girl in a gale

Arc of a Sport Yak

2013-04-11T01:29:00.002+01:00

In Gran Canaria I planned to sail 900 miles down to west Africa. Instead of spending out on a life raft, a single use, high cost item, I purchased an unsinkable dinghy. Sport Yak is made by the Bic biro company and in that same orange yellow. I have used Sport Yaks since I was aged 7 when my parents had one and would allow me to row around for hours. Decades later I bought a 2nd hand one in Maldon to use with my first sailing yacht, Juggler, in the 90's and, foolishly because it was a good one, sold it with that boat.
My next boat, Storm Petrel came with a real sailor's dinghy, an Avon Redcrest, but it took so long to unroll and inflate I had little confidence in it as a life saver in an emergency.
I ordered the Sport Yak from a chandler in Las Palmas and it was delivered from Barcelona, over a thousand miles away. A Swedish single-hander, Robert, ordered one at the same time and when they eventually arrived at the shop in the city we carried one each through the streets to our boats. As we decided whose was whose Robert noticed a fault in the hull of one and dismissed it. I had such faith in Sport Yak's that I accepted without question this small manufacturing artifact - which looked as if a hot object had indented the hull - but it turned out as a sign of a badly manufactured product.

Making way up the River Gambia. 2004

The Sport Yak fitted exactly on the fore deck, upside down so it would not fill with water. This was a careful choice because ocean sailing makes a towed dinghy extremely problematic. A couple of half hitches held it securely in place and enabled a very fast release. The Sport Yak weighs just 20kg so could be thrown into the water in a hurry. The unsinkable double skin design means it will float just as well upside down and even when full of water.

Cooling off at Georgetown in the River Gambia. 2004

Within a month my brand new Sport Yak had a small split at the bow. Also I noticed a crackly sound as I got in and out of it, pushing on the sides, something I had never experienced with my previous Sport Yaks. As the split got bigger I grew suspicious my dinghy was a bad job and I photographed the split and emailed the supplier to let them know. They did not offer a replacement and blamed me for denting it.
As a child I remember sitting on the Sport Yak until the hull dented right in, and it was such a tough plastic it always straightened out with a pop. This new one was different.

Wassau, 150 miles up the River Gambia. May 1st 2004

Bansang 220 miles up the River Gambia. 2004

Bar at Denton bridge, Oyster Creek near Banjul, Gambia. 2004

Kaur, 150 miles up the River Gambia. 2004

I sailed to Senegal and into the River Gambia. The Sport Yak got lots of use and was even stolen for a few hours, but the locals found it a mile along the river and returned it to me. A youngster had taken it.
The unsinkable Sport Yak was used to wash clothes in and to play in the cooling sweet water of the River Gambia with 45C day temperatures.

Buba Samateh, friend and shipmate, at Georgetown 150 miles up the River Gambia. 2004

I eventually sailed back to Europe and in the French inland waterways the Sport Yak was essential to get ashore when canal sides were too shallow for the 4' 6" draft of Storm Petrel. The split in the bow kept growing extending all around. The whole top seemed to be fragile and became stress cracked all around.
The Sport Yak was almost a write off, just 4 years from brand new. After returning to Britain I sold Storm Petrel and the Sport Yak was given away to the buyers as a handy platform for floating around the boat to scrub the hull, but not a yacht tender of any worth. Within a month the new owners had the Sport Yak stolen. A year after it disappeared I spotted it in a local boat yard in a very derelict state. The split had grown to make the dinghy unusable and the little dinghy was abandoned, left to fate on a patch of sea grass and full of dirty rain water.

The end of Sport Yak by the River Deben, Suffolk, UK. 2013

I thought of reclaiming it and contacting Storm Petrel's owners, but I've left it to take it's course and instead have written this history of my Sport Yak. A tribute to a great dinghy, but a caution about poorly manufactured goods. I suppose for every thousand Bic biros there is a duff one.
I now have yet another Sport Yak which has all the excellent qualities I expect. It was owned by my parents as a play boat for their grand children and when they grew out of it, the Sport Yak spent 7 years behind the shed in their back garden, until they offered it to me to make use of on the River Deben, where I live on a house boat. Of course I jumped at it and the current Sport Yak rests intact and indestructible on the fore deck, ever ready for instant deployment on warm summer days at high tide.
My fourth Sport Yak is as good as number one and two. Number three was a bad one, even though it was an essential part of the biggest adventure of my life so far.

Stolen and derelict by the River Deben, Suffolk, UK. 2013

Ingress

2013-02-08T20:50:00.003Z

Undergrowth hid a portal visible on my phone. I was in the virtual reality of Google's Ingress game. Trees surrounded my visual field, Loba padded around in dead leaves carpeting the ground, my bicycle leaned against a tree nearby.
For ten minutes I stared intensely into my phone screen, maximising my gains and minimising my losses at the portal. I was happy that no other players had managed to access this portal because it had been located out of place, after I submitted it to Google but found it had erroneous gps geo location. But I knew the land owners and took advantage of my unique access knowledge to the thickly wooded and marshy piece of land.
I wondered about those people who use these quiet spots to meditate, the pure nature thinkers, skilled at clearing their thoughts and eyes, intent on perceiving 'reality'. As I stared into my phone screen my state of mind was almost completely uninvolved with my surroundings. Occasional glances around were met with the tangled colours of undergrowth and leaf mold and my senses were aware that other Ingress agents may have followed me to find out the way in.
These glances were instinctual, unfiltered reactions to gusts of wind in the leaves. Far from trying to silence the noise of technology, of smartphones and the Internet I was in a blur of interaction with those technologies to an extent they excluded the 'reality' around me. I was 99% concerned with the virtual reality of a computer visual overlayed on Google Maps.
I came to the conclusion that my feeling of not being 'there' in a natural sense was actually a way of being there very close to the way other animals experience it.
Wild animals are not like Buddhists, meditators or yogic nature lovers, in an imaginary enlightened state of clarity with nature. Wild animals are absorbed in hunting, foraging, hiding and moving into potentially risky new areas to gain resources. They are not at all concerned with clearing thoughts, or seeing deeper into life. My virtual reality state of mind gave me insight into what it is to be a hunter, the hunted and the animal at this spot, at this time, with all that involves.

While Ingress is just a game on your phone, playing requires you to move physically to portal locations. Portals are distributed all around the earth and there are already Ingress players of all nationalities. Ingress is still in invite only beta, current players are testing and providing feedback before it is released publicly. Even under this exclusivity, Woodbridge, a small town in the big game, has around four players and often players from surrounding towns visit to gain points by destroying and capturing 'my' relatively low level rural portals. Big cities have many portals and dozens of higher level players.
I love the daily use of maps and a compass on my phone, the detours and forays into other parts of town to find these virtual portals writhing in slow light and exotic matter. I love the way Ingress gets me away from my regular paths, takes me on walks and cycle rides and the five minute periods waiting for portals to 'cool down' after intense hacking. These waiting periods are inherent to game play, they force me to stand and wait. The only option is to look at the buildings, the trees, the statue, the sculpture, whatever unique features of human creativity a portal is placed at . I notice interesting brickwork, decorative window ledges, wrought ironwork, curving stone steps, blanked off doorways. I learn about my locale in ways I would not without these necessary pauses in the game.
The Ingress map shows nearby portals with distance in metres and their geographical relationship to the one I'm standing at. I get a real feeling for the layout of the area with portals acting as focal points on an action map. Ingress is just computer generated graphics on a phone - the lowest form of 'reality' for technophobes. But they miss the point with their distrust of virtual reality, which, when grounded in geographical locations, cultural artifacts such as sculptures and murals, and architectural sweet spots, is far from imaginary, or even a game at all. Google's Ingress is a world wide catalyst to walk, cycle or drive around in reality. In my experience Ingress does not blind you to the world by replacing it with a computer simulation, it makes the world into an adventure of exploration and discovery of what is 'out there'.

Honda C90 and Ed March

2013-01-23T07:30:00.000Z

Ed March image from his YouTube video in Iran

Ed March rode a Honda C90 from Malaysia to the UK over 8 months. His YouTube videos are fantastic because Ed is the most good natured and happy go lucky rider in the world.
Now Ed March is organising an adventure tour in 2013, from Mongolia to the UK, which he describes like this:

10 lucky (or unlucky ;) riders in search of adventure. We will fly to Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia with only hand-luggage and a sense of adventure. Once settled, we'll then head off to the local bike market and each buy a small, cheap and simple Chinese Honda, AKA a 'Chonda' for around £500. Then we'll start equipping the bikes and getting ready for the road. This will be up to you. I'll probably be buying some soft panniers and a cheap waterproof topbox, and get the frames welded up at a local shop. I'd advise doing something similar and keeping the bike light, but what you do is up to you.
This is where we'll also buy the tools and other equipment for the trip; camping stoves, tents, sleeping bags and spare parts for the bikes. These are all so cheap out there that it's not worth taking it on the plane. Plus I really enjoy the idea of getting back to the UK with a genuine Mongolian jumper and bike pump and being reminded of the trip every time I use them. Not to mention having a Mongolian motorcycle to ride around too.

The idea to buy the bikes, luggage and other equipment locally in Mongolia is so refreshing, it benefits the country, instead of tourists orbiting by, isolated from the local people and economy by over-priced 'adventure' gear purchased in London prior to departure.
On his Malaysia - UK ride Ed March made a YouTube video of Iran, which shows his world girdling, friendly style.

The Chonda Challenge and other Ed March Adventures are on his website.

Woodbridge Tide Mill

2013-01-18T23:58:00.001Z

Woodbridge Tide Mill has worked for over 800 years harnessing the tides to drive a mill producing flour and animal feed. It was the last commercially working tide mill in Britain. At the heart of the mill is a 5m diameter waterwheel constructed of oak. The River Deben is 9 miles from the sea and the tide rises twice each day, filling a reservoir, called Wyllie's Pool. When the tide has fallen the reservoir flows out to drive the waterwheel.
I shall find out if Wyllie's Pool is a reference to William Lionel Wyllie (1851 - 1931) an English maritime artist.
The present Tide Mill was built in 1793. It stands on a public quay with benches overlooking the River Deben.

High water on a warm autumn day. And on a winter day.

At night.

Woodbridge Tide Mill.
Tide Mill Way, Woodbridge, Suffolk, IP12 1BY.
Tel: 01728 746959

Opening times: 11:00 - 17:00 Last entry 16:30 . Open every day May to September (April and October weekends only). Closed November to March.

Will you come and help us sail our boat home?

2013-01-16T07:30:00.000Z

When you have a reputation as a sailor, friends who get caught up in the romance of sea travel ask you to help them bring their new boats home. I used to accept these invitations and this video shows it's really fun, but nowadays I'm a cynical old ex-sailor and I just say no!
The last time I helped a friend deliver his boat was in the month of February and it was freezing cold. When we went out to sea over the River Deben bar the waves were quite frightening, sploshing over the cockpit and soaking us. I had my little dog with me of course and she was really frightened, so much so she quaked and shivered for two hours. I tried to wrap her inside my multiple layers of fleeces and coats, but she was not suffering cold, it was the sheer unpleasant winter seascape that freaked her out. So I said never again!
This trip in the video was a different kettle of fish, lovely weather, and happy people, frying up kippers, just enjoying the newness of the experience. They were lucky to be treated to the best the sea has to offer, smooth waves and a gentle sailing breeze. There's nothing like it when it's good, but I've seen both sides and I don't want it any more.

Dogs aloud!

2013-01-10T17:08:00.000Z

Many proprietors believe there are Health & Safety laws against allowing dogs into their cafe's. There are not. There are guidelines pointing out the necessity of scrupulous cleaning where food is prepared and served, but no ban on dogs in food environments.
Costa Coffee in Woodbridge does not allow dogs inside, whereas The Crown Hotel does. So I go and enjoy the quiet comfort inside The Crown Hotel during the cold winter months. Costa Coffee are losing a significant number of sales from their decision.
Costa Coffee have a loyalty card, they email me my points and special promotions. I got an email saying "We haven't seen you at Costa for a while, but why not make 2013 more rewarding in every sense. Below is your latest points balance and what you can buy or save towards. We hope to see you soon."
So I wrote back explaining my absence.

Hello.

I enjoy Costa Coffee throughout the summer when I can savour a latte on the terrace in the sun. It is now winter and due to Costa Coffee choice to not allow dogs inside, I have not enjoyed a latte since September. I am not complaining because I understand the choice to avoid the extra layer of complications inherent to having dogs in a cafe. However there is no law against it and the decision is made purely to keep the majority of non-dog owner customers content. However this single factor in Costa Coffee's business choices is the reason I have not been spending my money in Costas.

During the summer of 2012 I spent approximately £400 in Costa Coffee, Woodbridge. This trend would continue throughout the winter but my little, well behaved dog, 'Loba' is excluded from the cafe.

Thank you for listening and I look forwards to the spring weather when I shall be back on Costa's terrace enjoying the relaxing ambience and good coffee again.

Regards.

Clarissa Vincent

Loba is with me 24/7

Ban my dog for arbitrary reasons, but do not expect me to continue to spend money with you if you do.

I find children running around, falling over, knocking drinks over, and screaming in a cafe, highly disturbing, but they are not banned. All the pubs, hotels and cafe's I have been in with dogs present have been far quieter and relaxed than a typical Costas Coffee with a throng of young children present.

Lesson 230812 alto sax beginners blues in G (Bb concert) backing track only

2013-01-08T21:50:00.000Z

12 bar blues in G for alto sax (Bb concert)
Exercises:
Use the key of G,
Use the scale of G and the G triad.
Use the C scale and triad and the D scale and triad.
Play the root note of each chord.
Play the root note and its octave.
Remember to play rests, such as leaving one bar or a couple of beats as silent, but structured rhythmical silences.

Lesson 230812 - Alto sax beginners blues in G (Bb concert)

2013-01-08T21:26:00.000Z

Sailor home from the sea

2013-01-02T07:30:00.000Z

After 20 years of sailing I have sold my last sailing boat. The crown of my sailing years was a 4 1/2 year voyage from Britain to west Africa and back. When I arrived back to Britain I at last had a video camera and this is one of the few videos I made while still on The Voyage of Storm Petrel. When I sold Storm Petrel in spring 2012 I bought a motorcycle, so the adventures continue, but I can stop for a coffee whenever I wish.

There are two books of this voyage:
The Voyage of Storm Petrel. Book One. Britain to Senegal Alone in a Boat.

These links are to Amazon.co.uk the books and Kindles are available in the US and other global Amazon sites.
The Voyage of Storm Petrel. Book Two. Gambia and Europe Alone in a Boat.
Available in paperback and Kindle on Amazon

YouTube as archive

2012-12-26T17:10:00.000Z

Video recording is ubiquitous, but most YouTube videos show something spectacular or a funny moment, not all. Some people make videos of everyday scenes which seem quite pointless and boring. I made a YouTube video five years ago of a walk around the river where I live. I was capturing the mood of the place, without anything spectacular appearing, just my contentment at being out in nature, with my dog.
Now that five years has passed I can look again at that walk and notice the subtle changes - the flowering gorse bush which was ripped down by an environmental team when they rebuilt the sea wall defences, but which regenerated from a single seed buried beneath the roots, which were entirely removed. It took five years for that seed to grow into another gorse bush of similar size to the one I liked before.
In the Ferry Quay I can see which boats were there then and which have been taken away to be broken up, and which ones have appeared new. I see my little long distance voyaging yacht, which I sold in spring 2012 and replaced with a static houseboat.
So these seemingly featureless videos capture a moment in time which would otherwise slip by unnoticed.
This is the River Deben walk video I made in May 2007, when, following a 4 1/2 year solo voyage away from Britain, I was establishing myself in Woodbridge, looking for opportunities to establish a settled way of life, taking refuge from the stress and presssures of being rootless, along the the river path where loba and I could play and laugh and walk. What better way to embed yourself in reality than with play? And begin to learn about capturing the essence of life and living, with whatever resources I had, a cheap digital stills camera (Fuji Finepix) with video setting.
It takes time to groove in to a new life setting and one strong way to do that is creating an archive of memories. Time soon passes but YouTube videos remain to show where you came from.

In west Africa there is a saying: When you don't know where you are going, look to where you have come from.

The End of the World 2012 or just laughing my hair off

2012-12-19T07:30:00.000Z

Facebook and Google+ are the primary social networking sites at the moment, but an alternative and amusing place is Amazon product reviews. So much more than mere consumer reports, these can be hilarious. In Amazon reviews the mundane and tedious egotism of Facebook is absent. The usual Facebook gaze at domestic trivia - photographs of our newly decorated lounge - holiday snaps - crass political rhetoric. Meanwhile, social networking sites encourage this sharing in order to keep people there and exposed to the advertising. Amazon reviews are a different space, where products are at the fore, but some reviews take on a character of their own. Once a review is harnessed to humour it develops and stimulates a large response. Some comments are simply saying how much the reader is enjoying the reviews and the product under review is almost irrelevant. For example Veet For Men Hair Removal Gel Creme currently has over five hundred reviews. Here are some extracts:

"I am giving the product only 4 stars as I feel the instructions should be in larger font so that they can be read whilst crying."

Whether this refers to crying with laughter or crying from pain I'm not sure.

"Someone put the link to these reviews on my Facebook page, clearly knowing my sense of humour well. I can honestly say, i've not laughed as hard since my dad caught his head on the washing line and pinged back with such force, he almost ended up in the neighbour's garden."

The reviews are self-consciously performative, with competitive exaggeration about the effects of Veet For Men as well as the range of words and terms used to describe the male body. Most are from the man's point of view, with the humour around men and their privates, how they describe them with a mixture of fondness and mystery, of privacy and showing off. It is a response to the idea of men wishing to remove body hair - a challenge to brute notions of masculinity. Some female writers cheered the men along in support of their struggles with masculine identities.

"This was the most fantastic product ever invented due to the hilarity it has produced for all us women!! Most definitely THE funniest reviews EVER!!!!!"

And another female supporter.

"Thank you so much you silly men who have made my mum and I cry with laughter over their their 'de-fuzzing' techniques. The best laugh I have had for a long time."

A main theme is the excuse of men being required by their wives or girlfriends to tidy up their body hair, for surely it would be un-masculine to want to do it for himself. Masculinity is also defined as 'not reading the product instructions', such as the number of minutes to leave the product to work before washing it away. They chose instead to use large amounts for extended times, even if it meant suffering some pain - after all these are men and they can suffer for their masculinity and men know the over-cautious safety margins on product literature are for wimps. But also in the texts are men playing with masculinities, with the ability to laugh at themselves, even admit being titillated by the cool cream on their nether parts, before the pain kicked in, or the homo-erotic machismo of having a 'chum' apply the cream to one man's back. He must be very secure in his masculinity that he can allude to homosexuality in humour. I think there is a celebration of the masculine in it's nuanced and complex depths.

"...I as many other before me opened the box, discarded the instructions and applied the magic cream, I mean, who but a total moron needs instrctions on how to rub a bit of cosmetic dollop onto their twigs and berrie. Having applied the cream all round the family vegetable plot and getting a "chum" to do the same to my back I decided to lay on my bed for the designated 6 minutes (+ 2 for luck) and let the magic work its wonders. Unfortunately I fell asleep only to wake up 30 minutes later in what appeared to be a burning building but not able to see and blinded by the tears streaming down my face from the pain of the flames licking round my 'undercarridge'. Convinced then that the flames had totaly engulfed me and had already started to cook my entire body I leaped out of my bed and without breaking step dived through the nearest window only to land on the dog who took one look at me, panicked at what he saw, bit me and bolted out of the garden never to be seen again. Now lying naked and screaming in agony in my front garden with what appeared to be a boiling hot rancid smelling black sludge sliding down my body a passer by called an ambulance although at the time I was begging for the services of an exorcist as it was obvious to me that all of Satans little devils were trying to remove my skin with cheesegraters. Having been removed to the burns unit of my local hospital I was given pain killers and sedated for 2 weeks and on my release arrived home to find my bed sheet indelibly marked with the outline of my body burnt into it like a modern day Shroud of Turin. (...) After serious consideration I have decided to give this product 5 stars as the review is for the efficiency of the product rather than the life changing effect of not reading the instructions."

And another long one.

"I realised all was not well. The most intolerable pain had enveloped the two old boys, and indeed the base of my passion baton. To make matters worse a small amount had dripped over into the dark side, leaving my rectum feeling like a dragons nostril for several days (...) Luckily I was in my garden, and I could hose down the fire with my recently purchased Powerhose. Unfortunately, the local community support officer was strolling by and he arrested me for flouting the hosepipe ban. Neither worth the pain or fixed penalty notice, but five stars for effectiveness."

Notice the reference to another seemingly unrelated Amazon product purchase, a 'Powerhose', which happened to come in useful. This nod at the context of the Amazon reviews is subtle and amusing. More encouragement for the boys in their run of humour.

"Praise The Lord for the gift of laughter. This is by far the funniest stuff I've read in a long time. Laughter is healthy, keep the reviews coming! Off to dry my eyes..."

If you wish to see for yourself go to the actual product review pages of 'Veet For Men Hair Removal Gel Creme 200 ml', but be prepared, remember this is the Internet and when men start joking about 'deforesting' their 'gentleman's log cabin' etc. there are bound to be some pretty outrageous terms. I saw the Veet reviews several months ago and wondered if they would be taken down as flippant and unsuitable for Amazon, but they are still there. I'm surprised someone has not published a small book containing the whole collection, at least someone could archive the whole 500 as a website, before they are eventually routed out by the system. Perhaps someone will publish the whole set as a book, but I will not be buying it because they become quite tedious after the core reviews with the funniest accounts have been laughed at. Interestingly the more recent reviews seem to have taken on a different tone, gone are the extreme stories, instead there are mundane comments about receiving the product in damaged packaging or other slightly negative responses. Was it all a marketing ploy by Veet? Or at least tolerated by Veet and Amazon for the attention it was gaining, a marketing ploy in itself in a social media driven world?

Temps Vertique

2012-12-12T07:30:00.000Z

Samsung Galaxy S3 Android smart phone, with 8mp camera and a 'panorama' feature which stitches together a set of images. I've tried various typical panorama images, but soon found myself playing with vertical panoramas. The image on the left was taken on the River Deben path near Woodbridge, Suffolk, UK, my local escape route from the confines of crowded public spaces. The panorama is done by starting from a certain point of view, then pointing the phone/camera in an arc. As it detects the edge of each image it takes another. There are guide lines showing the required frame for subsequent images, and by shifting the lens until each framed guideline is positioned, the image is automatically captured. I wondered how to use such a tall image and realised text scans vertically, in European writing, from top to bottom. This vertical arrangement was a favourite philosophy of my French friend 'Arno', who often attempted to explain, in French, the concept of 'temps vertique' - an altered model of time - vertical time. He would exclaim, temps vertique, fire, smoke, it goes upwards, trees, they grow upwards, raising his hands aloft in a rhetorical gesture. Life, it progresses upwards, he said, looking at me as if it was so obvious and profound. Vertical time as an egg timer, time does not move onwards into the future, instead, Arno insisted it moves vertically. This sounded impressive, heard through the haze of a few glasses of wine and the blank slate naivety of my French comprehension.

'Loba' is my cairn terrier of seven years. We have walked the River Deben path many, many times, in sun and snow, on empty Monday mornings, when most people are at work. On 2am night walks, when the stars brim with presence and the wind is asleep. On Saturday afternoons, when visitors and locals inhabit the narrow path, boxing me in to frequent trivial confrontations, as they approach in groups of three or four, heedless of a person and little dog approaching, forcing us off into the long grass to get around them. The night walks and Monday mornings are best, that is when my path is all mine and a vertiginous eternity looms overhead in plain view. Without the limiting play of public path etiquette.

Quality of tone first

2012-12-05T07:30:00.000Z

I have been learning to work the saxophone for over twenty years. I practice on the street in my home town, by busking and earn a pocketful of coins in the bargain. The clunky keys and levers of a saxophone can be a real struggle, such as on dank, grey days, when the air itself is resistant to the vibrating column of air inside the brass instrument and the sound from the tone holes and bell is muddy and resistive. On hot dry days the air is resonant and clear, playing the saxophone is blissful, fragments of melody strung up and down the street, persist like spinning tops on a shiny smooth surface. These are moments of effortless musicality.

Recently I chose to play the jazz standard Take Five (by alto saxophonist Paul Desmond) in the original key. Years ago I learnt to play it in the key of A minor, but it was written in the key of C minor. Different types of musical instruments have unique strengths and weaknesses in various notes and so the key signature has a big effect on the way the song sounds. Take Five is tricky, with an unusual time signature, 5 beats to the bar, a ‘compound’ time signature – 1, 2, 3, 1, 2//1, 2, 3, 1, 2//. Take Five is also a mixed bag of arpeggios and blues scales and in my old familiar key signature it had become easy through repetition, but the new, correct, key was not. However with so much coffee fuelled playing this Summer I discovered a new phenomena, I found myself playing much better by forgetting the mechanics of fingering and instead, listening to the music as if I was in the audience. This enables a sweeter musicality because each part of the song leads to the next and the audience has a feeling for what they wish to hear and how the music goes. Even though I was confused and unable to visualise the new fingering in the new key signature, by listening to the song as I attempted to play it I was able to play almost perfectly. So despite hardly knowing how my fingers where operating the pearl buttons and brass side-keys of the saxophone, I was able to guide them via my ears. For a while I wondered if this was a sign my playing was deteriorating into a sloppy careless miasma, but Take Five was beginning to sound just like Take Five should. I know this because I was listening and enjoying it too, as an aesthetic experience of tone and melody.

It is a peculiar responsibility to forgo control of the mechanics of the saxophone in order to be able to work it effectively. My aim is to make music, not to be a technician. Many formal musicians work so hard at complete technical mastery and are accomplished in that, but to my ears the feeling of the music and tone is often absent in such players. I made a choice in my musical adventures to put ‘tone’ as the first priority of all the things I play, to ’always aim for the heart’.

My Samsung Galaxy S3 smart phone has a panorama feature in its camera settings. I enjoy playing with panoramas, such as taking vertical strips, instead of the usual horizontal, wide-angle panoramas. One reason these vertical bookmark shaped images are not generally popular is how unsuited to display a tall thin shape is. In this image of a flower on the banks of the River Deben in Suffolk, UK, the tone is the strongest element, the soft focus pink of the flower and the way the digital scan and stitch of the sky has given a compressed effect. For me tone and feel are more important than perfect representation of the photographic subject and musicality.

Leaping willingly into a data mine?

2012-12-02T17:50:00.000Z

Google have a data mining strategy to enhance their mapping with user generated location data. A division of Google, called Niantic Labs, previously developed the app, Field Trip. This was a geo cache activity app. The current project is Ingress. Similarly location based but with a competitive aim, users choose one of two factions, Enlightenment or Resistance and they compete to capture portals for their own side and then maintain the portal by feeding it with XM - Exotic Matter - which consists of credits gained through the game. The story is of beings from another dimension, called Shapers, which are attempting to shape the human race, with the spurious benefit of technological and intellectual advancement and that Shapers have shaped humanity for ever anyhow, so we may as well embrace them and accept their Enlightenment. The Resistance is skeptical and believes the correct path is to prevent the loss of good old down to earth humanity.
The Ingress app is free on Google Play Store but once installed it will not activate. Instead the frustrated user is fed with rumours and incremental updates full of the promise of imminent arrival of your activation code invite. Ingress is in beta and Google wish to shape the battlefield to their advantage, so until the app and user base is primed for mass take-up the rumours and conspiracy theories continue.
What a hopeful user can do while waiting for activation is to submit potential portal locations. This is done by photographing suitable portals, landmarks, interesting buildings, public libraries, tourist spots, businesses etc. With geo tagging switched on the picture is taken and then sent to NIA Super Ops, which will appear in an Android phone after the Ingress app is installed. I am currently enjoying this part of the game because it involves no conflict, simply walking to my favourite places and photographing the locations I think would make good portals for Ingress.
The data mining aspect is interesting in that portals tend to be the most common Google Maps points of interest, such as Nelson's Column, The Taj Mahal etc. What the data mining exercise misses is the grass roots, the truly local and intimate data. When Google maps is used there are photographs at locations frequented by the public, everyone takes more or less the same photo of a landmark and some upload their handiwork to Google maps. One problem I foresee is Ingress will be populated globally by enthusiastic players happily providing data via gameplay, but if portals are the lowest common denominator they will miss out on the truly deep data of local knowledge.
There is a big difference in going to a tourist office to find the places to visit in a new location, compared to visiting friends who have their favourite spots, such as where they walk their dog daily or where they go to do some undisturbed qigong practice. These grass roots locations are not beauty spots in the general sense, in the language of tourist offices or even of Google Maps, they are little visited gems. Instead of a public monument, or a tourist visitor centre at a landmark, these intimate locations are created by daily use. They may be a tight path by a hedgerow, a cut between housing estates, where blackberries grow. My favourite spots are those I go with my dog, the corner of a maize field where I saw a big red dog fox once and the gateway where I fed a herd of cows with maize heads. Other gems are a slipway into the River Deben with a ramshackle boat shed and a long crank wooden mast set into the muddy foreshore.
So, unless Ingress enables players to establish truly local 'portals', then Google will miss out on the net gains from their gross tonnage of data mined from Ingress users.
I have yet to receive my activation code, known as an Ingress Invite, but I know it will turn up soon. As far as I can see there are no other players in East Anglia and so I may not have a game to play even when I am invited. If I could establish a host of rural 'portals' and maintain them in my chosen side, Resistance, then that presence would attract the opposition to come and spend a day in Suffolk and capture the portals for their own side. In the process they would get to visit some of the most subtle and gently rewarding experiences available in the location.

I'm sure my favourite tree in Woodbridge, an old copper beech, will not be accepted as an Ingress portal, but I would like these intimate and modest places to become part of the Ingress universe.
Otherwise all Google will gain from the data mining exercise that is Ingress, will be a reinforcement of the popular tourist spots within their mapping database.
I am not concerned about having my favourite local spots overwhelmed by geeks playing imaginary battles on their Android phones, because once grass roots Ingress portals are enabled globally there will be so many they will all be hidden in the crowd.
This is a photograph I submitted to NIA Super Ops with an added Ingress logo, as my attempt to gain an early invitation to play, while the game is still in beta.
Something inside me says already I will be quite bored by Ingress once it becomes open to the public and each portal is a hive of opposing XM Exotic Matters - geeks with Android smartphones standing around fighting their imaginary battles with their touchscreens. Perhaps then I shall be grateful that my secret places have not been taken up?

Lo Fi Hi Qi

2012-12-01T07:30:00.000Z

In 2007 after I returned from The Voyage of Storm Petrel, it took a few years to get back into British life. I'd been far away on the voyage and seen many beautiful places, I was changed by the time and distance, my life was salt cracked,I had no job and no money. My approach was to absorb myself in the place I settled on as my new home, Woodbridge, Suffolk and walking along the River Deben with Loba, my cairn terrier, was a daily routine which gave me time and space to reflect and appreciate being 'home', to be British again.
Music and video became my focus, my way of expressing the melancholy of having finished one big journey and starting a new one - the tricky journey known as 'settling down'.
Several times during the voyage I had written in my daily log book, 'When I get back home I want to concentrate on playing the saxophone and become a much better musician.' Nowadays I feel I have advanced in leaps and bounds compared to five years ago and yet the music I was playing and creating then was, nevertheless, full of feeling and brimful of mood.
Here is a piece I recorded in 2007 and the video to go with it, I'd realised there was no such thing as home, that 'home' is created from the friends you meet and the experiences you create together. In 2007 I had neither, only the river path, a dog to share it with, a saxophone and a video camera.

girl in a gale

2012-11-28T18:29:00.002Z

During an enforced stay in France, waiting for the importation requirements for the dog I rescued from the Canary Islands, I lived on the French inland waterways, on the River L'Aa. It was free, I had an electricity connection from some helpful French people nearby and the village, Watten, had the basic necessities for life - a couple of supermarkets, a few bars, a hardware shop and some lovely surrounding woodland.
I had to stay six months and winter is harsh on the continent, without the Gulf Stream to warm the climate, but I discovered an important aspect of happiness. Somehow the limitations came with a gift. Those 180 days consisted of scraping a living with my saxophone in a town called St Omer, a ten kilometre cycle ride away. I took portrait photographs of Watten locals and gave most away. The small tourist office gave me an exhibition. My neighbours helped me survive the cold and strong winter weather by providing social contact, we went on our bicycles into the woods to collect sweet chesnuts, drank pastis, belgian beer and wine around a fire on the river bank and shared meals. This rural and hardy period made me happier than I can remember at any other time in my experience. The Voyage of Storm Petrel was complete, all there was left of that was to sail the boat across the English Channel to Britain and edit the book draft into a publishable manuscript.
Despite all this I still found myself suffering cabin fever. One day I filmed myself inside the boat and this short and silly video, which I named 'girl in a gale', has nearly 7000 views on YouTube.
'girl in a gale' has become my brand name which I use for music and videos. Of course it is not a real gale, but of course it is a real girl.
Watch 'girl in a gale'. It's a study in cabin fever, it's a boat, a voyage, a life, it's the promise of a return home, it's a snapshot into a happy life, it's the end of a voyage.

Costas Rational

2012-11-28T07:30:00.000Z

I stayed away from coffee shops for several years. I was saving money and since building the cabin and moving off a tiny sailing boat into a relatively palatial houseboat, I preferred to make good coffee at home. This summer some friends bought a take-out Costa Coffe soya latte and it was delicious, so I made a deal with myself - as long as I took my saxophone with me, I would be allowed to spend £2.45p on a soya latte at Costa Coffee. The significant cost would be covered easily by busking, Costa Coffee is in the heart of Woodbridge and after a caffeine boost I'd find it easy to play for a few hours.
My whole daily routine has changed. I used to spend at least an hour doing morning chores, but now I get out of bed, put on my jeans, shoes, jacket and walk straight up into the Thouroughfare for a wake-up coffee. Loba the dog loves waking and going straight out without those tedious domestic chores to endure. The only condition is that however sleepy and disinclined I feel when I awake, I must take my saxophone with me.
As time went on I began to use the coffee terrace as my office. I sit there, watching the shops open around 8.30am, I socialise with a new raft of locals and visitors. One motorcyclist always gives me his Motorcycle News after he has read it. I spend time on my smart phone, organising emails, diary, music theory notes. Occasionally I sit with headphones, listening to music as inspiration for busking songs. The acacia tree in front of the terrace is a beautiful green, it gives cool shade and a swish of natural presence to the street scene. The location, a relaxing milieux in the centre of the Thouroughfare is occasionally a melee of reserved chairs and moaning about the queue inside at the counter.
Life has altered for 'Loba' too, we get straight up and out in the morning and spend whole days in town, between my busking pitches and 'the office' - Costa Coffee terrace, entertaining people and meeting them.
Nowadays I adore the smell of fresh roasting coffee more than ever before, with the re-grooved associations - a pocketful of coins, extra hours of saxophone practice, chatting to new people and appreciating the doing what I love most the long whole day through of Summer 2012.

Águas de Março - The Waters of March

2012-11-26T19:26:00.001Z

This song has captivated my heart this autumn. I have begun to identify the subtle bossa nova rhythm and chords on my guitar, but the phrasing of the lyrics is nearly impossible.

My problem is each time I read through the words I cannot help blubbing. There is such potency in the way the lines are strung, like dew laden spider webs, between pessimism, loss and ending and the bright optimism of 'the promise of spring' and the earthy tactile nature of lines like, 'A scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all

It's the wind blowing free, it's the end of the slope'.

The Waters of March - a song about everything. The song is actually about the heavy rains and flooding in Rio de Janiero, in the month of March.

Variations in the lyrics abound. My chosen arrangement is by the singer Mark Murphy and so I adhere to his particular set of words. The song was written by Antonio Carlos Jobim in brazilian portuguese and he also translated it with adaptations, into English.

Águas de Março - Antonio Carlos Jobim

(As sung by Mark Murphy)

A stick, a stone, it's the end of the road
It's the rest of a stump, it's a little alone
It's a sliver of glass, it is life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun

The oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush
A knot in the wood, the song of a thrush
The wood of the wind, a cliff, a fall
A scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all
It's the wind blowing free, it's the end of the slope
It's a beam, it's a void, it's a hunch, it's a hope
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the end of the strain, It's the joy in your heart

The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone
The beat of the road, a slingshot stone
A fish, a flash, a silvery glow
A fight, a bet, the range of a bow,
The bed of the well, the end of the line
The dismay in the face, it's a loss, it's a find
A spear, a spike, a point, a nail
A drip, a drop, the end of a tale
A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light
The shot of a gun in the dead of the night
A mile, a must, a thrust, a bump,
It's a girl, it's a rhyme, it's a cold, it's the mumps

The plan of the house, the body in bed
And the car that got stuck, it's the mud, it's the mud
A float, a drift, a flight, a wing
A hawk, a quail, the promise of spring
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart

INSTRUMENTAL BREAK

A snake, a stick, it is John, it is Joe
It's a thorn in your hand, and a cut in your toe
A point, a grain, a bee, a bite
A blink, a buzzard, a sudden stroke of night
A pin, a needle, a sting, a pain
A snail, a riddle, a wasp, a stain
A pass in the mountains, a horse and a mule
In the distance the shelves rode three shadows of blue
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life in your heart, in your heart
A stick, a stone, the end of the load
The rest of a stump, a lonesome road
A sliver of glass, a life, the sun
A night, a death, the end of of the run
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart

(Words copyright of Antonio Carlos Jobim. All rights respected)

Desk

2012-11-21T07:30:00.000Z

As soon as I'd built the houseboat cabin I constructed my desk, 6' long, amply deep but slightly too high.
Previously I lived aboard a late 1960's sailing boat, cramped inside like a very small van, but a witch to windward. The houseboat I now live on has a proper liveaboard shed built on top after I removed part of the decks and a bulkhead which divided up the space inside.
My desk is a control centre where I work for hours each day. It is cluttered and scruffy, but I know exactly where everything is. I also know where the rain leaks hit, so there are a couple of bowls to catch water. It's all part of living on a boat to have a few rain drips, keeps you on your toes, keeps you in contact with the weather outside and I never get the feeling that I am unaware of what's happening outside. The tide rises and falls twice a day and I hear the gang plank creaking. On stormy nights with a high tide the hanging coats swing violently to and fro.
I salvaged an old computer chair from the rubbish bin, took it to try it out, really just to see if a full size chair would take up too much space and whether it would be long term comfortable. That was a year ago and I'm sitting on it as I write. The big improvement came after I bought a piece of sheepskin to sit on and now I can do 10 hours sitting at my desk without the baboon bum effect.
The ribbed tubing going up centre of picture is the chimney of my solid fuel stove. That is next to my chair where I can benefit from the warmth and keep an ear on the state it's in. A wood fire is a living thing, sometimes they roar and need shutting down, other times they go silent for a whole day but put out as much heat as a five bar radiator.
I built my desk high up thinking I'd be sitting at it on a tall stool, because tall stools have a small footprint, but a stool is not practical for long periods. The computer chair is ideal and cost me just a piece of sheepskin, which was a cheap bit, £12 from the local leather shop.
I will get another piece of sheepskin for the dog's bed as she definitely responded to the real skin scent, but this is my sheepskin and she needs her own, which will get covered in her black hair.

Blogging as genre

2012-11-14T07:30:00.002Z

One of my favourite aspects of blogging is how an image and text can be placed in close association and the picture subtly informs the text. Perhaps my train of thought about those who blog and those who do not was in my mind as I took the path along the river.

Perhaps the act of stopping on the path with my smart phone camera in 'panorama' mode, was a playful moment of production in the process of blogging. I was not taking a picture to remember the scene, I was playing with the scene, framing it in a new way, expressing the pleasure that blogging, taking digital photographs and exploring amusing viewpoints that blogging requires.
There are distinct attitudes towards blogging - those that embrace it and are already doing it, in their various ways - political commentaries in a journalistic style; displaying art work or fashion interests; sailing or motorcycle travelogues. And those that really don't get it. Some people can't the time for that sort of thing and are not interested in writing about themselves in a public forum. Many people do not have the technical knowledge, or more likely the interest, in blogging.

Blogging is an attitude towards Internet communication, it opens topics to public levels. Blogs are distinct from private emails and social media status updates. There is the difference. Facebook, Google+ and other mass social sites are designed to suck up trivia from people's daily experience to perpetuate a miasma of egotism and Blogging is a writing genre which can bore and intimidate those who are content with Facebook.

As an opposite view I include a poster by Australia Post beautifully promoting the letter as a valid medium for communication. (Image copyright Australia Post)

A motorcycle and a dream of adventure riding

2012-11-10T07:30:00.000Z

I bought a motorcycle with a dream of riding long distance, of an audacious trip to southern Europe for a few months, maybe write a book along the way. Part of long distance adventure is carrying stuff, so I bought some panniers. Oxford First Time Luggage panniers are soft and attach with velcro straps over and under the seat. These panniers cost £38.99p inc. delivery, from Ebay seller Ghostbikes_uk Capacity expands to 48ltrs which has proved enough to fit a bag of wood kindling in each side. Here are the panniers fitted to my BMW R65.

Granny like cheese?

2012-11-09T16:39:00.000Z

Loba is a cairn terrier I rescued from a charity in the Canary Islands. We sailed together from Gran Canaria to madeira and then to mainland Europe. In Gibraltar I expected complications with her going ashore because Gibraltar is UK territory and the UK has very strict anti rabies rules. If a pet is being newly imported it had to wait 6 months for the rabies vaccination to take effect (This rule has recently been relaxed to three months). In Gibraltar the immigration authority was not interested in my dog, just waved a hand at her and said, "It's fine, no problem". Loba eventually came into Britain and we live here on a boat still. Here's a short video I made of one of those funny little moments with your dog. The story of how I got Loba and our travels together is in the book: The Voyage of Storm Petrel. Gambia and Europe Alone in a Boat. Clarissa Vincent. Available in paperback and Kindle on Amazon.

Google rioting in profusion

2012-08-29T22:33:00.000+01:00

Google offers manifold websites and content platforms. Google offers revenue creation tools in Adsense and monetising of YouTube videos. I have dozens of Google products - blogs, YouTube, Google+, Google Checkout, Google Maps and Earth and Street View etc. Google is forever offering more fun and productivity. But half of it is utterly bewidering. I just converted my Blogger profile to a Google+ Profile, which simply means my blog readers will see my Google+ profile instead of the one unique to my blogging. The advantage? Well, now my blog posts can be sent straight to my Google+ and my blog posts can be +1'd straight from my blogs.
So, it's all about making it easier for other people to 'Like' me and what I produce. Fair enough, but isn't it all a big sprawling roundabout of mostly pointless connections? I mean if I make a music video on YouTube wouldn't it be nicer just to let it be seen by YouTube users without relentlessly self referencing my stuff across the whole gamut of Google products, like some frantic Internet wanabee celebrity?
Google products have come and gone, there was Google Wave, which I attempted to use as a shared editing forum for a book I was self publishing. Then Wave was discontinued, so all the profile set up, connecting with editors, placing chapters into Wave and gaining knowledge how to edit and update the Wave, was wasted.
Google Docs has become Google Drive, OK no problem, it is an updated continuation, but still there is this interminable flux, which gives the impression of shifting sands, of perpetual beta testing and of the users of Google products being a huge test bed for Google domination strategies in a changing Internet.
The latest attempt I've done at conforming to the Google metropolis is to have 'validated'my blog - www.seagreenribbons.blogspot as owned by me, in order that it can be connected with my Google+ profile as my main website. But there is no explanation as to what to do when the validation process fails. Can't Google see that my blog is me as much as my Google+ presence?
So now I'm looking for a subtle way to paste a small piece of validation code into a part of my blog that will be identifiable by Google central and yet not publicly visible because it is simply an irellavant snippet of Google process rather than a piece of entertaining writing or music that I wish to be seen on my site.
This is what I'm getting bored with - the time taken up with clicking around the Google metropolis attempting to make it all work together for me. I have realised my life has very little time to sit and ponder what it is that I am, what I want, what I have been. That seemingly boring space where the dog comes out of grumpy sleep to see what's going on, to ask are we going for a walk. That valuable point in life where you sit and look at the day passing and appreciate it's all slipping by at a rate so quick, it's unbelievable. Instead, I spend all these hours each day providing content for Google Inc.
So. I'm off to take the dog for a walk and have a look at the night sky, to get a glimpse of a part of the world not stamped by the Google logo...

Online saxophone busking

2012-06-09T22:39:00.000+01:00

Support your local busker with a 50p drop
Thanks!
If you enjoy hearing the music but don't want to make a drop, it's up to you, just enjoy it for free. Buskers are happy people who live on nothing but happy songs
To make a drop, click this link and it will enable you to do so securely through Paypal.
Or play the video, without reaching into your pocket, for free. Just like shoppers in the Thoroughfare can walk on by and enjoy the ambience of a saxophonist without paying anything..

Busking in Woodbridge, Suffolk, UK. 2012.
Yamaha YAS275. Jumbo Java A45 mouthpiece with Rico Royal #2 reed.
In loving memory of Poppy Harvey, who died aged 18 in 2009. Her parents so thoughtfully passed her saxophone on to me.

HRH Queen Elizabeth

2012-06-07T19:24:00.000+01:00

The figurehead of the United Kingdom is everywhere in the media this week. Not being a 'Royalist', I know very little about HRH Queen Elizabeth, but these photographs of her as a young woman portray a more nuanced person than the one I grew up seeing in the media.

Princess Elizabeth, future Queen of England, riding a BSA C10 250cc.

Princess Elizabeth trained during the 2nd World War, aged 19, with the ATS - Auxiliary Training Service. The image, supplied by journalist/biker Prosper Keating, after hearing of Elizabeth's motorcycling, sourced the negative and supplied it to the Queen, who replied in her own handwriting that she was grateful she could show her grandchildren that she was 'once cool'.

With the uncropped photo from 'The Motor Cycle' in 1941 there was no mention of Princess Elizabeth, but readers recognised the face.

So, now I see HRH Queen Elizabeth as cool too. Portrait photography always interests me and so here is a Cecil Beaton portrait of Princess Elizabeth.

Now I have connected her with motorcycling and portrait photography I can see through the wall to wall red, white and blue bunting of the previous weeks Diamond jubilee and enjoy a more rounded impression of HRH Queen Elizabeth.

Still not a Royalist, just enjoy motorcycles, portrait photography and seeing the human being behind the image.