The Genesis Of A Marine Painting…: Ever wonder how much work it takes to go from a blank page to a fully realized marine masterwork? No? Well, even so, check out this very cool animation of the evolution of famed marine artist John Mecray’s portrait of Ted Turner’s “Tenacious,” which won the deadly 1979 Fastnet Race. You can find other animations of Mecray’s work here (I particularly recommend this one, which shows America’s Cup thoroughbreds “Volunteer” and “Thistle”‘ crossing tacks…and includes a handy animated summary of the race itself). Thanks to Dave McCreary at Scuttlebutt Europe for finding Mecray’s gem of a site…
Port Crossing: “Hey, English Dudes! You might as well break out the tea because you’re done…”
Category: Uncategorized
Hillary Talks Everest…: Just cruising the web I came across a fascinating interview Outside did with Edmund Hillary in 1999, shortly after the body of George Mallory was discovered on the mountain. Click here to read the full interview, which is entirely refreshing for its modesty, its sanity, and its perspective. Here’s some of the best stuff, though:
A self-described “average bloke,” Sir Edmund Hillary made one of the century’s landmark feats seem properly human and straightforward. His most famous quotation after summiting Mount Everest with Tenzing Norgay on May 29, 1953, isn’t anything pretentious or enigmatic but rather a simple aside to expedition mate George Lowe: “Well, George, we knocked the bastard off.”
He went on to knock off another half-dozen Himalayan peaks, drove a tractor to the South Pole, took jet-boats up the Ganges, and launched the Himalayan Trust, which has built 30 schools, two hospitals, and 12 medical clinics in Nepal’s Khumbu region, and gave proper honors to his climbing partner, Tenzing Norgay, right up until Norgay died 13 years ago….
OUTSIDE:
With the recent discovery of George Leigh Mallory’s body, the burning issue is, once again: Who got to the top of Everest first? Do you mind tackling that question?
SIR EDMUND HILLARY:
No. I don’t find it very hard to answer, to tell you the truth. I have two replies really. One is that I regarded Mallory as a heroic figure in my younger days, and if he had succeeded in getting to the top I think it would be fantastic. However, I have always felt that you haven’t completed the job on the mountain until you get safely to the bottom again, so even if they had discovered that Mallory had been first to the top, I could at least claim I had been the first person to get to the top and then safely down. [Laughs]…
It must have seemed daunting to make an attempt after other great climbers had failed to return. What did you encounter as you approached the summit, and were you and Tenzing confident that you would make it?
When Tenzing and I were climbing the long steep slope to the South Summit, the snow was very soft. It seemed on the dangerous side for a potential avalanche, so I turned to Tenzing and said, “What do you think of it?” He said that he didn’t like it very much, and I said, “Will we carry on by this route?” Tenzing looked for a moment and said, “Just as you like.” So we carried on. [Laughs] There was never any question that we wouldn’t push on, and we found that the conditions did improve, and we finally reached the South Summit.
We looked along the summit ridge to the top of the mountain, and it was quite impressive. In those days, we used our ice axes to cut steps. Nowadays nobody cuts steps because they have much better equipment. But I led down onto the ridge, and I cut steps all the way along it, until about halfway, when we came upon an abrupt section, a rock step. At 29,000 feet, nearly, this looked rather formidable.
But on the right-hand side, I noticed a narrow crack where the ice was breaking away from the rock. It looked just large enough for me to crawl inside, so I wriggled and jammed my way up and reached the top of the step—the one now called the Hillary Step.
It was then for the first time that I knew that we were going to get to the top. Earlier in the expedition, I was never absolutely confident that we would be successful. All I knew was that if we gave it everything we had, then we might have a good chance. But I did have a sort of a sneaking feeling that if anyone got to the top, it could well be me…
What were you feelings when you summited?
I didn’t jump around and throw my arms in the air. My feeling was essentially one of considerable satisfaction.
In many ways, Tenzing was more emotional than I was. In a sort of Western fashion, I reached out my hand to shake his, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He threw his arms around my shoulders and gave me a hug. And I gave him a hug, too.
When we got back to Base Camp, one of the members of the expedition brought out a bottle of rum. We weren’t great drinkers on this trip, but he poured some into our various mugs and we drank it down. Because of the altitude, we were quite affected by it. Someone turned on a radio and picked up the BBC in London just as they were announcing that our British expedition had succeeded in reaching the summit. And for the first time, it struck me. We got to the top. If the BBC announces it, it must be right.
Many journalists at the time asked whether you or Tenzing reached the top first. Did it matter to either of you who first set foot on the summit?
The question of who reaches the top of a mountain first is completely unimportant to the climbers involved. It was only afterwards that the media in Nepal and in India brought up this question. It was a very uncomfortable period for us. The media were constantly harassing us. I knew the answer, of course, as did Tenzing, but we did not regard it as being very important. We finally agreed that we would say that we reached the summit almost together. In actual fact, as I wrote in my book and as Tenzing has written in his book, I was leading at the particular time and did actually set foot on the summit a few meters ahead of Tenzing. But as far as we were concerned, we had reached the summit together.
How did you feel about all of the attention you received after summiting?
I regarded it all as a bit of a joke, to tell you the honest truth. I realized that we had done quite well, but we just climbed a mountain. It didn’t warrant all the reaction that there had been from the world. I’ve tried to maintain that attitude ever since. These challenges are great, and they are very satisfying, but they are certainly not the beginning or end of the world.
Ahh, an era when men were modest…
Hillary and Tenzing: “Okay, what’s next…?”
Wetass Video Vault…: Man vs. Beast. Sometimes the humans win, and sometimes the animals win…
Score one for this speedy conservationist…
The lion hunt is appalling. It’s hard to believe people really get their rocks off this way. Too bad the lion only got in a glancing blow…
“Hey, Loser! How about you try it without all the guns? You’re paying a lot of money and that will be much more exciting…”
Vignettes From The Southern Ocean–Ellen E-mail: Another long(ish) e-mail from Ellen MacArthur (where does she find the time?) on life in the Southern Ocean. Amazingly, she continues to find beauty and inspiration, despite appalling fatigue and difficult sailing conditions:
“Well, things have been quite tough over the last few days… We’re in a very unstable wind situation, and poor B&Q has been stopping and starting like there’s no tomorrow. The sky is blue mainly, but there are many clouds – some angry, some not – which come in towards us like angry demons to attack us with their angry icy gusts. Yesterday we had a few pearlers where the wind reached over 38 knots sustaining 35 [knots] for 40 minutes… The sky went black, and the sea a silky grey as the hail stones poured down from the heavens to batter the waters surface. B&Q was flying, surfing into the high 20’s, sailing deep, down the waves, on the limit – but thankfully not over. I made the most of the second such storm to collect some spare water – so went forward to the mast to hold the bucket under the sail. The water fell – just above freezing temperature – as it melted off the sail. As I watched the storm pass over us my skin stung as the hefty hailstones banged into me, they clattered off the deck so they must have been hitting hard – I guess they’ve fallen a long way! I saved 2 litres of drinking water then washed some thermals with the rest – though little smells now as it’s so cold but that will all change when things warm up! Last night we had wind all over the place – and strength from 5 knots to 38 knots. We felt as if we were weaving in and out of the wind – somehow evading it… Frustrating and exhausting with so many sail changes [11 in 24 hours]. I managed a few hours of troubled sleep – waking each time to the ear-piercing alarm telling me once again the wind had risen. I dragged myself off the floor where I was huddled in my oilskins under a fleece blanket – and looked to the sky to see yet another demon black cloud. Though the night was hard and exhausting, there was a really beautiful aspect – sunset was magnificent with the orange glow lighting up the waves, and the birds around us lit up by this ‘warmth’ of light. It’s amazing to see the darkest clouds blacken the sky but the boat before it glowing as before a winter’s fire. Just stunning. Now I can see the sky at night I realise that the dusk just runs in to night, and it never really gets dark at night. In fact, there is always that golden glow on the horizon – dusk melting into dawn then bringing the new day. At least the nights are short. This morning things are a little more stable and the decision is which sails to put up. I’m my own worst enemy in these situations, always wanting B&Q to be sailing as well as she possibly can be – that’s hard in the squally conditions though – hard when the wind speeds are very hard to predict. But I made myself useful, telling myself to give it an hour or so… Putting safety on the tramp lashings, bailing out the three buckets full of water from the windward float. I tried to seal it better this time with silicone. It seems just yesterday I was in there bailing out a few buckets. It’s a bizarre feeling sitting with your head poking out of the float – it’s narrow, but about as deep as I am tall – so when the hatch is out you can stand on the hull – I felt like a character out of wacky races, my little head poking out of such a huge graceful shape. I smiled anyway but I guess being out here alone kind of does that to you!
ellen xx”
She’s more than 60 hours ahead of Joyon’s record. But look what it’s doing to her hand…
“Damn, I’ve got about 2 hours of peeling to do tonight…”
Trans-Atlantic Beach Cat Crossing: If you had to select a craft on which to cross the Atlantic you wouldn’t–at least if you don’t like to suffer–choose a 20-foot beach cat. But in the world of sailing there’s always someone willing to sail somewhere on some ridiculous craft, usually in an attempt to set some sort of new record. And the transatlantic beach cat record, while not exactly popular, has gained enough respectability over the years that it’s not too surprising that there are two Italians (Andrea Gancia and Matteo Miceli) who right now are in the middle of a run from Dakar to Guadalupe, aboard a 20-footer. As of this morning they had sailed 1430 miles and had 1137 to go. According to their calculations they are 272 miles ahead of the record pace, and I’d tell you more about how it is all going except their daily logs are all in Italian. They do however, have a pretty useful history of this record (in English) on the site:
“The idea of crossing the Atlantic with a sport catamaran was born in 1986, when two attempts took place.
The first was by Frenchmen Daniel Pradel and Tony Laurent, who set the record in 18 days and 22 hours.
The second attempt was made, that same year, by the renowned Primagaz skippers Laurent Bourgnon and Frederic Geraldi, who took two days less than the French.
In 1993, two Frenchmen tried to better their record, with a KL18, but they took 21 days and 6 hours.
Nobody did better than Bourgnon and Geraldi until 1999, when the record was shattered by Hans Bouscholte and Gerard Navarin, sailing on a NACRA, who set the new record of 15 days, 2 hours and 26 minutes.”
And here’s a description of their custom-designed ride:
“Balance Ocean Cat 20′ is a 20 foot catamaran, designed by Sito Avilès Ramos specially to beat the Atlantic record with a two-handed boat. The large number of watertight compartments, seven on each hull and a double crash-box at the bows makes it unsinkable; moreover, the use of carbon fiber remarkably reduces its weight and makes this catamaran extremely rigid and resistant.”
This is a very, very tough physical challenge, with blazing sun, endless salt water spray, and absolutely no compromise in the way of comfort. So hats off to Gancia and Miceli, and we wish them fair winds….
Transatlantic Duo: “Excuse me, Matteo. It’s a nice boat and we’re going fast, but what do I do when I have to pee…?”
Boesmansgat Body Recovery…: In November I posted a report on a world record 270 meter dive made by Australian Dave Shaw in the deep water cave called Boesmansgat (Dutch (I think?) for “Bushman’s Cave”). Not only did Shaw set a new world depth record, he came across the corpse of a diver named Deon Dreyer, who died in the cave some ten years earlier. Shaw got in touch with me to correct a point or two in my report, and it turns out he’s a great guy. So great, in fact, he’s about to go back into Boesmansgat sometime in the coming week to make an attempt to recover Dreyer’s body. Click here to watch a news clip about Shaw’s discovery of the body and a good description of what Boesmansgat is like. This story has some good details about Shaw’s discovery and Dreyer’s death:
“Dave Shaw looked me straight in the eye and made me a very big promise. He said, ‘I will fetch your son.’ I believe he is the man who will go down 271 metres underwater to bring back my boy,” Theo Dreyer says.
For the past 10 years, the body of 20-year-old Deon Dreyer has been lying at the bottom of Bushman’s Cave near Danielskuil in the Northern Cape in silt 271m underwater…
“As I swept left with my light, I saw a body as plain as day,” Shaw wrote in his dive report. “He was lying on his back, arms in the air and legs outstretched.”
There was a chain around the skeleton’s wrist. His diving mask and fins were still in place.
Shaw attached his guideline to the diver’s remains and terminated the dive. The remains are believed to belong to Deon, who disappeared on December 17, 1994…
According to Theo, Deon, who raced modified cars, hunted, dived and was a whiz with electronics, had a passion for living on the edge.
“Deon began scuba-diving when he was 17 and had clocked about 200 dives. He did everything to the fullest extent. For him, diving became more than just watching fish. He got into technical (deep-water) diving because the challenge was bigger. He has also shared some of the best scuba mask reviews on his site.”
Theo says Deon may have been an adrenaline junkie but he was not reckless.
“He planned his dives meticulously. Before every dive he prayed.”
On December 17, 1994, Deon was part of a support crew for SA Cave Diving Association divers whose target was to dive 150m.
A day before the planned dive, the team went on a “bounce”, which is dive-speak for a reconnaissance. On their way back up, at 60m, Deon gave the three-finger diver’s hand signal to his buddy, indicating that everything was OK.
In the accident report team leader Dietloff Giliomee wrote: “Then at 50m we noticed a light below us. An eternity of confusion followed which could have lasted seconds. It was only when John-Wesley (Franklin) signed a cut-throat gesture that I realised what was happening. I started to descend for a chase. Back at 50m I estimated that Deon was at least another 40m below us, and his fading light indicated that he was dropping fast. I decided it was a suicide chase and we abandoned the effort.”
Theo believes his son had deep-water blackout, a rare event when a diver passes out because of the effect of gases under pressure at extreme depth on the body.
“A light switch just went off and that is it, it’s goodbye. He sank fast. The divers just saw the beam of his torch,” Theo says.
Heartbreaking. And this story details some of the technical aspects of Shaw’s upcoming recovery attempt:
“I plan on spending up to five minutes at 270m recovering the body,” [Shaw] wrote.
“If I have to bailout, the dive will extend to 764 minutes.
“At the bottom, one tank will last just 3-4 minutes.
“Once on the bottom, I have to cut Deon out of his dive harness, place him in a body bag (custom built), hook a strong wire line to the dive gear, get back to the drop line with the body bag and the other end of the line fastened to the dive gear, hook that line to the drop line, and then start my ascent, with the body.
“Quite a lot to achieve in five minutes.”
He said a portable, two man recompression chamber would be posted on the surface, 70m up from the actual cave entrance, in case of complications.
There would be a mine rescue team on standby to get the diver from the cave entrance to the chamber and a doctor and other medical staff and equipment on hand.
I’ve been in touch with Shaw and will post any reports he sends on the recovery attempt. It’s no simple task to get to that depth and back again alive, particularly with a body, so keep your fingers crossed…
Deep Diver Dave Shaw: “Well, you’d look funny, too, if you’d just dived to 270 meters AND seen a skeleton…”
Have A Wetass (and Storm Front-free) Weekend…:
Fistfight Of The Week…: Well, it seems that the surfers and snowboarders have decided to take a break, so there hasn’t been any lame brawling to post. Luckily, if you are in need of two morons trying to punch each other’s lights out, you can always count on the National Hockey League. Check this out (courtesy of West Coast contributing editor (and high school classmate) David Scully, who–if memory serves–used to be quite the enforcer on ice himself). No wonder the NHL is on hold for the season. Hey, maybe these guys should take up surfing…
“So where are you headed this year? Pipeline?…”Nah, I’m thinking Jaws, after I finish kicking your ass, that is…”
Orgies On Everest…?: Speaking of testosterone (see below), Professor Ralph Pettman of Victoria University is launching a global movement to protest…wait for it…base camp sex on Everest:
He said having sex – known as “making sauce” to Sherpas – was as much a desecration of the sacred mountain as rubbish and pollution. “It’s very much an issue of an ongoing problem which is really not recognised. Just because (these issues are) not material doesn’t make them less important.”
Footprints Tours guide John McKinnon, who has been travelling to Nepal since the 1960s and lived there for two years, said he was astonished at the proposals. He doubted Sherpa were offended by tourists having sex.
“I find that claim rather questionable. Sherpas have a very raunchy sense of humour,” he said.
Other skeptics say that climbers are simply too tired at altitude to “make sauce.” So, is the 5-mile high club crowded or not? Sounds like an investigation for Explorer’s Web and their Base Camp MD. Or Playboy…
Uncovered Investigators?: “For some reason Hef is sending us to a place called Chomolungma to see what happens…”
A Moist And Odiferous Vignette From The Vendee Globe…: Mike Golding must not want to talk about strategy much, because he seems to spend a lot of his phone time philosophizing and musing about one thing and another. Today’s exegesis takes us deep into the issues of hygiene aboard an Open 60 sailing around the world. Brace yourself:
“I am minging,” admitted Golding. “I try to have a full body wash with hot water. I tend to do that when I shave roughly once a week.” Other offshore sailors traditionally swab themselves down with ‘wet wipes’ but Golding says these don’t leave him feeling clean.
In terms of clothing Golding wears ‘layers’ of thermals when it is cold as wearing multiple thin layers of thermal-wear is more effective at trapping heat than one thick layer. For the south Golding has four sets of underlayers (worn closest to the skin) plus two extra tops, two sets of mid-layer thermals and two sets of foul weather gear – all of it made by Musto.
He usually rotates his thermals once they have got excessively wet from working on deck through sweat or salt water. “You change them if you are unlucky once every four or five days. If you are lucky you might be able to last a week. But it is unlikely. What normally encourages me to change is if I haven’t eaten and I use that as a pick-me-up and I use washing as a pick-me-up because you always feel better afterwards.”
Getting dowsed in salt water whenever he goes on deck also takes its toll (even though the Southern Ocean it is less salty than the Atlantic) with inevitable salt sores particularly around the cuffs and neck. “You can’t avoid them. The only cure is fresh water and that lasts all of five minutes.”
So far in this Vendee Globe Golding says he hasn’t washed his hair. “Frankly it is fine. It sorts itself out because after a while your natural oils recover because normally we are washing our hair so much your hair doesn’t get the benefit of the natural oils. If you leave it it comes right.”
Golding admits that he regularly has trouble with his feet during long races like this. “Your feet really suffer and you develop lots of hard skin on your feet from being constantly immersed. I’m afraid it got so bad for me the other night I had to take a Stanley blade to the soles of my feet to get the hard skin off. It gets very uncomfortable when your feet dry out, as it all tightens up and your feet ache.”
Down below the smell of festering human is not that bad at present says Golding. However this all stands to change once he is back into the Atlantic and down below starts warming up again.
An intriguing but little known feature of sailing singlehanded non-stop around the world is that due to the amount of time they spend alone at sea the amount of testosterone male skippers produce drops to a very low level. Aside from beard growth lack of testosterone in men can affect the pitch of the voice, temper and as well as a host of more complex side issues… “You certainly don’t need to shave as much when you are out here because your beard slows down,” says Golding. “And it probably changes your demeanour a little. You are less prone to getting angry. It doesn’t mean you are not upset, but you don’t get angry.”
The original round-the-worlders used to change their underwear just once or twice, so I suppose this is an improvement. But testosterone suppression? Who knew?
Gaseous Golding: “This may look like champagne, but actually it’s cologne. And I’m about to dump the entire bottle over my head…”
The Earthist Chronicles 