Category: Uncategorized

Longtime readers of TWC will know that I have come across a lot of crazy sh*t in the neverending search for interesting, funny Wetass material. And sometimes you hit the jackpot. Folks, today we have hit the jackpot. Because while surfing the web yesterday I came across a website built by a Dutch woman named “Kitty.” The interesting thing about Kitty is that she used to be a, umm, man, or at least a boy. And being a boy was going reasonably well until at the age of 14, when he/now-she saw the movie Splash. Since that moment Kitty was obsessed with becoming a mermaid–not a merman, a mermaid. And thanks to the wonders of modern society, she has become–and I swear I am not making this up–the world’s first transgender half-fish/half woman(?).

Should you too have merperson ambitions, Kitty and her website are there to help. There are pages on training: Part 1 deals with learning the merperson swimming style; and Part 2 covers holding your breath for a really, really long time.

Still with me? And still want to be a merperson? Then click on over to the section on how to make your own mertail. Kitty is nothing if not thorough. So she also has information on underwater wigs and makeup, for achieving that full Darryl Hannah mermaid look, and lots of mermaid links. Okay, I’ve got to stop now. I’m starting to lose touch with reality. And my trident needs polishing…

Confused Kitty: “I’m ready for my close-up now, Mr. DeMille…”

“I’m not strange. I’m just a guy, I mean a girl, with a dream…”

In a world soaked in steroids, it’s refreshing to know there is a guy like Hans Florine out there. Florine is a 40-year old speed climber and motivational speaker, and he just kicked ass at the U.S. National Climbing Championships, held at Mission Cliffs in San Francisco. Not sure what sort of tea the guy drinks, but he won the speed climbing division. The second place finisher was all of 18 years old. There was a nice symmetry to his victory. Florine won the first national speed climbing competition held in 1989. That’s 16 years ago for all you math-challenged rock jocks.

I first took note of Florine a while back, when I came across his insane list of the 40 challenges he took on to celebrate his 40th birthday last year (so far he has knocked off 21). Things such as: carry 40 pounds on his body for 4 days (so he could relate to his wife and other pregnant women); knock off a 40 km run; lift 40,000 kgs (about 87,000 pounds) in the weight room; do 400 pull-ups in a day; drink 4 martinis (he only managed 2.5; wimp?); hold 40 yoga poses for 40 seconds each….Well, you get the picture. Florine is a nut, but a nut who has unlimited energy and lives life as if he is decades younger than he really is. Not a bad example…

First-Place Florine: “Oh man, I can’t believe I let this old geezer beat me. Better keep smiling…”

Earlier this week I heaped scorn on traditional Jeep safaris (see here). Apparently, these two mokes felt the same way. But instead of going on a frog safari they came up with the brilliantly stupid idea of prancing around on the Savannah in a zebra suit. Click here to watch the hilarious, then, umm, exciting result (“Don’t worry, that was perfectly safe.”). Not sure whether this safari approach is ever going to take off…

“Damn, this zebra is particularly tasty. Lean, tender, and with just a hint of Old Spice…”

If you are a solo-racing sailor and want to learn how to push your performance to the limit on ridiculously small amounts of sleep, there is one guy you go to: Claudio Stampi. And you can check out my profile of the good doctor in the latest issue of Outside (no, it’s not online yet; get off your ass and go fork out the dough for an actual copy of the mag). Not sure you want to bother? Well, let’s say there is also a very, umm, interesting cover story about women who climb clothed…but prefer nudity when the camera comes out. Gripping (sorry) stuff…

Banned At Wal-Mart?: Here’s what the cover looks like once you rip off the brown paper cover…

So, here’s a little trivia question. What’s the largest floating object in the world? A U.S. Navy aircraft carrier? Nope. Liz Taylor snorkeling (sorry, I watched a lot of Saturday Night Live growing up)? Close, but, again, no. Shell’s largest supertanker? Three strikes, you’re out.

The world’s largest floating object is cold, hard and made of ice. It’s known as (drumroll, please) B-15A and it’s the largest remaining chunk of a monstrous iceberg that broke free of the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica in 2000. The original berg–known as B15–was about the size of Jamaica (but a lot colder, with no rum drinks, sandy beaches, or swingers resorts). B-15A is smaller, but still country-sized, measuring in at more than 70 miles long, with a total area close in size to Luxembourg.

Why am I telling you this now? Well, it’s a good piece if info to take into a bar. But more important, B-15A, which has been stuck aground on a seamount in McMurdo Sound, has finally broken free and is drifting toward a long pier of land-attached ice known as the Drygalski Ice Tongue (great name, eh?). It might or might not scrape past it, and the eggheads at the European Space Agency (from which I’m cribbing all this info; why can’t NASA be so useful?) are on the edge of their chairs, full of fear for the poor innocent Drygalski Ice Tongue. Here’s Mark Drinkwater, of ESA’s Ice/Oceans Unit:

“The widest part of the iceberg would now appear to have successfully negotiated the narrow channel between the shallow seamount to its west–where it was formerly grounded–and Franklin Island to the east.

“It was now achieved a critical overlap with the end of the Drygalski ice pier, so far without touching. It would now appear that any contact–if at all–between the drifting iceberg and the land-fast floating ice tongue is likely to be a consequence of being ‘brushed’ or ‘bumped’ by the broader trailing end of the iceberg, much like the wide turns made by a long trailer behind a truck or the stern of a ship.”

Folks, this is about as exciting as it gets in the bergy business. Here are some photos showing the pretty much undetectable movement of the bottle-shaped B-15A. Try not to hyperventilate…

March 15: “Ramming speed…!”

March 16: “Uhh, still ramming speed. Check back later…”

With May fast approaching the hordes are starting their annual migration to Everest, where they will climb, litter, argue about fixed ropes, and jostle each other as they wait in line to pull themselves up the Hillary Step. Uplifting, yes? But if you need an antidote, a cool tonic, to the modern circus that is Everest, click over to Explorer’s Web, and carefully skipping over the oddly dyspeptic screed about “The Rules Of Adventure, make your way to Part 1 (of 3) of their highly refreshing profile of one of the true greats: English climber Eric Shipton. Shipton was a part of all four massive British expeditions to Everest in the 1930s, and is credited with finding the route that Hillary and Tenzing would eventually climb to the top. But he is best known for his partnership with another Wetass Hall Of Famer, H.W. Tilman, a partnership that defined the essence of adventure, took Shipton to the corners of the earth, and helped pioneer the light, fast Alpine-style of climbing big mountains (which was anathema at the time). Tilman and Shipton liked to say that any expedition could be planned on the back of a cocktail napkin, and they spent a lot of time filling up cocktail napkins…

Simple Shipton: “My God! Is that a bathtub being carried to Camp 3? All I need to climb Everest is some good boots, and this pipe…”

After just 67 days on the Pacific, our favorite, loony French solo rower, Maud Fontenoy, is a little over 300 miles from French Polynesia. That potentially puts her just weeks away from becoming the first woman to row both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. Considering that she was prepared to be slumped over her oars for up to 150 days, I’d say she is–let’s see, how do I put this?–kicking ass. But “it’s not over til it’s over” as they say in Toulouse, and plenty could go wrong. Like what? Well, she could capsize and flood, as she almost did just recently. Here’s her typically whimsical account of that experience:

“Capsizing with an open hatch to breath = guaranteed fright.
Since yesterday evening the ocean becomes more violent, showing me that nothing is won; he’s the only one to decide. The coast is not far away, the danger remains the same. I’m inside my little cage, one hand to hold me, the other ready to close the hatch in case of problem. The oxygen is missing but I know that there’s nothing to do. I try to empty ma head, so that hours pass faster. A migraine keeps me awake in spite of the tiredness.
Suddenly, a terrific roar can be heard. A huge breaker gobbles OCÉOR and myself. I band all my muscles, jump to the hatch but the water already came in. I cling on the locks; a real fright comes over me, my head hurting the bubble, my stomach coming up, my breath cut, my weight used to keep the balance. OCÉOR rolls like crushed by the wave. I tremble with all my body, and everything stops.
We just capsized.
My heart beats in my chest. Don’t panic, stay calm. I take a deep breath, force myself to swallow, my rib hurts, aand a small voice in my ear tells me to look at my red nose, still fixed there.
Come on Maud, a smile !
One solution: resolve the problems one after one, like a robot. I count:
1 : a bucket to empty
2 : take the wet clothing out
3 : my sat ohone was in the water, it doesn’t work anymore A strange silence appeared around me.

Two hours later: sitting on my berth full of salt water, wet, exhausted, I take care of my phone, cotton bud after cotton bud-concentrated–I connect it to the battery: it doesn’t display anything anymore. Exhausted, I push the button: bip, bip, an agreable heat streams in me. Miracle !
I can see there a sign of the Big Universe. I try to call on land, it rings shyly. Chris picks up, and I don’t know why, some tears roll over my face.
Ah these girls !!
Bisous toujours,
Maud”

Here are some words to describe this woman: plucky, indomitable, blistered, wet…

The Trials Of Maud: “Merde! You’d think the US Navy would have something better to do than search my little boat for drugs. At least they’re not demanding a strip search…”

“Okay, okay, you can stay. But only if you promise to move just a little quicker in the roll tacks…”
(Photo: Glennon Stratton)

At least that’s my humble opinion. And when the eggheads at the Monterey Aquarium aren’t torturing Great Whites (see below), they’re out in the Bay trying to answer a profound question: Just who is Mr. Giant Squid? Seems that these oversized calamari like to congregate in Monterey Bay on occasion, far from the massive ocean depths they generally frequent, providing the opportunity for a little open-water research (note to Great White team at aquarium: that’s how research should be done…). The Monterey County Weekly has the whole story, including a great profile of Mr. Squid, otherwise known as Dr. William Gilly of Stanford University. Gilly has been trying to untangle the mysteries of the Giant Squid for decades. He’s still at it, but he’s got at least one thing to say:

“A lot of people want to make these things out to be mean and vicious and dangerous. To the best of my knowledge there’s no documentation that they’ve attacked anyone. Yes, there are divers who have let them grab on to them and drag them around. And yes, if there was a bad-ass squid who wanted to do damage, it could. When I snorkeled with them, one did come right up to me like it was going to eat a fish, but then it just touched me on the hand with its tentacle.

“Of course there are other guys I’ve worked with who want to play up the sensationalism aspects and wear chain mail in the water,” Gilly says. “Like Steinbeck wrote in The Log from the Sea of Cortez, ‘Everyone needs their sea monster in their personal ocean.’ Sensationalism sells video.”

Well put, Gilly, well put. But guess what? There is a whole other opinion out there:

Scott Cassell, a scuba diving videographer who has in fact designed special armor to protect himself while diving with Humboldt squid, takes issue with Gilly’s characterization.

“Gilly is trying to make them out to be cute little ETs,” says Cassell, an underwater filmmaker and cameraman who has done 205 dives with Humboldt squid, and just finished a stint as chief researcher for a Discovery Channel documentary called Killer Squid.

“They are, in my opinion, the most opportunistic animals in the world, feeding on any type of fish they come in contact with and occasionally mammals,” Cassell says. “I’ve interviewed many people who have been attacked by these squids. There are also stories of disappearances, always unexplained, around the Humboldt squid. Always fishermen. I’ve actually seen a Humboldt squid attack a thresher shark twice its size, bite through the very tough skin of the shark and pull out a fist-size chunk of flesh. The Humboldt squid don’t have to kill, they latch on and eat as much as they can without injury to themselves. Because of this they will test and attack most everything they encounter.”

“Diving with these squid is like diving in a barroom brawl,” Cassell says. “I’ve had my eardrum ruptured by getting dragged down from 45 feet to 75 feet; I’ve had my right arm dislocated by a squid grabbing my camera and yanking it; I’ve had 25 stitches from a particularly bad bite on my leg; and I’ve been smashed on the face more times than I can remember because they always seem to go for the camera when I’m looking through it.”

The most notorious Humboldt squid story involves Alex Kirstich, a National Geographic videographer working at night in the Sea of Cortez. Kirstich was shooting a school of five-foot Humboldt squid 30 feet below the surface when he was “mugged” by three squid and gang-dragged down to a depth of 70 feet.

“They took his camera, his necklace, his dive computer and gave him some nice bites around the back of his neck,” Cassell says….

In order to get “a pure example” of their predatory behavior, Cassell dives alone with these squid. Last September, at about 200 feet below the surface, Cassell was attacked by what Gilly would refer to as a “bad-ass” squid–an eight-foot, 300-pound monster Cassell dubbed “Scar.” It was an unforgettable experience he caught on film for an upcoming documentary titled Red Intelligence. He believes the squid are highly intelligent and at times very gentle: “His first attack gave me a giant bruise on my ribs, but once he realized I was not edible, we spent the next 12 minutes hovering before each other,” Cassell says. “He petted me and I reached out and rubbed his belly.”

Hmm, suddenly this is morphing into a bestiality story. Better wrap it up, before I get fined by the FCC. So, in conlusion: Giant squid are, umm, really, really interesting, and they might be dangerous. But, then again, maybe they aren’t (though who are you going to believe: the scientist, or the man who makes his living selling documentaries called “Killer Squid”?)…

“Howdy, pardner. I suppose you’re wondering whether I’m going to bite you or rub my ink all over you…”

Then, check out what has happened to this poor finner during a six month stay at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. These pictures come from Underwater Times, and they document the disintegrating snout, and open sores developing on what should be an open-ocean creature. The Great White killed two other sharks in the tank earlier in the week, and aquarium officials profess to be at a loss why. Really? Well, how about because the poor mother is going insane from bumping into glass walls, not to mention the pain of having one’s nose disintegrate. This is just Exhibit 346,347 in the endless argument against penning, caging or otherwise confining beasts and animals that aren’t wired for confinement. Have I got you worked up at all? Good, send an email to Julie Packard, Executive Director and Vice Chairman of the aquarium’s Board of Trustees, and tell her what you think….

Before: “Lookin’ good. Feelin’ good. I’m a lean mean, eating machine…”

Six Months Later: “Damn, I’m like the Elephant Man, and even the horseshoe crabs are laughing at me. I wish those aquarium assh*les would get in the tank with me for a little in-water check-up…”

“They probably think I’ve got a massive coke habit…”