whatleydude

One key thing that was an amazing constant throughout the Lucozade Challenges was that no matter what far flung corner of the world we found ourselves in, we always had an awesome, local guide to train us and look after us.

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.

This is probably my second favourite video from the now legendary epic summer of travel.

Dries… is a legend.

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

I’ve been in Helsinki for the past 24hrs so excuse me while I dig around in my video archive for something that I haven’t published here before…

What I’m about to share with you isn’t specifically ‘new content’ exactly, however it is something actually quite special and I hope you enjoy it.

Meet Stewart Reed.

Stewart, believe it or not, is a genuine cowboy who lives and on a ranch out in the small town of Shell, Wyoming.

One night in July, while we were camping up in the mountains (and after we’d watched the Sun go down), we stayed up late drinking whisky, sharing jokes, telling tales and, eventually – after some cajoling from the group, Stewart fetched his guitar out from the pickup and started to play…

There, up in the mountains, in the long dark silence… a real, live cowboy…  singing.

It was magical.

This one, Wagon Wheel, is by far and away my favourite.
Give it 30 seconds or so before he gets going, after that – just enjoy…

How do you feel about Marmite?

Me, I love it. In fact I could eat it with a SPOON.
Obviously, some people hate it. I mean REALLY hate it.

But what if, just imagine, you’d gone through your whole life without ever trying it. Ever.

Well, one morning, out in the middle of Damaraland, that’s exactly what we discovered Manzoor had done.

Something which, of course, we had to rectify…

It wouldn’t be a NaVloPoMo post without tipping you off about someone else’s efforts…
So why not go give one of Benny Crime’s videos a whirl.

You’ll never feel the same again…

“Houston. We have a problem.”

It would seem that the 30-day video marathon that is NaVloPoMo has arrived slap, bang in the middle of the first decent writing stride I’ve had in donkeys.

This is largely in part thanks to the wealth of written content I have hidden away in my new best friend and travelling partner, my moleskine.

Alas, as video cannot be held inside its tender pages, the ‘tales from my moleskine‘ series may have to take a back seat for the time being.

We’ll pick it back up again in December. Promise.

If you’ve missed it all so far and fancy a dive, by all means, just click on the word moleskine and you’ll be magically transported. However, if instead you’d rather stick around and see what ocular treats I have lined up for you today, then please, make yourself comfy… We’re off to Africa.

The date is July 8th, we – the first batch of Lucozade Winners and I – had left Damaraland that morning and boarded our own private Cessna to fly up to a place called Haartmann Valley. From there on in, it’ll be a three hour drive to our next camp. Eesh.

It’s pretty remote, but we’re told it’s paradise.

This short video, put together soon after we arrived, hopefully gives you some kind of insight at just how remote ‘remote’ is when you’re in Africa.

Hat tip to @reyes who duly pointed out the base for this month’s shenanigans.

Moleskine entry: July 22nd, 2009

5am start.

Not because we have to be up anytime in particular…
…it’s just so beautiful up here at Sunrise.

Breakfast can’t go quick enough.

Today I am so eager to get back in the saddle again. I have to tell you, the first time I ever encountered a horse I had the most horrific allergic reaction, I was nearly sick. My eyes blew up, my breathing suffered, I was itching and scratching all over… It was horrible.

So to say I was apprehensive about this particular challenge might be somewhat of an understatement. But today? Up here at the Snowshoe Lodge, some 9000ft up in the Big Hornhorn mountains, I could not be more excited about seeing my horse again.

Marlena, the equine in question, is and I quote: “A real bitch”.

She bites, she doesn’t do as she’s told and if you don’t show her who’s boss, she’ll throw you around like there’s no tomorrow. Heh. We’re having fun, put it that way.

I digress.

Today we’re herding cattle properly. 220 of them. Younglings.
They’re fast and they don’t like horses much.

Our guide, Stewart yells: “Let’s move out!”

And I smile…

Additional notes, thoughts and sketches: July 23rd – 24th

Notes – July 23rd

- I saw a Moose today!
- Stone horses, swimming in water
- Shell Lake. 10,000ft up in the mountains and simply breathtaking
- Rocks, like old people

Notes – July 24th

- White Creek Canyon
- Black Mountains
- Rattlesnakes
- Trapper Canyon
- Devil’s Leap

We’re heading home tomorrow… it’s been a good trip.

Rejoining the ‘Notes from my Moleskine‘ series, we round up the final three pages from the first Lucozade Challenge: Sandboarding in Nambia.

—– Shofat, Manzoor, Sam, Me, Foyce and Suhel —–

Moleskine entry: July 12th, 2009

I’m home, at last…

We were all supposed to be back Saturday (today is Sunday), but early morning fog meant we couldn’t land in Walvis Bay and so we missed our connection. 24hrs in Windhoek, the Namibian capital, ensued. Forget the delay, the most hilarious thing I saw in those 24hrs was our pilot, Elsa, texting the control tower telling them she couldn’t see them

I digress, the important part is:

I am home.

______________________

Learnings & Memories

: Four kids from Brum can be all the company you’ll ever need for an extreme sports holiday to Africa.

: The stars. They still amaze me.

: A midnight meteor shower over the plains of Damaraland – breathtaking.

: Shofat walking (and subsequently falling) into the swimming pool in Serra Cafeme.

: Dries. Sandboarding. Brilliant.

: Must buy a circular polariser for the camera.

: Satphones can be incredibly useful and yet incredibly infuriating at the same time.

: Lions. Outside the tent.

: Quad-biking at dusk.

: Taking so many photos – a joy.

: Power! She needs more power Cap’n!

______________________

The winners for stage two have been drawn and the competition for stage three opens real soon. Between now and then however, I’ll be Cattle Ranching through Wyoming. I’ve never ridden a horse before, let’s see how that works out…

Before I close the book on stage one mind, I need to make sure I write something about Eric & Raymond.

These were the two guys that held our hands and showed us the way the whole time we were there in Namibia. Without them it would’ve a been very, very boring trip and probably quite rubbish too.

Gents, I tip my hat. Thank you, both of you. You made it all worthwhile.

Moleskine entry: July 9th, 2009

I’ve never flown this far South before. Cape Town is 10hrs straight down. Damaraland, Namibia 2hrs back up again.

The stars are very different here.

Last night we slept out under the skies, in the middle of a half-million hectare concession, where people, wildlife and animals all co-exist together. Rhino, Springbok, Zebra, Giraffe, Leopard, Cheetah, Elephant and Ostrich. We’re told there’s no real danger, but we’re quiet all the same.

On the way out, Eric – our guide – remarks that the stripes of a Zebra are as unique as that of a human fingerprint.

“Zebras have human fingerprints?”…asks a not-really-listening Suhel.
“Yes Suhel, Zebras have human fingerprints.”

We laugh, uncontrollably.

Lions walked past through our camp, right past them. There are paw prints outside my door. I heard them late, out there in the dark, purring their deep, low grumble. Not quite a growl, not quite a roar but still… that sound.

A glimpse through the window revealed nothing. I could see the light from a distant toilet-tent knocking gently in the trees, but that is all. The moonlight, so bright out here in the middle of nowhere, shines down clearly, basking all in pale illumination.  But I see nothing.

Still, I hear them mumble.