RYA Competent Crew Weekend #3 - 13/6/2009 - 14/6/2009

Our third weekend with the comp crew course connected us with the third of three instructors and as far as learning went, it was the best weekend of the bunch.

Instructor Bob and John were enjoying themselves more than this photo suggests.

Our afternoon game was to pull up to the big yellow thing without hitting it. Everybody got a shot. Tom's run was the best among the students.

Instructor Bob making friends

Our parking space for the evening at the Holy Loch Marina

Blindfolded Jon sails the Clyde

Instructor Bob and Brian during the very useful blindfolded sailing exercise. No, we didn't hit anything, but apparently during my shot, I was photographed by a big group of passing scuba divers.

RYA Competent Crew Weekend #2 - 6/6/2009 - 7/6/2009

For weekend 2, Greg was our instructor and a very different personality from John. I got the impression that the two of them probably wouldn’t be sailing buddies. The routine was pretty much the same as before. Slept in the boat in the marina on Friday night and made a relatively early start for Saturday morning. The boys minus Brian were disappointed that they were not allowed their bacon rolls for breakfast, but looked forward to the promised bacon roll brunch once we were underway. Greg was much more thorough so we did an abridged repeat of the safety briefing and set out from Largs marina about mid-morning. Unlike the previous weekend, Greg drove us out from the marina.

This weekend, we started off with plenty of wind. The previous crew had put two reefs in the sail and we left those in when we raised it. We took turns helming and I was second up. Our course wasn’t quite upwind so we didn’t have to tack. The wind was gusty, though, so every so often, I would get knocked off the course that Jon and John had routed. Greg explained how to look for the gusts of wind and anticipate them with steering corrections, which helped a lot. I felt like I was flailing before then, just getting bullied by wind. I broke the previous week’s record with a new one of 8.2knots, which was soon broken by Jon when his turn to helm came around.
Our plan for the day was to sail to Cove Bay, practise some skills and then have dinner at the hotel. The original plan of a stop at Dunoon was scrapped for lack of shelter from the wind. It was less northerly than the forecast promised. The omnivores’ promise of a brunch with bacon rolls was blown away by the wind.

The same promise of bacon roll brunch evaporated. Brian and I didn’t care but the rest of them had been looking forward to it. We continued north, past the Holy Loch and lunch became a working lunch. We arrived to Cove Bay in the mid afternoon and found the area quite sheltered as we had hoped. We had a "proper" late lunch and made reservations for dinner at the hotel.

With the time we had left before dinner, Greg taught us a bit more about how to cope with a man overboard. The boys weren’t too pleased that it was always a man overboard. My answer (women are usually too sensible to throw themselves off a perfectly good boat) was not appreciated. Greg showed and talked us through the process for recovering someone under engine power. Then he let Jon and John each have a shot. Most everything made sense to me, including why one would choose to recover the casualty from the leeward side (it’s more protective) but I didn’t quite get from their angles of approach why their side was the leeward side.

Dinner time came soon enough and Greg took over helming again. We picked up one of the hotel moorings and then assembled the dinghy to ferry us across. And again, lots of watching once it was assembled. Greg shuttled us across in 2 groups and we hiked up the bank to the hotel for a nice dinner. Brian amused me by being the high maintenance diner of the evening. I had choices on the menu, but he didn’t like any of them. After dinner, we repeated the dinghy procedure while trying to avoid the midges and stowed the dinghy for the evening. Part of the Competent Crew course involved some playtime in the dinghy. That playtime would be on the schedule for first thing if the wind continued to cooperate.

With several hours of daylight left and attention spans for sailing fading quickly, I introduced the rest of the crew to Pass the Pigs while Brian plied them with whisky. Pass the Pigs is Yahtzee with pig shaped dice, perfect for secluding us across the harbour from Dunoon, the apparent swine flu capital of Scotland. After lengthy rule explanations, playing as we rehashed them, Greg perfected his pig rolling technique and thrashed us all. Bedtime followed soon after.

The next morning, we followed another quick breakfast (with more promises of bacon roll brunch) with the expected dinghy adventures. Tom, Brian and I each got a shot in the dinghy. Our mission was to paddle around the boat and then paddle in to finish. Both Tom and Brian struggled with paddling it like a rowboat. To be fair, the oars for it were pathetically small and awkward. We were essentially rowing a raft like a rowboat with six inch wide oars. Rowing with too much commitment was likely to end in some mistake with oar placement in the water or, better, the oar falling out of its slot completely. In my shot, I rowed the dinghy like a proper rowboat. Slowly, else all of the bits might fall off, but reasonably effectively, I worked my way around the boat and even managed to make the turn at the bow reasonably tightly. On the other side, I had to row into the stern of the boat to finish and that’s where it went wrong for me. I don’t see very well behind my back so I went by sound. And missed. I set up again and went for it, just barely crashing into the stern sideways.

Dinghy adventures out of the way, Greg had us sail off the mooring and do the sailing man overboard drills. The procedures for recovering a casualty under sail were much more complicated so I appreciated the value of the under engine recovery procedure immediately. The two methods under sail involved either tacking or jibing and some other sailing terms for how to return to the casualty and keep him on the leeward side of the boat. Once again, Greg showed and talked through it before letting Jon and John have a shot at each method.

Man overboards pretty well done to death, we began to head back toward Largs under sail. After MOB practice, sailing made a bit more sense. Along the way, Greg discovered a problem with the head (sailor speak for toilet) so our sail was interrupted with a maritime plumbing crisis. When that wasn’t resolved quickly, Greg had us sheet in the main and continue the journey back to Largs under engine. During the trip, his diagnosis of the problem shifted several times to eventually identify the problem. Someone at some point had left the diverter valve in the wrong position, a blockage had formed in one of the outlet pipes and the sewage holding tank on board was not only full but under pressure. Brian and Greg spent at least the next hour attempting to first release the pressure on the tank and then clear the block. The expected niceties came spewing out the release valve several times.
At one point, a seal popped up behind the boat to see what we were up to. It didn’t stay around too long.

We cruised past Largs and stopped for a quick lunch on a borrowed mooring. One again, the omnivores were denied their bacon rolls in favour of a quick meal. The mooring wasn’t really intended for a boat our size, so we didn’t linger. We returned to Largs where Steve, the boat’s owner met us and proceeded to clear out the holding tank with the shopvac. Brian continued to help.

The task of mucking out the holding tank was not a glamorous job. I didn’t realise at first, but Steve intended to vacate the entire contents of the tank into the marina, which didn’t make me happy. The lack of much current meant it would have had plenty of time to fester there. On the upside, perhaps the inevitable fuel spilled from the fuel berth would have something else feeding on it. Brian got to witness and experience the worst of it. The first time Steve set up the shopvac, he put the hose on the wrong end. It blew instead of sucked. Brian laughed and set bet you won’t make that mistake again. Sadly, he did and he blew bits of wet excrement everywhere. Brian got a light dusting from about shoulder height down. Steve got the works and I think spit a few times after he managed to turn the vacuum off. When we got to the car to go home, I sent Brian to the shower first. He ended up having to wear stinky sailing clothes home because his on shore clothes were the ones that he was wearing at the time, but at least we didn’t have to smell holding tank anymore.

On approach to the evening's mooring.

Brian got the honour of picking up the mooring.

Dinnertime - hotel at Cove Bay.

Our midge-filled view back to the boat, from the beach before dinner.

Instructor Greg got the hang of Pass the Pigs and demonstrated his victorious technique to the rest of us.

Clear, calm morning meant dinghy practice was the first adventure of the day.

If the RYA offered a maritime plumbing qualification, Brian certainly earned it helping to muck out the blocked toilet.

RYA Competent Crew Course Weekend 1 - Dolphins! - 30/5/2009-31/5/2009

I am not sure if it was Brian or Jon who was the initial instigator, but the three of us signed up for a three weekend sailing course based out of Largs on the west coast. Jon is a keen sailor. He got his Day Skipper last year but wanted to build up more experience before chartering a boat on his own. Brian and I signed up for the entry level qualification, which is Competent Crew. We were joined by John and Tom, who as luck would have it, would be with us for all three weekends of the course. John was doing his Day Skipper practical course and Tom was another for Competent Crew.
Three different weekends and three different instructors meant three different teaching styles. We were fortunate that we got to sail the same boat all three times with otherwise no crew changes.

On our first weekend, we had John, who very quickly turned us loose on the boat to let us sail. I think he did that partly because Jon had his Day Skipper already and partly because he may have felt it important to get us sailing first, before throwing lots of the boring planning stuff at us.

After a long safety briefing, we motored out of Largs harbour and across to Millport in Great Cumbrae Island. I got to drive for most of it, including the approach to anchor. John left Jon to look after me and he took the rest of the crew forward to set the anchor. We had about two spare metres and a rising tide, so in theory, should have no problems with getting stuck. We took a lunch break and discussed the afternoon and evening plans. Because the weather was nice, sunshine and reasonably warm, John wanted us to get our night hours out of the way. If the weather turned bad on the other weekends, we would be especially grateful to have those hours done. End of May meant night hours wouldn’t start until 10pm. Early/mid June would have been worse still. We weren’t thrilled with a 2am finish, but would have been less thrilled with a later finish in less appealing weather.

After lunch, we got out the sails and sailed off the anchor with a plan to reach Lochranza on the isle of Arran first, take a break for dinner and then head for the Kyles of Bute at night. Jon and John painstakingly plotted a course for us to Lochranza but instructor John told them to bag it and just sail visually. The wind kicked up for us on the journey to Lochranza so we quite quickly found ourselves moving at a good speed. Instructor John retreated to the cabin and left us to it for a while. Still at the helm, I reached just under 7 knots, I think. Brian helmed after me and broke my speed record with 7.2 knots. Braggart.

As we approached the Arran coast, the wind kicked up beyond its steady force 4/5 and several times the helm fought back against Brian. Collectively, with Jon to lead us through it, we decided to put a reef in the sail. Putting in a reef means drawing in a portion of the sail to make it smaller and therefore easier to use. The stronger the wind, the more reefs you put in to compensate. Our sail had rigging for up to 3 reefs but we only needed the one. Brian could steer again.

Soon after we put the reef in, the wind died. We couldn’t tell if it was the hills on the north side of Arran blocking the wind for us or the usual late afternoon winds subsiding. Either way, after chasing the wind around for a while, we had to switch to engine to make the rest of the journey to Lochranza.

We rocked up to Lochranza in time to be welcomed by the resident midges. As twilight approached and the wind disappeared, the welcoming committee grew larger. Walking around the harbour was ok but standing still not so good. After a quick look around, we retreated to the boat to make dinner.

It felt like hardly no time had passed at all by the time 10pm arrived. We set out for the Kyles, heading roughly northeast. Sunset disappeared into twilight which disappeared into almost night. We were able to sail at 3 knots for about an hour before deciding yet again that to get where we needed to get, we would have to use the engine.

Day skipper trainee John helmed the entire four hours into the darkness as we fussed about which shapes corresponded to what points on the map. Jon made a list of all the known objects we would pass, including buoys and lighthouses so we would know we were headed the right way. Eyes can play tricks on you and you can naturally categorise lights based on brightness and imagine them closer or farther away. Frequent consultations with the chart helped offset this tendency, but it is impossible to wipe it away completely. Cabin lights were kept to red only to not interfere too much with night vision.

As we approached the red can channel markers one after the other, Jon, John and John realised that we would not make our planned destination for the evening. After much discussion, they chose an alternate harbour to make home sweet home for the night. We rocked up promptly for 2am and the final challenge for all of us was picking up a mooring in the dark. Only instructor John and Jon had ever done that before and I think instructor John was the only one who had done it at night. Comedy followed with us approaching too quickly, not communicating loud enough (partly for not wanting to wake the neighbours and the rest from inexperience), and driving over the mooring. Jon and I got tangled up in each other in the bow since we were clipped into the safety line. Instructor John ended up fishing the mooring out about three quarters of the way down the boat on the wrong side from intended. Mistakes or not, we were on the mooring. Bedtime. Well, whisky and wine time (separate, not mixed) and then bedtime.

The late start the next morning was needed, not nearly enough sleep to make up for the long night though. The still morning gave way to a reasonable amount of wind with plenty of sunshine. We got to sail off the mooring.
Instructor John taught us about sail trimming the next morning more by doing than explaining. We had to sail into the wind, so lots of tacking followed. We got reasonably good at tacking and moving the headsail from side to side reasonably quickly.

Our treat of the weekend was a pod of dolphins. They don’t normally wander too far up the Clyde so the sighting was a rare one. Tom was the first to spot their telltale jumps from the water. They’re bigger and jump a bit higher than porpoises and travel together rather than as individuals. One of our tacks took us quite close and they came over to play in our bow wakes for a while. I took lots of pictures, missing more shots than I captured. The dolphins played for what seemed like a good 10 minutes before getting bored with our bow wake and finding a new boat playmate nearby. They reminded me a lot of my dog. Play play play... Bored now... Play play play elsewhere... Bored now... Play play play....

Not long after the dolphins disappeared and we got closer to the wrong sides of the islands between us and Largs, the wind abandoned us again. While it was enough to sail, it wasn’t enough to get us to Largs in the right time window for the next crew to take over. We fired up the engine and got back with a few minutes to spare. Before the drive home, we wandered into Largs town centre in search of ice cream and found a great place just across from the train station. The night hours took their toll, though. Jon, Brian and I were zombies for the drive home.

Our boat for the three weekends was Bolero IV.

Skipper John had John and Jon navigate while I was at the helm. The plan was pick up a mooring or drop an anchor at Millport (Great Cumbrae island), have lunch and then start sailing.

The rest of the boys learned how to drop the anchor while Jon stayed with me at the helm.

Brian strikes his movie star pose at the helm.

Brian silhouette at sunset (Lochranza, Isle of Arran)

Dolphins!

Dolphins!

Dolphins!

Dolphins!

Brian confirms that yes, the water is cold

Helming

Islay Whisky Festival - 22/5/2009 - 25/5/2009

Amy and Bram took a bit more stuff than we did, a bike trailer each compared to our two panniers each.

On the boat to Islay, Amy's strategy in the game Cheat seemed to be to collect all of the cards for herself rather than get rid of them.

Maartin and Brian cycle away from Port Ellen

The cycle from the Islay ferry to the distilleries in the south of the island was much more sober for some people than the cycle back to Emma's parents' guest house.

Lagavulin Distillery's open day was pretty good, too.

Amy's whisky face is about as good as mine (Bowmore distillery)

Group photo on the way to Bruichladdich

artistic bike by the sea

The party at Bruichladdich was the best of the open days while we were there. They're the only independent distillery on the island and much more of a boutique distillery. Sluggish economy and the slow nature of the whisky business means they're struggling. They have a few years to go yet before they bottle their first 10 year old under the new owners, so hopefully they can make it.

Amy led a ceilidh lesson for Lies and Maarten.

Amy's description of cycling in Orkney seemed to fit Islay cycling. Whichever direction we were cycling, the wind was blowing the other way.

The problem with all downhill to the Caol Ila Distillery is that it's all uphill on the way back. Enough free whisky might make you forget that point, though.

Kittens - 15/5/2009 - 16/5/2009

Over the weekend, Brian and I went to visit Amy and Bram in Auchtermuchty. They adopted kittens and we got to see them within their first few hours of exploring the cottage. Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum are sister and brother and are very different creatures. Photos and videos can be found here.

River Teith - 10/5/2009

Trip report coming soon

Alan waits out the faff.

Upstream view to the first bridge across the River Teith.

Squinty Brian

Ali complained that all kayaking photos of her are from the back.

Brian doesn't look completely unhappy

Alan avoiding mayflies

Assault of the mayflies

Lanzarote Above Water Adventures - 27/4/2009 - 3/5/2009

Blah blah blah coming soon

Eventually Ben figured out what the suitcase was all about and he wasn't happy.

Go karting with other Active adventurers

We were adopted by one of the Hotel Celeste's cats.

She wasn't pleased that we wouldn't let her inside.

Brian in one of his natural habitats, with a Spanish portion of brandy

Our walk just north of Costa Teguise had lots of interesting sites to explore. We wondered how often people came there for diving, with the clear water. My guess is not so often because of how exposed to the current, waves and surge the area was.

Dive 8: Temple Hall wreck - 2/5/2009

Our scheduled dive was a boat dive to explore some wrecks outside Puerto del Carmen. Because the numbers didn’t make sense to rent the boat, they changed to a shore dive. Instead we went to explore the Temple Hall wreck on the northern side of Arrecife, near the desalination plant. That boat didn’t survive a bad storm a few years ago, although if you look at it quickly while driving past, you may not notice that the back end is missing. The only thing that’s noticeable is how unusually close it is to the beach to not be parked at a dock.

Because the crazy French group had gone home, Simon went back to being retired and Laurence was our guide. After the usual gearing up faff, we swam out about 400m and then descended to about 6m. We swam along the sandy bottom and then worked our way along the sheltered side of the boat. As usual, Alan kicked up a lot of sand and Brian hovered about a metre higher than the rest of us, very wisely avoiding it.

As we reached the back of the surface half of the boat, there was a bit of a drop to the back end of the boat, which was completely underwater and slowly disintegrating. This dive was not going to be a proper wreck dive – we weren’t going in the boat anywhere – and I can’t say I minded. The underwater disintegrating parts looked quite fragile even though the surface parts looked in good condition.

We swam around the back of the boat and then along the top of it. My depth gauge had my maximum depth at 9m but Laurence’s was a bit closer to 10m. We saw more fish near the back end as they had more places to explore and hide. I touched a piece of the external boat hull as we swam over the last of the back end and felt grateful again to not be exploring boat innards. The metal was quite brittle and didn’t feel at all stable. Laurence looked into the dark inside of the front half to see if there was anything interesting, but not really. I guess all of the critters were having an afternoon nap.

We swam back along the front end of the boat and then in to the shore. On the swim back to the beach, I saw lots of funny logs that turned out to be sea cucumbers. I had a hard time keeping my back end down at less than 2m. Every so often, I would feel no resistance against a kick and that was my fin above the water surface.

Sadly, Brian and I missed a grumpy grouper hiding in the shadows near the bow of the boat. Both of us were disappointed in the dive, not because of the missed grouper but because it felt a bit boring. The wreck wasn’t a lot to see, especially compared to some of our other dives. Laurence had said the French group loved it because they could take lots of photos. Alan took a fair number of photos, as I suspect I would have, too, but that’s usually a sign of boredom on my part. Large collection of photos means I’m attempting to make my own fun.

Even more sadly, dive 8 for me was the end of diving for our trip. We were heading home the next evening. I am definitely looking forward to more diving, though I’m not sure yet when or where. Brian’s keen for UK diving, but he is on his own there. I found Lanzarote water a bit cold so, drysuit or not, I don’t see myself surviving cold, murky UK water.

Alan poses in front of the wreck at Temple Hall. Brian's photo composition looks as if the boat is about to drive into Alan's head.

Ahead of the dive, I wasn't warm enough and Brian was too warm.

The slowly disintegrating boat

Friendly urchin

Cuddly cuttlefish

Blurry flounder making its retreat

Dive 7: Mala / Charco del Palo (right) - 2/5/2009

This dive site has the added charm of having access at the resort town of Charco del Palo near Mala, which is a naturist resort. So, if the weather is nice, you have to mind your eyes to avoid the naked Germans wandering around. If the weather isn’t so nice, like the morning we arrived, you just have to not look so carefully. My eyes were the fortunate ones. Brian’s on the other hand looked toward the porches. Neither of us understands the appeal of naturism. I think 25C and 30kph winds is not nearly warm enough to be running around without any clothes. Brian thinks that it requires far too much additional sun cream with unpleasant consequences if forgotten.

The entry at Mala is challenging. Steps lead down to rocks where two ladders lead out of the water and a single handrail has been installed to aid with entry. Giant stride entry is the easiest way in and a rope provides a barrier hand hold while everyone gets in and organised. Both surge and surf are likely. As we walked down the stairs in full gear, I watched waves wash over the entry about once per minute. The challenge of the morning was going to getting gloved, masked and finned without getting pummelled. I let Alan and Brian go first.

Instructor Simon went both first and last. Geared up, he stood at the entry point making sure each of us got organised and into the water safely. Just before I heaved myself in, he reminded me to put lots of air in my BCD. I had none. Well timed. The giant stride entry was no problem and I clung to the rope barrier beside Brian, waiting for Simon to join us. Once everybody was in, we descended quickly to about 6 or 7m and swam away from the exit ladders. The surge kicked us side to side as we swam away, which kept my heart rate and breathing rate up for a while. I wondered if I would finish with less air than Brian, who tends to go through air quite quickly.

With some time to get used to it, I learned to slow down and hold my position in the surge/current and then use it to glide forward. We swam over the sandy bottom and many lava outflows. As we moved beyond the entry point and worked our way deeper, the surge pretty much disappeared. On this dive, there weren’t as many little fish to swim with as some of the other dives. I wondered if they preferred not to be kicked around by so much surge. The lava rocks were sea urchin resorts, which seemed to follow the same organisational scheme as the towns of Costa Teguise and Playa del Carmen. Obvious mental note followed to not step on or put a hand down on a rock without looking. We descended to about 20m gradually but kept a safe 2 or 3 metres from the bottom. Soon we saw the first of many stingrays . One laid so happily in the sand that I thought it was an angel shark, but the shark shaped footprint wasn’t so obvious. Until google showed us the difference, Brian thought they were manta rays. But no, they were stingrays, hover-swimming like martian spaceships of cartoon legend. We must have seen at least a dozen stingrays of various sizes. Alan got a few photos that I hoped would turn out. We worked our way back gradually toward the ladders swimming over more sea urchin resorts that seemed to be missing only the vend-a-loungers.

At a depth of about 6m, Simon led us into a small cave in one of the lava outflows that is good for seeing some of the more rare wildlife. We swam into the cave, Simon then me then Brian and finally Alan. As with the previous dive, Alan was still struggling with buoyancy and swimming level(ish) so he kicked up a hell of a (sand) houlie. Simon shined his light into the crevices and we saw a number of fish that I didn’t recognise. In the second crevice, a moray eel showed its face briefly and then mooned Alan as he tried to take a photo.

On the way out of the cave, we had the option of a swim through to the inside or a swim around. With the increase in surge again and my tank nearly empty, I didn’t feel confident in my buoyancy control enough for the 1m or so clearance at the start. I didn’t want to scrape along or kick/shove rocks on the way through, so I opted for around. Brian and Alan swam through.

It wasn’t long until we reached the exit ladders. As the usual least amount of air remaining, Brian got to go first. Alan let some air out of his BCD and was able to sink to the bottom easily. I got caught in the surge and pulled upward. Dumping the air out of my BCD didn’t help. Swimming down didn’t help. As Brian climbed upward, I threw myself at the ladder and clung to the bottom rung as the surge picked my back end up far too easily. I remember looking slightly enviously at Alan wishing I had stuck to 6kg instead of 5kg on my weight belt.

Once Brian was clear (enough), Simon sent me up the ladder. About halfway(?) up, I made the mistake of looking at the waves crashing against the rocks, which very easily tore the regulator from my mouth. Frothy saltwater waves don’t taste all that good. I reached the top of the ladder and Brian asked me if I was ok. I said no as I slithered onto the rock and made space for Alan. Brian scolded me, reminding me that ok and happy are not the same question. I apologised as I sat onto a nearby rock to wait for Alan and Simon to get out safely.

The long slog back to the car was uphill like all the rest. On the way back to the van, Simon pointed out another swim through that was possible in milder conditions. It had to be milder conditions because there was no exit route even though the swim through ended at the shore. Divers had to swim back out and around to exit. Another day, another dive. The conditions weren’t in any rush to improve for us.

The entry at Charco del Palo (Mala)

Swimming companions

Blurry half of a stingray in the sand

Blurry, sandy stingray

Dive 6: Puerto del Carmen – Top of the Altar - 1/5/2009

Our largest group dive of the week was another Puerto del Carmen dive. Most of the morning group from Brian’s deep dive was staying on for the afternoon dive. Brian was late coming back to the hotel for lunch and I had been wondering if they had any difficulties during their dive or just suffered from group faff. I was right on both accounts. Brian’s blue hole dive got changed because of group inexperience. One of the divers had problems with equalising and had to bail early. And the faff factor was enormous.

Not a lot changed between the morning and the afternoon. Our group consisted of Brian and me who had been diving all week and Alan, Richard and Leslie, all three with the advanced qualification but not an enormous amount of experience. Richard and Leslie were responsible for the lion’s share of extraneous faff beyond what is typical for diving. I waited until the last possible minute to get geared up and buddy checked with Brian. Then I asked Simon if I could go chuck myself in the water so I wasn’t standing around in lots of heavy gear. Brian and Alan went with me, though the rest of the group wasn’t far behind. A bunch of kids were jumping off the jetty in the same place where we wanted to enter, so it was an awkward and slippery walk past them. Brian went in the water first, followed by either Alan or me. Simon had caught up at that point so he got to wait on the jetty around all the screaming kids while Richard and Leslie got the rest of their gear on.

Once all of us were in the water, Leslie had trouble submerging, suggesting she needed another 2kg on her weight belt. Simon helped get her down to about 6 or 7m and then found a rock to use as a substitute extra weight. While we were waiting for them to get organised and underwater, Alan took some photos with his digital camera. It was a cheap digital camera with plastic housing that he found in Arrecife. I was jealous because my camera isn’t useful beyond 3m and its predecessor had a bad experience with Lanzarote. Alan and Brian each took a few photos. He had said it would work up to about 15m, which was the depth where the buttons would be under too much pressure to function properly.

Once everybody was underwater and reasonably settled, we began the dive by swimming out along the jetty. The more interesting creatures were found in the rocks rather than in the sand below. We saw lots of little fish whose names I forgot as quickly as I learned (underwater naturalist I am not). I learned very quickly to not stay too close to either Leslie or Alan. Probably because each was wearing a pretty massive weight belt (ca. 10kg), they moved through the water in a manner that looked more like kneeling than swimming. Lots of sand kicked up. Brian hovered away and up by at least two metres. Sensible.

The plan was to visit Charlie the grumpy grouper I saw two days previously, if he was in the neighbourhood, and see what else we could see. Simon said Charlie usually hangs out around 16-18m, which is where I saw him during my training dive. Sadly, we didn’t see Charlie, but we did see lots of little fish, a handful of starfish, sea urchins and two angel sharks. Simon pet the angel shark, which was passed out asleep in the sand. This time, he didn’t invite us to pet the shark. I wondered if the size of the group and possible chaos might disturb it, especially since the previous day’s feeding angel shark wasn’t too happy with us.

The reefs drop off significantly at the top of the altar. We descended to around 20m, which is the top of the drop-off. Swimming over the drop-off was a very slight heart in throat moment. I’m not fond of heights, but the sensation of essentially flying over the reef was the fondest of heights I have ever been. I am looking forward to doing deeper dives in the future.

I am not sure who hit the 100bar mark first. I have to guess Brian because of his claim, but maybe not. We headed back toward the jetty. I got a little too close to Leslie and she nearly knocked my regulator out of my mouth as she was adjusting her BCD for the ascent. I readjusted and moved away to give her more space. We slowly worked our way back up to about 9m and pile of rocks at the end of the jetty. At some point of swimming along during the swim back, we lost Leslie and Richard quite suddenly. In less than two minutes, probably less than a minute for Simon, gone. We waited while Simon swam back toward where we had been and then all of us looked up to see Leslie and Richard at the surface. Near the end of her tank, the weight belt that Leslie was wearing and the rock in her BCD pocket wasn’t enough to hold her underwater any longer. She and Richard swam back to the entry point on the surface. Alan, Brian, Simon and I swam back underwater. Simon’s warning to stay low seemed a bit pointless with the other two from our group bobbing along the surface, but it was good practice to play with buoyancy at the end of the dive.

Our return to the surface was greeted by the same screaming children who were there when we left. We missed the peace and quiet of underwater.

Simon, our fearless leader

Brian and me

Underwater Alan

These little black and blue fish were among my favourite swimming partners

Starfish

Underwater moose ears. Guess who?

Underwater Brian

Dive 5: Puerto del Carmen Old Harbour Wall - 30/4/2009

My first dive with the training wheels off was with Simon as guide and only Brian and me as clients. We headed back to Puerto del Carmen and the jetty entry to explore the old harbour wall. The idea was to swim along the wall, which should have all sorts of interesting marine life swimming or sitting about, and then swim back across the sand.

On the way out, we saw a 2 or 3 metre tubular colony of organisms that looked like a windsock waving underwater. Not sure what it was called but it had very little texture.

Peter's lecture to Brian about being a good buddy and mindful of me / my swimming pace in the water seemed a bit misdirected. I was a much faster swimmer and had to correct to Brian's pace.

On this dive, I learned a new hand signal from Simon. Hand vertical against forehead means shark. Just in front of us was an outline in the sand that looked like someone with a shark shaped foot had just stepped there. It was an angel shark hanging out and waiting for a meal to swim along. Simon gestured me over to it, beside him and showed me it was ok to pet it on one of its fins. It felt like very coarse sandpaper, even through my gloves. The shark eventually got fed up with us being there and distracting its food away. It swam away in a huff, biting at nonexistent things in its path. While it was no threat to any of us, I felt guilty for chasing its food away. We saw another shark in the sand soon after, but left it alone.

Brian and I both reached 100bar at about the same time, but I think we were well on our way back by that point. We continued along the sand for a while and then reached the pile of rocks near the jetty. The difference between the sand and the pile of rocks was huge in terms of the number and variety of fish we saw. Where we saw just the sharks and the occasional fish before, the rocks were teeming with life.

We followed the pile of rocks to about 6m when Simon told us to stick to the bottom. As we were approaching the jetty exit point, the possibility of boat traffic meant the bottom was the safest place to be. The minimum depth was about 3m and no propeller was that big. Simon looked around and up and signalled to ascend. I was too busy looking down and around that I missed it and saw just flippers when I turned back. I figured it out and joined them on the surface.

Simon preferred the jetty as an exit point and I could immediately see why. We had to climb up lots of steps but we were not covered in sand. Comparing end pressures, Brian was a little bit lower than me. I had hope that I would get used to breathing funny air with practice and not take over his title as air guzzler.

Dive 4: Playa Chica, Puerto del Carmen - 29/4/2009

In the last training dive, I fared much better with the 8kg weight belt. We swam in a different direction than the visit to Charlie, starting from the jetty again so I could practice a different type of entry. I had really just one set of skills left to practice, the tired diver tow, so until the end, it was really just like a normal dive.

We swam along the sand and reached the top of the reef as we neared 18m. As usual, the little fish wondered what we were. The catfish and the cuddlefish avoided us in their usual nonchalant way. Perhaps the morning’s cuddlefish warned his pals about me.

We followed the reef along and then headed back toward Playa Chica to finish the skills. I had to tow Peter some distance in the water. Him being considerably larger than me meant it would take some time. Unlike the pool sessions, I only had to do one type of tow.

With the end of training dive 4, I finished the PADI open water course and was officially a qualified diver. When we returned to the shop to put gear away and do the rest of the paperwork, Brian returned from his morning dive. Peter gave Brian a lecture about the importance of being a good diving buddy, which was probably about 50% seriousness and 50% entertainment on his part. They also had an odd bullshitty conversation about aikido, which was a bit beyond my attention span. Brian had the afternoon off, too, because they didn’t have enough people booked for the scheduled boat dive. They didn’t have anyone other than Brian so instead he and Simon did two dives in the morning.

Dive 3: Playa Chica, Puerto del Carmen - 29/4/2009

The plan for the day was to get the skills out of the way as soon as possible so that the rest of the dives would be more like pleasure dives. To make sure I could stay on the bottom for the skills, Peter had me use an 8kg weight belt. As far as skills on the list, I had to do a controlled emergency swimming ascent (CESA), some underwater and surface navigation, mask removal. To further reduce risk of built up nitrogen, the CESA was scheduled for early in the dive. We would submerge, do the mask removal and then the CESA.

I didn’t fare well with mask removal – water up the nose – and pushed that to later in the dive. The CESA was next. I had to swim up a rope with Peter’s hand under my jaw to make sure I was always breathing out. He said it was the first time he heard anyone humming, but whatever works. Next up was the surface navigation. I had to set my lubber line, swim with it as a guide for 20 kicks with a snorkel, swap snorkel for regulator, turn around and return 20 kicks along the return course. Sounds easy enough. As usual, I forgot to count less than half way into the exercise and Peter had to stop me with a tap on the shoulder. Everything else went fine and I arrived, regulator in mouth at the point where I started. I apologised for not warning him of my counting skills and we submerged to do the same exercise (sans snorkel/regulator swap) underwater. I was still slow to descend and I made the mistake of dumping all of my air when Peter motioned to me to dump some air. Descending slowly became descending like the lead weights around my waist and I landed with a thud on the bottom. A cuddlefish gave me a dirty look as it swam away.

The submerged navigation was just as entertaining as the surface navigation, except this time, Peter was prepared for me to forget to count. Entertainment aside, I did arrive back where I started.

Skills over, we headed deeper along the jetty to explore. At some point, I think I put a little too much air in my BCD for how deep I wasn’t, and I very quickly felt like someone tied a bundle of helium balloons around my waist and let me go. I was a big sack heading for the surface, trailing my legs and arms behind me. A quick dump of air after a panicky flail to find the button on the BCD and I was right again. Peter looked back but only after everything looked normal again.

We worked our way down to 18m and saw a big grumpy-looking grouper. He was dark blue and about a metre long. I found out afterwards that his name is Charlie. At the time, I struggled with buoyancy as I tried to stay out of his way. I had a hard time with the extra 2kg of weight. I felt like every movement was exaggerated, with the weight yanking me in whatever direction.

We headed back to the shelter of Playa Chica and I did the mask removal, slowly but well enough. It’s supposed to be simulating the mask being knocked off or similar, but oh well.

The trudge up hill was slow and hard work. Peter helped me carry my weight belt so I could move at a pace faster than a waddle. Peter asked me what was wrong, that I seemed "off". I explained the buoyancy comedy that he didn’t see and said I didn’t expect 2kg of weight to make so much difference.

Dive 2: Playa Chica, Puerto del Carmen - 28/4/2009

The debrief from dive 1 didn’t last very long. While the sun was out, it was reasonably warm, but that wasn’t during our surface interval. Training dive 2 had more skills than training dive 1, and a bit more depth, too. I swapped tanks, adjusted the position a bit down so I stopped whacking my head into the valve behind me, and Peter talked me through the list of skills that I needed to demonstrate that I would promptly forget. He went through the hand signals and motions for them so that I would understand when he reminded me underwater. He also borrowed a 1kg weight and put it in my pocket. With the extra weight, I could sit on the bottom when necessary and have some more practice using the BCD for buoyancy.

Skills included more mask flooding, hovers, cramp removal and some other similar things. Skills done, we wandered down to about 12m exploring more of the rock pile boundary of Playa Chica. In addition to the cuttlefish, I saw catfish, flounder (flounder swim funny – on their sides so they look a lot like a tiny version of a stingray), rock fish, seabreams, and more. My favourites for colouring were the black and blue ones. My favourites for their perpetual grumpy expressions were the cuttlefish and rockfish.

Training dive 2 ended much the same as training dive 1 with a long slog from the beach up to the van.

Dive 1: Playa Chica, Puerto del Carmen - 28/4/2009

The PADI book said that the first training dive should be just a dive. Peter had me do a couple of skills to balance with dive 2 a bit better. I was quite happy with that idea, figuring that I would rather have the last of the 4 training dives more like a dive than the first.

I needed some help remembering how the gear all pieced together, but most of it was pretty intuitive. Geared up, we walked to the beach of Playa Chica, which is, as the name suggests, a small beach protected by large piles of rocks on either side. Brian and I had the best snorkelling there during our last Lanzarote trip, but sadly, that was after my last camera had died.

We waddled into the water and then put fins on. Submerging the first time was a little awkward, just like in the pool, but it didn’t take too long to get used to everything. Peter had me hold his hand for the first few minutes of being underwater, until both of us were sure I was doing ok. He had me do the first few skills and realised that while my buoyancy was perfect for diving, it wasn’t great for staying parked at the bottom to do the skills. He had to hold me down by the shoulder. Skills done, we swam around the edge of the big pile of barrier rocks. I saw cuddlefish, seabreams and lots of fish whose names I forgot very quickly after examining the wall chart back at the dive shop . The maximum depth for the dive was 8m. We returned to the surface via Playa Chica as well, which meant ankles down were covered in sand.

The walk back to the van was much more of a slog than the walk to the water. It was this point where I realised that every dive was going to be like this. Unless I take up altitude diving, and even then, locally I don’t think even altitude diving will make a difference. I will always have an uphill walk on the way back from a dive. Water flows down hill. Tired diver trudges uphill with wet, heavy gear.

Arran Sea Kayak Day 1 - South Corrie Harbour to Lochranza - 11/4/2009

My birthday gift to Brian was a day long sea kayak trip in Arran, a coastal journey from Corrie harbour on the east coast to Lochranza, organised by the Arran Adventure Company. It seemed a fitting gift for Brian's 17th annual 28th birthday. More details soon.

Our evening view for the three nights we stayed on Arran.

How does this thing work?

Instructor Calum reviewed the basics ahead of our exit from Corrie's harbour.

The northern edge of Sannox village is the point where the island's road disappears into the hills, with most of the journey still ahead of us.

Brian spent the first few minutes of lunchtime wringing out the consequences of trying to stand up before his legs were ready for him to do so.

One of my favourite photos from the journey. Brian approaches the Fallen Rocks on Arran's east coast.

Rounding the north coast of Arran, the chop picked up a bit as the wind starting kicking us around a little more, hints of what was to follow. This was the last photo I took before the landing at Lochranza.

The water doesn't give a particularly accurate perspective on the conditions, but the dark clouds do. It was hard work paddling into the wind to finish the journey. The entrance to Lochranza was majestic but I didn't want to risk getting blown off course to take any photos.

The landing beside Lochranza Castle was most welcome after the last mile or more into the wind.

Arran Sea Kayak Day 2 - Brodick Bay to Corrie and the Holy Isle - 12/4/2009

Our second day of sea kayaking was split between two trips. In the morning, we paddled from Brodick Bay to Corrie, effectively completing the northeast coast of Arran. In the afternoon, we paddled out to within 1/4 mile of the Holy Isle before the timing said we needed to turn back. More soon.

Our second day started with a paddle from Brodick Bay to Corrie.

On the left side, in roughly the middle of the choppy water, you can see a seal looking very strangely at me, probably wondering how I could catch any fish with the 15ft plastic fin attached to my bum.

Broken Brian. He set the footpegs a little too tightly on day 2 and was feeling it by the end of the first trip.

Lunchtime

The paddle to the Holy Isle was our last sea kayak adventure of the weekend.

If you squint and imagine two black specks roughly centre in the photo above the hill, those are the eagles that nest behind the Arran Distillery in Lochranza.

Blair Drummond Safari Park - 4/4/2009

Skeptical of the weather to do what it was told, we expected the rain and wind of the week to continue into the weekend. Brian had asked a number of times if I wanted to go to Blair Drummond Safari Park. I don't like zoos -- too much like animal jail -- so he thought perhaps the safari park would feel like people jail (cars) rolling through the animals' territory. It was a bit of both. Most animals seemed pretty chilled out in their homes away from home, but perhaps could have used a bit more roaming space.

The lions were particularly energetic that afternoon.

The penguins were quite pleased to be preening in the rain.

Monkey see. Monkey do.

Brian managed to get the ostrich(y thing -- we didn't read the sign) to eat from his hand. It nipped at anyone who reached through its fence but ate the animal food from his hand if he waited for it to stick its head through the fence to eat.

Alpacas are sloppy eaters, though not nearly as sloppy as the horses that ran to us as soon as they thought there would be food in it for them.

The birds of prey were impressive. This sea eagle was a bit like Brian, didn't like the rain, and refused to do much more than fly from one of its people to the other.

Giraffes always look unconvinced to me.

The lionesses were a bit more energetic than the lions. Note the two toned lump of brown beneath the playground. I guess the walk across to it was too energetic for him.

The energetic lions were too fast for my video to capture. (Hint: to hear the boys grumping at each other, turn up volume to full.)

River Teith Open Canoe Coaching Practice - 14/3/2009

Trip details coming soon...

Charlie's friend Colin needed some practice coaching ahead of his level 3 coaching assessment so between Charlie and me, we rounded up some guinea pigs.

Stuart and Scott were the first to practice ferry gliding.

Brian and Emily got a few good practices at ferry gliding.

Lunchtime looked almost like summer.

Reverse ferry glides were an interesting challenge.

Scott's budget roof rack was relatively quick to assemble.

Success!

Ratho Aerial Assault and Climbing Taster - 15/3/2009

It was all Brian’s fault. Well, technically Brian’s mum and sister’s fault, but by virtue of being the youngest and most culpable member of his immediate family, all blame reverts to him. Brian’s birthday or Christmas gift was a climbing taster session combined with aerial assault at Ratho climbing centre. Unfortunately the gift was for both of us. I was looking forward to the climbing, not so keen on the aerial assault.

The end result was pretty much as expected. Loved the climbing, hated the aerial assault. Scot, Em, Jon, Fiona and Lisa joined us for the aerial assault. Unfortunately, Fiona and Lisa were a bit late, so they had to go with the next group instead of ours. Scott didn’t tell Em what they were doing until they arrived. Not sure I would be pleased with Brian for doing that to me.

Ratho climbing centre is on the outskirts of Edinburgh. It was built into an old rock quarry, giving both height and structure to the centre, though all of the climbing walls are synthetic. The aerial assault course is laid into the roof so the start feels like throwing oneself off a 5 storey building.

Bearer of all blame Brian went first, followed by Scott, Jon, me and finally Em. My efforts to escape failed.

The zip across wasn’t bad. I wasn’t too happy when I arrived but I was still ok enough. Em arrived soon after me and was probably about the same state. Scott and Jon both seemed fine. I could tell looking at Brian in the distance that he was some combination of unhappy and enjoying the thrill of scaring himself. His hands clung to obstacles with purpose, even though the harnesses gave plenty of opportunity for laziness.

The first few obstacles were ok. I did fine as long as I had something underfoot. When I came to the one that required awkward scrambling across a series of weird vertical logs, I froze. The harness’ ability to support me didn’t matter. Mind over matter. My mind said it wasn’t going. Eventually, one of the minders on the course came over to first see if she could talk me across the obstacle and then she offered to drag me across it. I ended up doing the rest of the course essentially sitting in the harness and dragging myself across each obstacle. The course minder never strayed far and when necessary, she gave me a few extra yanks along. I was grateful when it was all over.

Climbing was much more interesting. Our instructor had no intention of instructing. His objective was to throw us at as many different things as possible to give us a sample of what climbing is like. Once harnessed and shoed, he took us to one of the positive pitch walls. Since it was Sunday, It was us versus the little people on the easy walls. The positive pitch wall was pretty easy and there were lots of different holds. I made it about 2/3 of the way to the top and the height issue kicked in. Brian’s turn. He seemed to do the same. I wasn’t sure if he got stuck with the holds or the height issue kicked in, but I assumed the latter. His hands were really tired. He had forcibly climbed every obstacle in the aerial assault with the Grip of Death... and I don’t think he ever fell from an obstacle.

I got a bit higher on attempt 2 and then Brian slowly but surely worked his way to the top. In the meantime, a little person caught up with him and eventually passed him, which may have taken a bit away from the glorious victory photo of the top. The next wall was completely vertical but still plenty of handholds. The difference between it and the previous wall was the amount of effort required to climb. The holds were supporting more body weight so each step or reach had to be with purpose. The vertical wall was also a lot shorter than the positive pitch wall, which made me happy. And like that wall, it was again us versus the little people.

I went first. The climb felt much more like a puzzle with each move needing to be on its own but having options for subsequent moves. I got stuck twice but each time was able to reposition to make a follow-up move. Within a few minutes of starting, I was at the top and reasonably tired from the effort it took to get there.

Brian attempted the vertical wall but got only a few moves in before having to bail. His arms were completely wasted from the aerial assault.

Our last stop was the bouldering area. The instructor guy gave us a quick tutorial of how to move vertically and horizontally on the boulders and also how to fall off them safely and sorta gracefully. I got a few moves up and fell. Brian got maybe a move up and then fell. His arms were too dysfunctional. I tried again, same thing. Then the guy told me to go horizontally. I got about a metre along the boulder but then reached a puzzle of where to put what feet in what order to keep going. Splat. The guy suggested an approach and I tried again. Splat. And so ended our Ratho climbing taster. I definitely want to go back for more climbing.

As ultimate bearer of all responsibility/blame for the day, Brian got to go first.

I wasn't convinced.

Em launches into the aerial assault with to join the rest of us.

Everybody else said I would get used to it, but I never really did appreciate being up that high. Ratho's aerial assault wasn't nearly as interesting as Go Ape.

The guys running the aerial assault had some fun with the camera while we were out.

Fiona and Lisa tackle the aerial assault course.

Fiona didn't seem to mind the heights so much. She waved to Brian.

I liked climbing a lot better than the aerial assault.

Brian made it to the top of the positive pitch wall.

I made it to the top of this vertical wall. It was a bit shorter than the other one but a much more demanding climb.

Bouldering was good fun, though my arms could have done without the aerial assault.

Fraser spent the afternoon teaching Amy and Bram to lead climb.

Scuba Part 1 - 7/3/2009 - 8/3/2009

What is the least energetic way to make yourself really really tired? Scuba seems a likely candidate. As part of the protracted adventure swap that forms part of my relationship with Brian, I took the first half of the PADI Open Water Diver course in Edinburgh. The second half (i.e., the actual open water part) won’t happen until we are in a much warmer country.

Saturday morning had me awake and at Haymarket for a 9am start. There were 12 of us in total. We would be split into separate groups for the afternoon pool sessions, but for the morning, we were all in it together. Simon and Rachel were our fearless instructors for the coursework portion of the day.

The PADI book is split into 5 chapters, covering various topics such as buoyancy, scuba equipment, health and safety issues, hand signals that I've forgotten already and PADI marketing. I had to watch a video, too, which I only just managed to finish on time for the class to start.

Chapters 1-3 and pool dives 1-3 were on tap for Saturday, leaving less material and less diving on Sunday.

Our class was split into several groups for the pool sessions. My group was comprised of all the people running away from the UK to do their open water dives. In total, there were four of us: a father-son pair, a woman doing a refresher after not diving for over 10 years and me. Our instructors were Jan and Simon.

I don't remember how the three dives were split up, but I do remember covering a lot of simple but useful skills as well as getting some practice pottering around the pool underwater. My buddy and I did reasonably well with buoyancy control. Scuba is not very energetic and as predicted, I got cold in the pool. I don't think I'm cut out for UK diving, but that didn't stop people from trying to convince me otherwise between dives.

The last skill that we did involved mask and snorkel and brought back memories of my father's ill-fated attempt to introduce my brother and me to scuba. I was 9 or 10 at the time. The course was taught by military guys. It didn't go well. I had to swim underwater for some distance, clear my snorkel and keep swimming. On the third try, I got it after Jan explained how to not breathe. I finally slithered out of the pool, exhausted. I didn't get home until well after 7pm and I slept through most of whatever Brian wanted to watch on TV that night.

Day 2 had some of the more technical course material, mostly involving the use of the recreational diving table. We spent the morning with that and took our all important final examination. I missed a few questions on that, mostly involving hand signals that I still don't remember all that well. I remember the important ones like ascend, descend, I'm ok, I'm not ok. The rest are going to require more practice.

Pool dives on day 2 were more complicated. We started with gear assembly/disassembly x 5 and then proceeded to the in-water skills. The skills in the pool dives were more complex than the previous day, but there were fewer to cover in each dive. We got some official time to play with buoyancy control, which was harder than it was the previous day. My pixie hover looked more like a dead insect hover by the end. Laughing while trying to hover didn't help with buoyancy control.

We finished much earlier on day 2 and I was not nearly as shattered as after day 1. We slithered out of the pool sometime around 5pm and did the final gear disassembly. My wetsuit was a bit warmer than just thermals from the day before, but I was still a little bit cold. I got a lot cold once out of the water and was happy to get into dry clothes.

Once dry, I caught up with Brian outside and said my thank yous to the instructors and dive masters who looked after me in the pool. Not nearly as exhausted as after day 1, I still slept well that night.

Avoiding the Cold Outside - February 2009

We spent much of February travelling in Scotland visiting people, catching up post-Christmas and avoiding spending too much time in the nasty cold weather outside. Edinburgh saw lots of snow -- lots for it anyway -- and I got to get settled into my new job. To avoid descending into utter snark, I will not blog about my daily commuting adventures, but I am considering the entertainment value of Twitter.