boulders landing that were no doubt the size of cars. One of the closest rocks landed about 75 meters away from us, which is pretty much as close as I would like to get to molten rock thank-you-very-much! All would go quiet, an eerie red light would stain the smoke and then it would start all over again. You couldn’t really predict when it would happen so whenever it did it elicited stunned gasps and high pitched shrieks. Paddy got some wonderful video footage (some admittedly involving me squealing like a little girl) which I will link to the blog once we find a way of making it web-friendly.

When we finally got tired and hungry we reluctantly turned our back on the pyrotechnics and headed back to our accommodation where we had a lovely dinner cooked for us from local ingredients.

Jungle Oasis is a beautiful place with lovely green gardens growing from the ash coated ground (volcanic soil is actually very fertile), but it is also very basic. The huts
have electricity (via some pretty dodgy wiring) only when the generator is running and the bed is pretty much just a thin mattress on a chunk of wood, covered with a mosquito net. I also choose to believe that the critter with the long tail I saw scampering across the rafters was just a really big, furry looking, lizard. While all this is good fun and adds to the charm, sadly it doesn’t really make for a good night’s sleep. Jungle Oasis definitely has the plus of
being close to the volcano though. Others who came to see Mt Yasur then had to turn around and take the two hour pot-hole fest back to their accommodation by the airport, while we just had to go down the road. We also had extra sound effects and I actually found it rather comforting listening to Yasur rumbling in the background when I couldn’t sleep. At that point it felt like we were old friends.

Our room also came complete with an island alarm clock – a rather vocal rooster right behind our hut. Being half asleep neither of us were in any position to deal with it but we were relieved when the crowing morphed into an angered squawking followed by silence. Paddy reckons this was someone engaging an ‘island snooze alarm’ (most likely a rock or a big stick!). Unfortunately, with the rooster silenced and Paddy and I just starting to doze off, the seventh day Adventists started. There was a sort of tent revival going on just across the road with lots of bell ringing and singing and preaching. The singing was actually quite nice to listen to (after a couple of cups of island coffee) but at stupid-o’clock in the morning I’m afraid my musical appreciation was at a bit of a low ebb. From what I could make out with my broken Bislama the revival was going to go on for the following week, followed by numerous other activities in the coming months. I guess the area would be ripe ground
for that sort of thing, having hellfire and brimstone pretty much right on the doorstep.

All in all Tanna and Mt Yasur were unforgettable in so many ways and I am so glad we did it. There really is something magical about the place.

Here’s the public link to my facebook volcano photo album (http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150383017736420.405831.619276419&l=51b886016e&type=1 and I’ll link to the vids once they are good to go

When disaster hits home (and the power of Twitter)

I was planning to blog on the huge amount of work required to get the boat up to Category 1 standard so we can leave the country. I was going to write about my insecurities about getting everything organised and my worries about the time that is so rapidly ticking by.

But yesterday threw all that sharply into perspective.

I am from Christchurch. My family and friends are in Christchurch – I lived and worked and partied in places that are now rubble.

I can’t stop staring at the television. I keep recognising places where friends and I lived, loved, ate and drank too much, listened to bands, op-shopped and held meetings that were going to save the world. Places where people I know still do these things.

I managed to contact my parents shortly after the quake happened and nearly cried with relief when I heard  Mum’s voice on the other end of the phone. They were shaken, but okay. Another big aftershock struck while I was talking to Dad – I could hear it through the phone. I heard Mum cry out in the background and then the phone went dead. The few seconds it took for me to reestablish contact after that felt like years. It was so scary. But they are okay. They are strong, amazing, wonderful people – and I know they will be fine (but it doesn’t stop me wanting to shovel them on to a plane and get their arses up to Wellington!)

I have also managed to track down a lot of my friends – mostly through twitter and facebook, and I have a whole new respect for social networking. I only begrudgingly set up a twitter account for work purposes, so I can keep an eye on what’s trending in the education sector. But I gradually started to find interesting people to follow and began to embrace it more. Yesterday however I saw it in a whole different light – not just because it was a fantastic way of finding out what was happening as it was happening, but because of the way it brought people together. I have already heard of several people who found out that loved ones were okay because a complete stranger tweeted the name of the person sitting next to them and that information was retweeted and retweeted until it reached the person it needed to. People have also been tweeting the locations of people they are concerned about and people in those areas have looked out for them – complete strangers helping people who were too far away to offer any practical assistance.

I’m not going to beatify Christchurch – it would be hypocritical. I have done my fair share of pissing and moaning about its clique-iness, how judgemental people could be, how the most important thing seemed to be what school you went to and woe betide you if you wanted to dress or act a little bit differently. But, just as they say you can’t pick your family, you can’t pick the town you are born in either and, despite its foibles, you  also can’t help  loving it. It’s home.

I’ve had some shitty times in Christchurch and I have had some great times and met some beautiful people – and it is those people that are coming to the fore in this crisis. People helping eachother out, looking after eachother.

I feel helpless here. I want to be down in ChCh pulling bricks out of buildings. I couldn’t even donate blood because the bloodbanks here have been inundated with offers (which is wonderful!)

All I can do is donate some money and offer my love and support – through, twitter, through facebook, through this blog – to all of those who have lost loved ones, to those who are still waiting to hear from people, to those who are picking up their lives and soldiering on. I wish I could do more.

For those of you wanting to donate to the people of Christchurch there are a number of ways to do it

The Salvation Army is running an appeal – you can donate online, through their Westpac account 03 0207 0617331 00 or call 0800 0207 0617331 00

You can donate to the Red Cross at www.redcross.org.nz/donate or send a cheque to: New Zealand Red Cross 2011 Earthquake Appeal, Freepost 232690, PO Box 12140, Thorndon, Wellington 6144or you can donate to their Kiwibank account 38-9009-0759479-00 or direct credit transfer to their special appeals banks account –  ASB 12-3192-0015998-02 at any branch of the PostShop Kiwibank, ASB and ANZ

You can also donate to the collections that I am sure are springing up all around the country. I am going to a quiz night tonight at the Mighty Mighty, by way of distraction – they will be collecting money there.

I will write the category 1 blog – but now is not the time. It’s tough and it’s tiring, but I know we will get through it, and there are so many others who need our thoughts and words right now.