Category: Volcano

My brain is a basket of mismatched socks

Last weekend I lost it over a pile of socks.

It was a pile of socks I had been staring at for more than a year before finally trying, and failing, to do something with.

I used to have a system. When an odd sock came out of the wash I would put it in a basket in the corner of my room. Periodically I would upend the basket and paw through it, reuniting them with their mates.

I don’t know when the basket became a monster.

One day the multicoloured mess became insurmountable. I had so many socks I couldn’t close my sock draw and the unmatched pile had become a semi-dormant cotton volcano threatening to erupt.

Some of the culprits
Some of the culprits

The odd sock basket came with me when we moved to our new house – and sat there for a year.

It would glare at me malevolently, reminding me that we had been in our new home for 365 days and I still didn’t have my shit sorted.

The sock pile embarrassed me. I would shove it in a corner and forget about it for a while – then another odd sock would turn up.  I would promise myself I would take the basket upstairs, sit in front of the telly and sort the damned thing out – but then I’d be too tired from work, I’d have to cook dinner, there were cat videos on the internet that needed watching…

Yes I realise I was projecting onto the basket. My socky nemesis became a representation of all the things in my life I had been putting off doing. If I could conquer the pile of socks, then everything else would follow.

So that was what I was going to do last weekend. I was finally going to slay the sock monster.

I had a plan. I was going to watch Guardians of the Galaxy in preparation for seeing the second film before it finished in the theatres, dump Mount Socksuvius on the floor and sort it out while watching something that made me smile.

It all fell to pieces when I couldn’t make that happen. I missed the film being on television and was annoyed with myself for that, but that was okay because it was on Netflix -I’d checked the night before. Only it wasn’t,  it was only on Netflix US not NZ. I tried TV on demand, nope. Lightbox, nope. It was a 2014 film for chrissakes, it should’t be so hard!

This upset me much, much, more that it should have.

The problem with being a functioning nutbar is that you often have no idea what silly little thing will make that functioning stop.

OCD is like that for me. Most of the time I’m pretty flexible. If situations change on me I can go with the flow and find a way to make things work. Other times I plan things meticulously in my head and if things don’t conform 100% to that plan I get really upset – irrationally so. The worst part of it is, I know it’s irrational. That’s why it’s so frustrating. I know it doesn’t make sense to feel so upset, but that doesn’t stop me wanting to stomp my feet and pull my hair out.

There doesn’t always have to be a reason, but this time I think there was. I was a bit stressed, my circadian rhythms were only just starting to sort themselves out after returning from my first (non-sailing related) OE, I was trying to start a new writing project (more detail on that, and the OE, in the next blog) and it seemed my house and garden were falling down around my ears. I was trying to do all of things and achieving none of the things and now I couldn’t even watch my movie and organise my damned socks.

Chucking them out and starting again wasn’t an option. I have issues letting go. I like my socks – they’re interesting. They have cats and boats and skull and crossbones, stripes and spots and so many shades of orange.

Of course you can match cats and boats or spots and stripes, I do that all the time – and I have done that with as many as I can, but some are different sizes or different types. Some are gym socks, some are socks to wear with boots. It doesn’t always work.

Sock3

One of the upsides of having OCD is that, usually, this sort of thing is fun. I love organising books, sorting out nuts and bolts on the the boat, colour coding buttons – but for this one I have a massive block.

And what did I do with the ones that didn’t match? I didn’t want to put them in the landfill, I don’t think socks are recyclable and odd socks are a pretty stink thing to donate to an op shop.

Paddy, who had been stoically coping with my irrational anger and looming tears, came to the rescue with that one. Car enthusiasts use a lot of scrap material as cleaning rags when they are tinkering around with their automobiles. I could put the ones I wasn’t going to keep in a rag bag and chuck that in the clothing bin. No sock left behind!

As I sat there contemplating the pile in the middle of the floor and I had a sock-related epiphany.

The sockpocalypse (asockalypse?) I was staring at was a perfect metaphor for my own brain. It’s exactly what I imagine it looks like in there – an unruly pile of colours and textures that don’t always always do what they’re told.

A bright, beautiful pile of crazy that’s sometimes impossible to keep under control.

I love it and I hate it and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The best socks I have ever owned have all been bought for me by my Mum. They come in packs of three and either all of them match or none of them do. They’re interchangeable so it doesn’t matter if you lose one and I think they’re the answer for me.

The socks, like my brain, are a little bit different and help me do things in my own way.

Don't pair? Don't care!
Don’t pair? Don’t care!

I went out yesterday and bought  Guardians of the Galaxy on DVD so I can watch it any damned time I please.

The giant pile of socks is still there, it’s in the middle of the lounge so I can’t miss it.  I know it’s silly, but I feel like if I can get that under control I’ll be able to handle everything else.

I’ll get the house and garden sorted, I’ll start exercising again and I’ll write – a lot. Watch this space!

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

Slow and steady may not win the race – but it’s a heck of a lot more comfortable

Slow and steady may not win the race – but it’s a heck of a lot more comfortable!

The types of boat on this regatta are many and varied – a lot of them being performance cruisers (racing yachts converted into cruising boats).

These are light and fast and get places a lot quicker than we can. They do, however, tend to bob around like Champaign corks in a bathtub when conditions get a bit rough. Wildflower II is neither light nor fast. We tend to arrive after everybody else but we bob around a whole lot less.

It’s not Wildflower’s fault she is a bit on the heavy side. She’s made out of steel and no amount of crash dieting can do anything about that. She also has a lot of stuff in her – a decent sized generator, a water maker, half a tonne of batteries to keep her powered up and a huge fridge-freezer that is the envy of the fleet.

The lighter boats have much less in them so they go faster, but they struggle to keep things cool and are constantly working to conserve power and water. Wildflower is also more likely to win an argument with any coral we (heaven forbid) should ever hit.

As you can probably guess, we are playing catch up with the rest of the fleet at the moment – in company with another steel boat (Sara II).

We first dropped behind when we, and another group of reprobates, decided we weren’t going to follow the rest of the fleet from Espirito Santo to Asanvari Island for a festival they were holding there. At the time they left the wind was blowing 20+ knots from exactly the direction we were planning to travel in, which would have made for a slow and uncomfortable trip.

As we discovered on the way to Tonga, Wildflower goes to windward like a walrus takes to roller-skates, so it was pretty much out of the question for us. Some of the other boats were also disinclined to bash to windward, so a group of us stayed put. Sara II bravely decided to persevere but tore their genoa (head sail) in a squall and came straight back..

Unfortunately when we all decided to move on, the wind decided it was going to play silly buggers again. The lighter, faster boats were able to push on through but we were just burning diesel and getting nowhere. Every time we crashed into a wave the boat would pretty much stop – and Sara II was in the same boat (s’cuse awful pun). So we both turned around and headed for Pelikula Bay where we could get a ride into Luganville to pick up a few more supplies and wait for the weather to change.

Sara II’s owners, John and Chris, are a lovely British couple in their 70s. They are great fun to be around and have a wonderful, adventurous outlook on the world. They are halfway through their circumnavigation and are exactly the way I want to be when I am their age. Unfortunately for them their fridge broke down and it turned out to be one of the few things Paddy has been unable to fix on this cruise (mostly because of lack of appropriate parts). However, since our fridge is big enough to fit a corpse, we have been able to take their food on board to keep it cool. Since we both go at pretty much the same pace, we plan to stick together until they can get replacement parts in Vila.

Being a little behind the rest of the pack has in no way detracted from what has been a fascinating trip so far, with the four of us having the opportunity to explore all sorts of villages and bays.

A stand out for me would be Wali Bay on Pentecost Island, where we got to have a look at a land diving tower. This suicidal sport is kind of a forerunner of bungy jumping which involves locals tying a springy vine around one ankle and jumping headfirst from a rickety looking platform. The tower we saw was about 75 meters tall and looked like the mutant offspring of a drunken game of Jenga and pick-up-sticks – you could not pay me enough to jump off that thing!

Land diving is a seasonal sport because the vines are only suitable at a certain time of year. Apparently someone tried it out of season when Queen Elizabeth visited the island a few years ago and it didn’t end well. We arrived out of season but checking out the tower was fascinating enough. Women are not allowed to take part in this lunacy (a fact I put down to them being far too sensible) and cannot touch the tower until the season is over when they can chop it up for firewood. I certainly know what I would rather be doing! The locals gleefully told us how dangerous the sport was, totting up the injuries during the last season. We get the feeling there is a fair bit of peer pressure to jump among the young men on the island.

Wali gave us another example of lovely locals too. Being stopped by people who genuinely just want to say hello and have a chat is taking a bit of getting used to – but we like it!

Another great spot was Ranon on Ambrym Island. There are two active volcanoes on Ambrym which shroud the top of the island with puffy white smoke and give off an eerie red glow at night. Ranon sits under the volcanic Mt Benbow, which you can climb up with the aid of a guide if you are feeling particularly adventurous. An Australian couple who tracked us down after hearing Paddy on the radio (they couldn’t get theirs to transmit and thought he sounded like he knew radio stuff – he fixed it for them of course) told us the walk was great but took 12 hours. Since we were still playing catch up we decided to give that one a miss (it had nothing to do with us being unfit and lazy)

We did go ashore to check out the village though, which is famed for its carvings. They produce these huge creations called Tam Tams (kind of a cross between a totem pole and a drum) which I really like because they have big googly eyes that make me think of Muppets. There are large ones lying all around the island made out of coconut trees or hardwood and local carvers produce beautiful polished pieces that would look wonderful in a garden. The larger pieces were too big for the boat but we met a couple of local kids who took us to their village where they had smaller pieces – and two kittens which gave me my catlady fix (the kids thought this was hilarious) – so I managed to score a beautifully carved mini Tam Tam (about 30cm high) and a little Tam Tam necklace for the equivalent of $NZ 15. I love that I’ll be able to look at them and know exactly where they came from and who made them.

We did eventually get to Asanvari too and, while we missed out on the festival, we were treated to some very cool custom dancing, took a walk/climb up to a beautiful waterfall and were able to stock up on fresh fruit and veges from amazing gardens that put any of mine to shame.

John, Chris and I did the waterfall walk while Paddy stayed on the boat to do some sail surgery. Our guides were two little girls – Lisha and Angeline – who I suspect were part mountain goat. They bounced effortlessly from rock to rock (one barefoot and one in jandals) in places where Chris and I had to resort to going down on our bums, and I am guessing that it was hard work for them to refrain from bursting out laughing. They did a great job and the view from the top was well worth it. We could even spot Paddy working on the sail from there.

We were also given a tour of the island’s school, which only really had the bare essentials. They were in the process of building a school library because they lost most of their books in a cyclone. They were using materials supplied by some people who came out for a diving holiday and transported for free by the dive operator, which I think is really awesome. We still had some of the books we had picked up in Opua and we were happy to be able to help out in some small way by donating them. It was the school holidays but the head teacher took time out to show us and some people from a cruise ship. His tour included very proudly showing us the class that his wife taught. When one of the Australian tourists asked what she taught he said “Classics.” Needless to say the rather educated sounding, middle aged woman was quite surprised. Her response was something like “Well I studied Classics at school but I am surprised that you teach it here.” In the ensuing awkward silence I happened to notice the large number 6 on the door of the classroom and realised she actually taught “class 6”!

My final stand out spot is the bay we are at right now, Lamen Bay on Epi Island. This is a beautiful bay with a lovely village where you can buy fresh bread and some vegetables – but its best feature, as far as I am concerned, are its critters. The bay is full of big beautiful turtles. All you need to do is pop your snorkeling gear on and jump off the boat and within a few meters you can see them swimming about or munching on the grasses at the bottom of the bay. You can also spot them coming up for air from the boat itself. The turtles are pretty used to people and don’t even interrupt their lunch when you swim up to them. They are even quite happy to let you snorkel down and give them a pat. I think they are just beautiful. Lamen Bay also has a resident dugong which is apparently quite people friendly too. I haven’t managed to spot him yet but even if I don’t the turtles more than make up for it!

We are thinking of you all back then and hope things are going great. There will be annoying amounts of photos to come once we get some decent internet connection in Vila.

Lots of love,

Anna and Paddy

PS – those of you who get Paddy’s e-mail updates as well will notice I have pinched some of his words for this – hey, the man has hidden talents, and it’s not plagiarism if I admit it, right? 😉