Two years ago I jumped off Victoria Falls Bridge in Zimbabwe (you can probably just about make out the ropes hanging down from the centre of the image above).

It was, without doubt, the most thrilling thing I have ever done in my entire life.

At the time, for some (typically me) reason, I shot the whole thing on my phone. That too, was awesome.

Earlier this week, I was sorting through one of my old hard drives and I found a bunch of files from my old HD video camera. One of which, was a full 2min video of the exact same jump, but shot from the bridge. I had forgotten that at the time, when I went up to do the jump, I’d handed my camcorder to the tour guide to look after for me.

The legend actually recorded the whole thing.

I didn’t even know I had it. Amazing.

^ Turn it up to HD

Just speechless really. I get such a rush just from watching it.

Best. Discovery. Ever.

Moleskine entry: September 17th, 2009

It’s about 6pm here on the Caribbean island of St Maarten. The Lucozade Challenges are at an end and my epic summer of travel is coming to an end.

At the time of writing, we’re all sat on the tarmac on flight LEAT509 waiting to depart to Antigua. Our plane is old school. It has propellers and as they start up outside my window, I’m reminded of my Mum’s old washing machine. I smile.

Yesterday was amazing. Three days of intense training on the 12metre F1 Americas Cup winning yacht, the Stars & Stripes, all leading up to today: THE RACE.

The winners Jon, Clare, Trevor and Al (joined by me and Sam) along with Captain Morgan, Shaun and Rob. Nine of us against ‘True North IV’, manned by some real experienced yachtsmen. We’re in it to win it and we’re not taking prisoners.

Our track looks like this:

Point A (near the top) is the start line and Point B (at the bottom) is the marker which we must sail around to come back again. Before the competition starts, the judge (on a separate boat – not pictured) raises a green flag signalling the start of a six minute countdown. It’s at this point the yachts start racing back and forth in front of the start line, jockeying for the best position and getting up enough speed for when those six minutes are up. 360 seconds later the judge raises a white flag and then the race really gets going.

It’s worth noting that in practice we had our starts nailed; passing the buoys at 6:01 over and over. On race day we did it againy taking the opposition by complete surprise; suddenly they were on the back foot and they knew it. We weren’t messing around.

For three of the seven legs we remained in the lead. Our hearts pounding. Ears out for commands from the Skipper, one eye on the next marker and the other on the competition closing in behind.

Somewhere into the fourth leg (it may have been as early as the third), Rob noticed something; the True North IV was gaining.

Now apparently, before the race today, several agreements were made about how it would be run. The main part of which we’ll come back to later butt the bit that matters most right now is that Rob and the Captain of the True North IV had a gentlemen’s agreement that they wouldn’t use a full skiff.

Well surprise surprise, when we looked up to see the True North IV suddenly gaining speed, there she was with a full skiff -

12 metre with just the main sail –

12 metre with skiff unfurled – see the difference?

Rob smiled, knowingly.

What they were doing wasn’t strictly against the rules (the judge had no idea about said agreement and therefore wasn’t about to disqualify anyone for using their yacht correctly), but you might have considered it to be a little unsporting. A fact reinforced by the sight of the opposing team placing their hands over their ears as they passed us to yells of “CHEATS! CHEATERS!”

Of course, the only real response was to unfurl our sail to its full extent and play them at their own game. So we did.

Whatever the result, it was nice to know that we pissed them off so much that they felt they had to throw everything that at winning. And win they did. But my God did we make it hard for them and my God was it a close finish…

On the final leg, with the Stars & Stripes still trailing, the True North IV made her final turns into shore to take the wind coming off the land. Like I said, we were trailing so we took a gamble. Being in second place – aka ‘last’ -  means you really do have nothing to lose but everything to gain. In search of stronger winds, we turned the yacht out to sea.

It so very nearly paid off. By the time we crossed the finish line the finish line there were literally SECONDS in it. They beat us by HALF A BOAT length. I can’t tell you how exhilarating it felt to come that close to beating this professional and experienced team. Just magnificent.

Their boat was technically faster, apparently on one leg, their buoy was closer than it should’ve been, they had to use a full gib to catch us and they had probably the most experience 12 metre yacht captain in the world….

AND YET we still came that close to beating them. It feels now as it felt then, totally invigorating.

Later at the bar that evening, Rob tells us that today’s race was kind of a big deal for him. The night before he had called a meeting between our crew, the opposing crew and the race judge. They all agreed that the race today would be ‘for real’.
You see they race these boats day in and day out and could’ve quite easily made some decisions (that wouldn’t have been obvious to us), that meant they would’ve handed us the race. Rob, having trained us all week and seen how we respected the skill and the effort that went into it, insisted that this would be the case.

He told the rest of the staff that the race was to be exactly that.
No fudging it for anyone.

“Throw everything you’ve got at us.” he told them “Try and thrash us. If you do, it’ll be their fault. If you don’t, well then.. they’re awesome. Either way, these guys will not appreciate being handed the race and will know if you do…”

Wow. What a guy. I for one am very glad he called it like that because, come the finish line, yes we came second – a very close second in fact. But we earned it.

—- End of Moleskine entry.

It’s with a tinge of sadness that I reach the end of the Caribbean notes like this. Rob, our 12 metre expert and pro, tragically passed away only two short months after we left. I wrote about it at the time and, if you’ve made it this far, it would mean a lot to me if you read ‘For Rob’ as well.

Thanks for reading. The Lucozade journals are at an end now, however the Moleskine itself is not. I’m going to keep writing up my entries as I go as, well, that’s what it’s there for.

Until next time… For Rob.

Molekskine entry: September 16th, 2009

I’ve not written here for a while. Most places we’ve been to this past summer have involved a lot of travelling. From one bed to the next, driving through Africa, riding across Wyoming or simply scaling mountains deep within the Alps. Believe it or not, these kinds of activities gave me a lot of free time to write and keep my journal.

However, for this trip – the fifth and final Lucozade Challenge of 2009 – we’ve been staying on ONE resort the WHOLE time. If I’m not up and at the Mac updating the Lucozade blog, then I’m out completing challenges with the winners. Every second I have here on my own, I’m uploading photos, editing videos etc etc… constantly online. No downtime with no connection, which means no journals in my moleskine

And so it is, we go home tomorrow and I’ve hardly written a thing.

Time flies huh?

On thing I must put down – Today. Has. Been. Epic.

Molekskine entry: August 31st, 2009

I’ve not had time to do any writing as yet. We’re here, on the border of the French, Swiss and Italian Alps, looking up at Mont Blanc after a really, really intense couple of days. Yesterday, after flying in the 1hr 15mins from London, we were picked up from Geneva and drove through to Italy. I had no idea it was so close.

Within an hour of arriving we were already kitted out and on our way for a training session in the hills.

Yes. That’s me.

We walked for hours and climbed for a while too. Aside from a couple of smashed phones (my own N86 and an iPhone belonging to one of the winners), it was a good day. Intense, but good.

But that was just day one. Today, August 31st, has been one of the scariest days of my life. Being up there, in the mountains, some 3300m above sea level, with nothing but a single rope, a guide and your friends to keep you alive. It’s pretty hairy.

There was a bit, just after that I decided to cut. We stood there and just cried. Cried and cried and cried. The emotional intensity of it all. Completely overwhelming.

Molekskine entry: August 27th, 2009

My Lucozade QOTD

“As your bungee footage went down so well with the facebook fans, can you take your mobile with you when you descend into the large crevasse? It’s a pretty unique experience and it should make some good footage…”

Hilarious.

————————————————————————————————–

What bungee footage? This bungee footage:

Hand held and shot entirely with my beloved N86, the video came out perfectly.

It’s funny, back when I did the jump, I didn’t make any kind of note in my diary at all.

I’m not sure why or why not. I just didn’t. In fact, I think this is the first time I’ve published it here. Apologies if you’ve seen it already but, well…  I love it.

Moleskine entry: August 7th, 2009

Thank the lord for the wonder that is the iTrip. The journey from Botswana to Zimbabwe just got a million times better thanks to the addition of some Kings of Leon.

Stan, our driver, is cool.

My passport is filling up, the amount of times we’ve crossed the border it just crazy.

SA, Zambia, Botswana, Namibia (strangely quite comforting to be back there), and back to Botswana again.

Now we’re en route to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe.

Bring. It. On.

Plane: England -> South Africa
Plane: South Africa -> Zambia
Bus: Zambia -> Chobe River
Boat: Chobe River -> Botswana (for 45mins)
4×4: Botswana -> Chobe River
Boat: Chobe River -> Namibia

When we were told this challenge was to ride the Zambezi, all of the information we had been given (before our itineraries arrived), implied that we were to be staying in Zambia.

As it turned out, we were actually to spend the majority of our time in Zimbabwe. Not before however, we returned to Namibia for one night of relaxation at the Ichingo Chobe River Lodge, situated right on the banks of the Chobe River itself.

Tonight’s treat? Speedboat Safari.
I’ll hopefully get some good photos… I can’t believe how much I’m really enjoying this camera.

It’s been kind of invigorating. Refreshing.

Healthy.

I’ve been up in the Big Horns trekking, riding and herding as part of challenge two of the Lucozade Energy Challenges, although (I’m certain now), this much you know. What you probably don’t know however is that the powers that be have gone ahead and equipped me with some rather spiffy kit.

Including, amongst others, a sat-phone.

This thing worked FINE in Namibia. In fact, the photo above was taken and uploaded on the spot in the middle of the Namibian desert, this place in fact.

However, for some unknown reason, in the good ol’ US of A, it failed. Nothing. Nada. My glorious sock-rockin’ sat-phone, was… useless.

Which meant in turn, I was non-contactable for four days.
Say it again. Four days.
Say it one more time, and this time say it with me – out loud: Four. Days.

‘Liberating’ doesn’t quite do it justice.

At one point, we were sat by a lake some 10,000ft up, the air was thin, the horses were thirsty and the winners were discussing going for a swim. The sky was clear, the water freezing and the surrounding landscape, breathtaking.

Just pausing – for a moment – to take in what I was experiencing.

Four days with no signal. Four days in the mountains. Riding horseback every day, we rode down from 8500ft on the last day, Friday, and it took five hours.

I couldn’t tell you the total of how far we travelled or for how long. All I know is every day we were saddled up by 10am and we only got out again for lunch and then again at the end of the day for dinner and rest. I never thought I’d enjoy it so much.

Incredible really, incredible.

I wrote every day, trying to keep a personal journal as well as an official, Lucozade one is no easy task. But when there’s nothing to distract you except maybe the odd passing moose, you’d be amazed how one can focus the mind.

Perspective is a wonderful thing… and the view from here, is amazing. I know what things are important to me now. Not that I didn’t know before I guess.

But as I said, being up here sure does focus the mind.

For the last challenge, yacht-racing in the Caribbean, we had this guy, Rob Brinkworth.

An Englishman through and through, Rob took great pride in telling us about the Stars and Stripes yacht we were to race, he’d been looking after the boats themselves for years. In the short time we spent on St Maarten, Rob educated us all in the ways of the 12-metre challenge, he made us feel confident enough to handle this multi-million dollar winner of a vessel and at the same time made sure that we respected his word and his skill as a fine seafaring yachtsman.

A fantastic teacher, I remember Rob expressing to us at the end of the week how much he had really enjoyed coaching us all in the science behind sailing and reminisced about his days as an instructor educating school teachers on how to sail, preparing them for a Summer of PGL (a UK institution set up for children to take part in activity courses, such as sailing). He had rediscovered his love of sharing knowledge and, as we left St Maarten at the end of the week, I sensed that maybe there might be change in his future.

Sadly, Rob died last week.

Struck down by an aggressive illness, his life was cut short before he could put any such plans into action.

I heard the news late yesterday afternoon. Al, one of the winners from the challenge, had stayed in touch with Rob after we left. After he told me I immediately started trawling through my files… The following video is put together from all the footage I took while under his tutelage.

Rob, this is for you mate:

While waiting for the video to export, I checked through my notes to clarify a few dates and I found this entry, the last one I made before we left the Caribbean -

Moleskine entry: September 16th, 2009

Race Day

“Later at the bar that evening, Rob tells us that today’s race was kind of a big deal for him. The night before he had called a meeting between our crew, the opposing crew and the race judge. They all agreed that the race today would be ‘for real’.
You see they race these boats day in and day out and could’ve quite easily made some decisions (that wouldn’t have been obvious to us), that meant they would’ve handed us the race. Rob, having trained us all week and seen how we respected the skill and the effort that went into it, insisted that this would be the case.

He told the rest of the staff that the race was to be exactly that.
No fudging it for anyone.

“Throw everything you’ve got at us.” he told them “Try and thrash us. If you do, it’ll be their fault. If you don’t, well then.. they’re awesome. Either way, these guys will not appreciate being handed the race and will know if you do…”

Wow. What a guy. I for one am very glad he called it like that because, come the finish line, yes we came second – a very close second in fact. But boy did we earn it.”

Good luck Rob, wherever you are.
Your friends, old and new, remember you well.

Dries… is a legend.

Thanks man, you rock.. I’m smiling.
Hope you are too.