Weirdass Sports–Eye Squirting: Not sure how anyone came up with this one. But meet Ilker Yilmaz, who snorts milk up his nose and squirts it out of his eye. Yesterday Yilmaz set a new world record (verification pending; is there any record that Guinness WON’T accept?), squirting milk from his eye 2 meters 79.5 centimeters (just over 9 feet). That beat the old record of 2 meters 61 centimeters. “I’m happy and proud that I can get Turkey in the record book even if it’s for milk squirting,” said the 28-year-old construction worker. Don’t try to match his feat at home, though. Yilmaz is one of only a few people in the world who can get milk from nose to eye, thanks to an anomaly in a tear duct (I wonder how he discovered it…?). This guy must have been a huge hit in grade school…

“Damn, it’s hard to concentrate with all the cats milling around…”
(Photo: AP)
Category: Uncategorized
Annals Of Achievement–Underwater Ubermensch: Scuba diver Jerry Hall (no, not Mick’s former wife; now that would be a story), has just set a new world record for staying underwater, breaking his old record of 71 hours. How long has he been swilling around on the bottom of Tennessee’s Watauga Lake, right off the Fish Springs Marina pier? Just over 95 hours. That’s just shy of four days for all you math geniuses, and Hall plans to keep going until he starts to feel pain or his feet shrivel off. So, what are the logistics of hanging around underwater for days on end? Here’s a summary from Jeff Dudas, editor of Underwater Times:
“He is averaging about four hours of sleep, and is eating apples, cheese cubes, carrots, tomato soup and the occasional Snickers bar.
Hall is spending his time underwater working out, writing notes to his dive team, playing checkers with his 11-year-old son, Seth, also a certified diver, and exchanging love letters, via tablets transported by dive team members, with his wife, Vicky.
Hall is using a powerful underwater speaker designed by Lubell Laboratories to listen to local media sponsor, Electric 94.9 radio and has even been seen dancing underwater.
At this point in his 2002 dive, Hall was in the final stretches and was experiencing agonizing pain in his hands and feet. The rigors of being underwater for 70 hours had taken its toll. Realizing this was an obstacle to over come with a new dive attempt, after thorough research, the dive team discovered a product manufactured in their own backyard.
Sorbolene, an intensive moisturizer manufactured by Del-Ray Dermatologicals in Johnson City, TN is being used to coat his hands and feet. At the halfway point to nearly 95 hours, Hall is experiencing absolutely no pain in his hands or feet. During his last sock change, the dive team reported that Hall’s feet are in perfect condition, with only slight shriveling to the bottom.”
“Sorbolene”, eh? Sounds like good sh*t. So let’s sit back and wait for the guy to surface. His dive crew is joking that the only way to get him out now is to drain the lake…

“Dr. Enuf?! You think I need a laxative in a wet suit?! I thought you were sending down Pabst beer…!”
“Mekong” Mick’s Wildass Adventure–Chapter 16: In which Mick parties too hard, hooks up with a New Zealand expedition, and visits a resort…:
“I camped in a small rural Lao village that night and swapped stories by candle light with the bemused locals who could hardly believe that I had paddled down from Tibet nor that I could speak Lao to boot. Speaking Lao makes it all the more difficult to s ay no to the endless shots rice whisky that inevitably break out around dinner time. After more than 2 months of not drinking alcohol it wasn’t long before I went from tipsy, to bullet proof to a mess. I can only assume that the boat race was arranged somewhere between the bullet proof and mess stages of the evening but the 4.30 am chorus of pigs and chickens under the stilted, thatch house was soon followed by the murmurings of a crowd of locals who gathered outside patiently waiting for the big event to start.
I opened my eyes to the sight of about 15 people who had been sitting there watching me sleep for god knows how long before crawling out of bed with a throbbing headache. After a breakfast of bamboo soup and sticky rice there was no getting out of it. I had to race 3 strapping young fishermen in a long sleek wooden pirogue. There’s nothing Lao people love more than a good boat race and all 120 or so people from the village came down to watch their boys whoop the “falang” (Foreigner in Lao language). I must have been terribly drunk to agree to such a challenge. Their boat was twice as long as mine and about the same width. Over the 300-meter course the boys pulled away by about 20 meters and by the end of it I was trying my best no t to hurl breakfast into the river as the delighted crowd cheered their boys home. Never again! I promised myself.
The next day I bumped into the New Zealanders. They were a great bunch of people and we spent hours swapping stories and experiences from the upper Mekong. Like my trip their expedition had been plagued by unforeseen problems. They had spent 3 full weeks in Jinghong attempting to get their imported kayaks out of customs and sorting out p permits to cross by kayak into Laos. To their distress they were also forced to leave the Mekong Valley through much of the Tibetan section because the roads that they were told were bike-able through the area did not exist.
Eventually we bade farewell and I paddled on ahead to the Paradise Casino Resort, an obscurely located but pleasant resort among the dense forests of North West Myanmar. A friend had arranged a sponsored stay at the resort and after many weeks of camping, village stays and budget guesthouses it was a welcome change. Rice and 2-minute noodles were replaced with sushi and roast beef and with five or six meals per day both Brian and I managed to put on 3 kilos in just over a week. Thanks Ton!!
We attempted to film in the countryside around the resort which was protected by a Burmese military garrison just upstream but were informed that even with an escort it would be too risky with strong rebel activity in the area so we had to settle for the sushi and Australian wines instead of the harsh realities of rural life in North East Myanmar.
We crossed into Thailand at Chiang Saen to pick up the newest member of the team Hutch Brown from Main USA. Along with another 2 cameras and a hunger to explore the Mekong basin hutch also brought new sea kayaks sponsored by feel free kayaks and arranged by Admotive Thailand making our expedition far more efficient t. You guys rock!”
Tomorrow: Fishing, festivals, and a man named “Thong”…

“Thank God, someone’s finally turning the sun off. I have the hangover that ate Beijing…”
(Photo: Courtesy Lynley O’Shea)
Annals Of Achievement–Double Transat: TWC’s latest hero, Anne Quemere, finished her 3300 mile west-east Atlantic crossing on Monday, becoming the first woman to row the Atlantic both ways. It took her 87 days, 12 hours and 15 minutes, a grueling, testing voyage. She never complained, she always saw the beauty in the ocean (even when it was cutting her no breaks and doing its best to break her), and she always maintained her sense of humor. Here’s an excerpt from her last diary entry, describing what it is like to be picked up by her friends and supporters in a boat called Noelie:
“I rowed the last 36 miles like crazy, helped by a good NW wind that pushed me down to 45.58 N but mainly helped me to cross the 5.12 W, my finishing line, at 3:15 U.T. My joy is indescribable as, all exited, I admire the fireworks fired from the Noelie. I thought I would choke under the kisses as I wobbled aboard the Noelie, having lost the habit of standing up. This is not land yet. But I am home among my men who always helped me and watched me over for the past two days. Everything happens quickly and the boat is now in tow. It looks new to me though I have abused it for 3300 some miles. I admire the lines of the Sardine Connetable and I am proud to have taken it to the end of the road. The men appear exhausted by the sleepless nights; I do not look any better though they claim the contrary-very flattering! It is a fact that the present happiness erases all the bad times. Everything I have missed for so long is available: fresh fruits, yogurt, and sweet candy bars! I am trying not to stuff my face.”
Stuff away, Anne. You deserve it…

Double-Atlantic Anne: “Damn, I’m happy to finish but I’m running out of oceans to row….”
Wetass Video Of The Week: Skydiving is a pretty exciting sport. But it’s even more exciting to jump out of a plane…WITHOUT WEARING THE CHUTE! I don’t know if this guy is a Wetass or a Dumbass (it’s such a fine line), but click here to watch him pull it off (and talk about it all the way down). Crazy sh*t….

“Ho-hum, this is sort of boring. Maybe next time I’ll….”
(Photo: Stuart Meacock)
“Mekong” Mick’s Wildass Adventure–Chapter 15: Just got another dipstach from Mick’s Mum, Lynley (she’s a great lady). The Mekong is getting tamer as Mick crosses into Laos, but he still manages to find a way to kiss death…by annoying a King Cobra:
“As I approached the international border checkpoint at Jinghong I was made aware that another bunch of foreigners had just paddled through the previous day. It was a team of New Zealanders who had also been undertaking a first descent of the Mekong valley by mountain bike, foot and kayak. As far as I know their expedition and my own are the only two attempts to explore the entire Mekong valley since the failed French Mekong Expedition in 1866. I find it incredible that after well over a hundred years since the French were forced to cancel their expedition near Dali in Yunnan that the next two attempts are undertaken simultaneously!
I crossed into Laos and surprisingly was let in without so much as paying for the visa. The border guards just assumed that I was a straggler from the kiwi group and stamped me in on their permit. For the sake of simplicity I just went along with it.
I paddled down long sections of swirl rapids until I noticed that what originally appeared to be a stick swaying in the current was actually a king cobra attempting to swim across the Mekong. Not one to miss a photo opportunity I paddled as close as I safely could and began pulling my camera out. I know cobras were good swimmers as I had seen a few cross-creeks in the past but this guy was exceptional. I watched on as he was dragged into a succession of large whirlpools. He appeared almost completely un-phased as each whirlpool swirled him around until he would reach the apex and be sucked under but with a few quick whips of his tail he would fight his way free before slowly getting dragged into the next brooding whirlpool and so on.
While getting my camera out I took my eye off the eight ball for a couple of moments and before I new it I was inadvertently sucked into a whirlpool with him. He disappeared under the boat and there was a tense couple of seconds as I waited to see where he would pop up. I saw his tail flick just to the right of my kayak and he was gone again as the whirlpool spun me around. To be bitten by a king cobra in remote country such as this would almost certainly be fatal so I kept my elbows up high and my paddle at the ready to fend the snake off should he try to attack.
Eventually to my relief he popped up just 3 meters in front of me and as the whirlpool dissipated he decided to play dead. “Perfect chance to get that shot” I thought as I proceeded to get my camera out and start snapping. Just as I lined up for the second shot he turned and started swimming straight for me. I clicked again and quickly clenched the camera strap in my teeth before reaching for my paddle by which time he had his head up over the bow and was closing in fast. With instinctual speed I flicked him back into the water with my paddle blade and he disappeared again. This time there was a very tense couple of seconds as I waited, paddle at the ready imagining the cobra launching up out of the water for my throat. Fortunately when I next saw him he was heading for shore so I took another couple of snaps of him in flight. It was a pretty wild experience. I estimate that he swam over 2km during his crossing of the river.”
Tomorrow: Mick gets drunk, gets his butt kicked in a race with some locals, and hurls his breakfast into the Big Muddy…

“Holy Sh*t! The snakes out here are even tougher than I am…”
(Photo: Courtesy Lynley O’Shea)
Wetass Sport #41–Bog Snorkelling: Well, why not? You can come up with all sorts of stupid sports in pubs, and this is one of the most successful. This wacko competition was born 19 years ago in the warm beer of Llanwrtyd Wells, in Wales (can you imagine a Welsh version of scrabble?). This is the same place that came up with the man versus horse marathon TWC wrote about earlier this year, so clearly the residents of this place are: a) in the pub alot; and b) pretty creative. Anyhow, bog snorkelling requires the, umm, athlete, to swim (using flipper power alone) two lengths of a 60-yard trench at the Waen Rhydd Peat bog. This year’s competition pulled in 140 competitors from as far away as South Africa, Zambia, Australia and New Zealand. The winner, however, was a Brit, 17-year old Philip John, who won for the third straight year (but failed to lower his bog snorkelling world record of 1 minute 35 seconds). I wonder if he puts “Bog Snorkelling World Champion” on his CV? There’s a mountain biking version, too. These sports should definitely be in the Wetass Olympics (see below)…

Bog Paddle: “Uh-oh. I think a muskrat is chewing on my flipper…”
(Photo: BBC)
Annals Of Achievement–English Channel At 70-Years?: No problem, at least for Connecticut resident and retired airline pilot George Brunstad, who over the weekend spent 16 hours swimming the 25 miles of frigid, dangerous waters. That makes him the oldest human to swim the Channel (the previous record was held by a 67-year old). How did he do it? He trained in Long Island Sound and, gulp, the chilly, chilly waters of Maine. Then he slathered himself in lanolin and petroleum jelly. Then he swam, and swam, and swam, with escort swimmers pulling alongside for a few minutes every six hours to steer him in the right direction. In total, taking into account the tides, the guy probably swam 32 miles, and in doing it managed to raise $11,000 for a Haitian orphanage. How did he feel the next day? “Stiff and sore.” And wrinkled…?

Gonzo George: “Goddamn, it’s cold! And I’m missing “Golden Girls” again…”
The Wetass Olympics: Bored with synchronized swimming, rhythmic gymnastics and dressage? Check out these more, umm, thrilling sports (courtesy of the photoshoppers at Worth 1000)…



Wetass Book Recommendation–Shadow Divers: When I was in Ireland, I read the latest book to conquer the adventure genre. Shadow Divers by Robert Kurson is about two deep wreck divers who discover a WWII German U-Boat off the coast of New Jersey. Problem is, no one has any record of the U-Boat, so its identity is a mystery. It’s also a killer, and three divers lose their lives trying to explore it. The book is a fantastic look at the thrills and dangers of deep wreck diving, and the cult that lives for getting to wrecks (like the Andrea Doria) that are 200 feet below the surface, and scooping up (or looting, depending on your perspective) artifacts. It then morphs into a gripping historical detective story, as the divers get obsessed with identifying the wreck. Here’s the NY Times review, or read all about it at the author’s website. Best book I’ve read in a long time…
