petesfabulousbermudaadventure

Petes Fabulous Bermuda Adventure

Task: June 15 - July 6 2007 = Go to Bermuda and compete in the RISR (Round the Island British Seagull outboard motorboat Race); survive the 'perils' of the Bermuda Triangle; and maybe do a bit of diving, fishing and the touristy thing before and afterwards.

"All care and no responsibility". All statements in this 'Blog' may or may not necessarily be true and opinions are not necessarily representative of the author. Any slander, characters or references thereof or thereto might be fictitional etc etc etc and could have a certain bearing from the amount of rum drunk at the time. No animals were hurt in the writting of this document.

The author reserves the right to change the content constantly and or randomly.

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Enjoy.

Happy to report that I am alive and well in Bermuda.

Why the lengthy report on travelling to Bermuda at the start of this epic tale? Well, the concept of getting to Bermuda was the biggest personal hurdle: "How the blimmin heck does one get to Bermuda ... from New Zealand?????"

In the end travel was all very straight forward and not in the least boring ...........

The 18 hour trip from Auckland to JFK with Tahitinui airlines was'nt too bad at all. Air Tahitinui has by far, the most Gorgeous Hostesses with the cutest french accents of any airline. Heck even the guys were good looking! I got a window seat with a spare seat next to me. The stop at Tahiti for an hour was cruel and hot after leaving Wellington in a 10 C southerly. The transit lounge in Tahiti is an open air burre(y) with only 3 dirty toilets and about 150 travellers. I kind of regretted not just stopping right there and then and spending three weeks in Tahiti instead. I spoke to a guy who got on the plane bound for JFK with a pair of flippers and he had got sea sick, but seen manta rays and all kind of interesting stuff when he had been diving there.

Air Tahitinui and my plane for the 18 hour trip to JFK

Desperate to load up my 'pump' water supplies for the Tahiti to JFK leg, I bought some bottled water from a vendor in the transit lounge. International language and currency barriers were resolved with me cracking into my stash of US dollars. However, my change was a curious mix of US dollars and Tahitian coins that didn't seem that Kosha to me.

During the flight to JFK, I was a bit miffed that any attempt to try and get de-jet lagged and see the top half of Mexico, the Rio Grande River, Houston and the Mississipi river and any other interesting things that might be spotted from 38 000 feet were thwarted by all the window shades remaining left down. Even though I had a window seat, just bringing up the shutter an inch bathed the entire aircraft in so much light that it was like somebody had put a spot light on. So I had to sulk in the dark and nap the best I could.

The queues for customs at JFK were outrageously long and the wait took the best part of an hour. But 5 minutes after we started queuing about 3 or 4 other aircraft arrived and those poor devils behind me would be waiting twice as long as me.

Nevermind, I survived and had no problems getting through customs formalities: "What are you going to be doing in USA sir?" ... " --- Ahhhhh nothing. I am out of here first thing in the morning on the flight for Bermuda" ............."Well Sir, you have a good day" then I picked up my bags and walked into USA proper as a free tourist.

I had hoped to walk the 1/2 mile from the airport to the hotel, but that was never going to happen. Firstly there are noooo footpaths. Secondly I didn't know where to go and thirdly with a dive bag and an ex-navy ammunition bag on a trolley and walking ... well I would have been shot on sight as some sort of low tech terrorist threat.

The problem was solved when I talked to the taxi dispatcher, explaining my predicament and he said not a problem. Even so I gave the taxi driver a tip for such a short trip.

I spent the evening walking the streets around the neighbourhood adjacent the hotel. I ended up at a pizza place. Their pizzas were ginormous and when I asked if that was the only size they had coz I couldn't possibly eat a whole one of those .... the guy said in his best New York Bronx accent that "hey I can make you one" and he did .... a custom made vegetarian pizza with anchovies right there and then, starting from rolling out the fresh doh.

Sensational service and I thought that New Yorkers were famously rude!

New York New York, I was there

The walk home was interesting as the late evening light made for a great photo essay of New York fire hydrants with my digital camera. Every one was a different colour shape and in various stages of rust. My body profile with cargo pockets bulging with oddments like cameras and wallets had the residents of the predominantly black neighbourhood acting kind of edgy - I suspect that they were thinking: that guy is 'packing' - just what we don't know. But best keep well clear.

Sure the kids listen to street music and talk the rap talk, but when I encountered a version of Mr "T" and his 'hoe' they kept as far away to the other side of the footpath from me as they possibly could when we passed. I believe I defused the situation with a raising of the eyebrows and a reasuring "gidday" - well that is what Crocodile Dundee would have done. I guess a stranger taking photos of fire hydrants in New York suburbia, is at best to be most likely a fairly dodgy and/or completely crazy and most certainly 'Strange' human being and probably should be avoided.

Back at the Hotel the concierge suggested that it would be best to catch the 0430 shuttle to the airport the next morning. That way it would make 'check in' for the 0730 take off to Bermuda with enough time to do it comfortably. Just Great - the sleep deprived one gets to wake up at 0400 hours.

Early wake up was assisted by a complimentary (pre-recorded wake up call) and the arranged shuttle took me to the airport - easy as pie. Just as well too because there were at least 8 terminals for leaving aircraft and I wouldn't have known which one to go to. Initially it seemed like I was there way too early, but the queues for check in were long. But in the end formalities were completed by 0530. No chance of getting any duty free booze though, because they didn't open till 0700 which was boarding call.

Fantastic flight to Bermuda - I was upgraded to Business class with a window seat and sat up at the front of the aircraft like Lord Muck himself ..... and I got to see the most calmest - scary mirror calm ocean in all my life - Toto .... we aren't in the Southern Ocean anymore!!! Dive survey Report reads: NO wind and NO swell from 36 000 ft !!!!

The initial forecast from 36 000 ft indicated that rough Bermuda sea conditions probably weren't going to be much of a problem

Bermuda customs were ferocious and have to be worse than (New Zealand) West coast sandflies - they stung me for $22 bucks duty on the free British Seagull outboard propellors that I brought from John Crighton and Ross Leger and a cruddy team NZ tee shirt and a cap that Alison insisted that I take - which I had to declare.

I was cool with that, but just before I made it through to freedom on Bermuda soil, I got special attention from an excitable customs man. First thing he did was open up my bags with difficulty because I had cable tied them. Then he inspected the props and wasn't entirely happy at all. Then he confiscated my paua shells for possible CITES infringements (yeah right). Things were going fine and dandy at that point and then he came across the $20 sale Team New Zealand tee shirt complete in its original wrapping with original price tag = $120 which was what I had explained was my very very generous market value estimate for everything that I had to declare: props, hat and tee shirt.

My explanation was that I had got it on a sale a year ago, did I look like the sort of person that would buy a $120 tee shirt in the first place, There was no way that I had any receipts and he would just have to "trust me". I was rather lucky they didn't hit me with another $22 bucks" or arrest me for being a nuisance.

The customs man was going to let things pass but needed a phone number for the person whom I would be staying at (Bruce Lorhan). I didn't know it. So he resolved to come with me and get it off Bruce directly who I said was probably waiting outside. Since my detainment I was the last to come out of customs and ..... there was nobody there. The customs man looked at the comletely dodgy seagull parts smuggler, shook his head and left after he said "what are you going to do now?" .... "I don't know .... guess I will try and find Bruce" ... [to myself-you don't have his phone number do you?].

Just after the customs man retreated to the safety of Customs land and out of sight, Bruce bowled up and wisked me off to Swizzlers Inn - their motto is "Swizzle Inn - Swagger out". It was hot. I was bothered by the run in with the Customs man and the first jug of Swizzlers signature cocktail: a deadly mix of rum, ginger ale and fruit juice with ice slid down frighteningly fast. When they asked if I wanted another one to go with the Ceasar salad that I had ordered for lunch I said yep! Just as the second jug arrived, the first one kicked in and I had an "oooops" moment. It was hotter, sunnyier and muggier than I expected and now I was half cut from just one jug of swizzler and already looking down the barrel of a second.

I asked Bruce if he wanted to share the second jug of the deadly brew and being a local and wise to the perils of jugs of swizzler he naturally replied "nah". The second jug of swizzler went down a bit slower than the first, but pleasantly down it went.

Richard Amos rebuilds his two man RISR [Round the

Island (Bermuda) Race] racer. Quietly pleased that his

Collegues in the Customs Department have been doing their job

Then we went to Bruces mansion in the forest, visited Richard Amos who was epoxying a quarter deck onto his seagull racer.Then we visited Mill Creek (Mill Creek Yacht Club = MCYC) the fabled epicenter of Bermuda seagull racing [well not actually - seagull racers are spread through out the Island]. There was quite a hive of activity going on there with Charlie Brown, Charles Large, Brian Lightbourne and a few other characters there fine tuning motors and putting final touches to race boats. Then it was on to visit Martine who is the race organiser.

Charles Large another international representative takes a break

To ponder the meaning of life, the universe ... and seagull racing

Mills Creek - arguably [and seagull racers do like to argue] the epicenter of seagull racing in Bermuda as New Zealanders know it. You are not allowed trailers in Bermuda and have to pay over $100B a shot each way for a hauler to get your boat too or from the water. So unless there is a hurricane on the way, boats get to stay in creeks ... if they are lucky.

At this stage feeling hot and bothered from the heat, humidity and Customs man it seemed like a good idea to go for a swim from Martines' wharf. So I leapt into the crystal blue waters of Atlantic Bermuda and it was hot - 23 C and salty. But I felt a little better for it all after having 'tried the waters'. [Salty - it was considerably more salty than the Pacific ocean. There, in swimming trunks I can hover on the surface of the water like an aligator and submerge by expelling a very small amount of air. In the Atlantic around Bermuda I had 1-2 kg buoyancy and even at 10-15 feet depth, I had to hang onto a hard piece of coral to stop myself bobbing back to the surface like a cork. All rather extraordinary and a consequence of an ocean gyre associated with the gulf stream]

Next it was back into Hamilton City, the center of Bermuda to buy some groceries for a dinner party. MAN oh MAN is stuff ever expensive in Bermuda - Hostile is putting it mildly.

The evening was a very pleasant fish barbeque on Bruces back lawn. The Bermuda evenings are very warm and very comfortable apart from a cacophony of tiny whistling tree frogs that make a racket far louder than can be credited for their size. The Bermudians reckon that the frogs are the sound of their home and they feel homesick for it when they are over seas ... Oh Kay.

Then the rest of the afternoon was spent on the verandah of Doug and Kims place sipping wines and hearing tales and perils encountered on the average around the island race. Sensational adventures seem to be had by these legendary racers. The best race strategy advice was that the race is so long and it is so hot, that there is no need bothering to try and drink water ... it will just make you feel bloated. Best drink rum with lots of ice to try and keep cool in the searing sun and giant waves while you negotiate a maze of deadly coral and rock heads. Several bottles of wine later that was starting to make infinite sense but by then it was almost night time and time to go home.

The view from Kim and Lobsters place was very 'Burmuda' and finally the reality of actually having made it all the way from New Zealand to Bermuda was sinking in.

At some stage during the afternoon (somewhere between the 2nd and 4th bottle of wine) a Bermuda seagull racing boat on sea trials cut across the horizon in magestic fashion and at a good clip. I was impressed and the competition was looking fierce ("5 sport motor" - the new generation seagull name only 6 hp version was the call). However some time later 3rd - 5th bottle of wine, the boat was seen coming back being towed by a launch. It was a sobering sight and reminder that to finish first, first you must finish. There was no sign of the skipper in the towed boat, so one can only assume he was in the cabin of the towing boat drowning his sorrows.

The road speed limit in Bermuda is only 35 km, but the roads are narrow (about average for Wellington). They drive on the left, but there are kids on motor scooters going flat out and Americans in cars (the Bermuda version of German drivers in New Zealand - with a tendancy to drive on the wrong side of the road). On the way home we came across the inevitable result of this hazardous mix where a car on the wrong side of the road had polaxed a young kid who was lying in the middle of the road being attended by Police and emergency services.

So that was a sobering end to what had otherwise been a very pleasant Sunday.

Day Three - hunting turtles and chopping up wood

I spent the morning helping Tim rip up some 8x 2's for some fence railing repairs. The wood was sodden wet and tanalised to death. I reckon we must have been cutting back a bit on the tanilising back in New Zealand because this stuff had been supersized when it came to tanalizing. The buzzing down went fairly well, but the light weight table saw was no match for ripping that wet timber. But we got things done just before the heat of the day really kicked in.

Tim contemplates the significance of helicopter surveillence, getting wild Kiwis to help him around dangerous machinery and yet another beautiful day in Paradise.

While we were engaged in the wood ripping, a helicopter flew over twice. Now that is an odd thing in Bermuda since private planes are all but regulated out of existence (later in the evening a microlight cesna replica flew over and that is about the only private plane on the island). The government tried to legislate that plane out of existence by banning the sale of 'AV' gas (not looking good for top fueling the seagull race motor - unless of course we use rum or something like that). But of course, the microlight uses regular fuel.

So a helicopter buzzing around was strange indeed for these parts. I told Tim that back in New Zealand, police use helicopters like that for busting Marijuana growers. Well either that or it was the customs men searching the island for the illegal paua shell smuggler that had arrived two days ago. Tim thought that it was probably far more sinister than that - he reckoned that they were looking for unauthorised creativity.

Anyhow, our task was soon finished and any evidence of creative activity tidied nicely away. So we visited Richard Amos to see how his race boat building progress was getting on. When we met him at about 11:30 it seemed that everybody had been making fine progress with their projects that morning ... and since it was getting hot ..... and since well, the sun was over the yard arm .... well what would a Bermudian do? I barely managed to escape several hours later after drinking too many rum and cokes. But it was very very pleasant talking boat building and seeing a calenders worth of Richard Amos' fine RISR seagull race paintings. Some were of historical significance because they depicted local features which had been lost to hurricanes.

I met a Kiwi (a self confessed "Westie" Aucklander and proud of it) canvas maker who had come around to Bruces to measure up a cover for his race boat - you can never have enough clamps when you are boat building.

The little triangle on the marker pole has the silhouette of a turtle on it and sure enough I was to see my first Bermuda turtle not

20 metres behind the point.

Then Bruce took me down to where we had stashed the kayak and I went for an evening paddle looking for turtles. I eventually caught a glimpse of one not more than 20 m from a red edged sign with a silhouette of a turtle on it (I guess that was international for "beware of turtles"). I also saw a spotted eagle ray. Paddling in Bermuda is rather pleasant but a trifle hot - I would forget about toting too much gear and trying to keep your camera dry - just do an eskimo roll about every 10 minutes to keep cool.

Then I managed to cycle the hazardous roads back to Bruces place without getting too lost or disorientated. However while I was semi-disorientated and lost at one stage, a gentleman asked if he could help (just as I discovered that I was almost at Bruces already). It turned out that he was a keen strip plank kayak builder and was in the process of building an inlaid strip deck for a Moth class dinghy. Seems like Bermudians are a lot like me. I am starting to feel right at home here.

The evening was spent doing a bit of displacement activity - preparing seagull race motors for start up.

The prognosis from our reptilian moto-mechanix was "She'll need a bit of work"

Tea with seagull parts on the side. Captain Cruel's verdict - she's screwed, we need an emergency visit to Seagull outboard motor guru, Brian Lightbourne to either work miracles or administer last rights

Day 4 - Bermuda Triangles and Kayaking

Day 5 - Diving with Luciano and sign up

Diving in Bermuda - well I had no expectations, but it was pretty good. Clear water, shallow @ 8 m and warm at 25 C. Not exactly a million schooling fish, but they were there in a good variety. Surprisingly my mask, but not my camera fogged up on the first dive. Second dive, the camera fogged up, but not the mask. Considering there wasn't much difference between the air and sea temperatures and it was hot, I would'nt have thought that fogging up was ever going to be an issue. But there you go. Luciano is a diving instructor, so you can't say that the guy from New Zealand wasn't being looked after.

The first wreck we dived on was the L'Herminie. In New Zealand we didn't have that many warships turn up and if they did, they were fairly carefull. Any canons that were thrown over were to lighten loads and were soon recovered. Chances of seeing a cannon underwater in New Zealand are in 'round' = zero figures. Well there were about 60 big cannon strewn about the wreck site of L'Herminie. So being able to see a cannon let alone lots, would have ot rate pretty coool on the coolness scale for me.

The second site that we looked at was the Constellation. This is the view through the clear waters to the wreck about 25 ft below. You could say the viz was pretty good.

This is the (suprisingly) old (looking) pirate sort of hovering over a pile of ancient cement. The cargo would be a bitter sweet sight for the hard drinking Bermudians - There were hundreds of glass bottles strewn about the place, most were broken and some were inextricably set in some burst cement bags - that was the bitter tragedy. The sweet was that apparenly there were hundreds of bottles of whiskey, but the Bermudians were able to 'salvage' most of them. [I bet that would have made the famous "Whiskey Galore" incident look like a kids tea party?

What do you do with a canon when you have finished with it? - just kick it over the fort

A canon bollard?

It later transpired that Bermuda is loaded with canons - they are everywhere and they aren't too particular about what they do with them ... almost like a trend is developing towards figuring out 101 uses for old canons?

I put a pile of my underwater shots taken with my Samsung digi wogi woo camera in an underwater housing on a piccassa file. A bit of post photography digital editing and I reckon half of the photos arn't half bad:

Petes Bermuda underwater photos

While the pirate was swanning around diving in paradise, the great Captain Cruel was working his butt off to get the good ship and New Zealand representative racing boat: "Legless" to the water. Apparently the move from Bruces back yard to the water involved spectacular use of giant cranes, exhorbitant amounts of money and near disasters. But the boat made it safely to Mill Creek.

Here is the great Captain Cruel aryldited to the helm. While the "Legless" glides through the water nicely and the motor was actually going, the recently resurected motor wasn't exactly on song. Best estimates for the circumnavigation at the sort of speeds we were doing during early trials would put the circumnavigation at somewhere near the 9 - 10 hour range on a good day. At conservative drinking estimates ....... that could be a near leathal dose and some more motor work and tweaking will be needed in the few short days left to the race start.

Roll out the old adages "to finish first, first you must finish" and "sometimes the race to the start line is the hardest". No pressure still plenty of time? - yeah right!

These Bermudans take their Seagull racing seriously - the vanity investment number plate reads SEAGAL .... and I don't think it belongs to 'Dan'

The Robin Hood - the scene of sign up. I had hoped to 'kick on' but was tired from diving and while I was out boating on the Bermuda Triangle I had hooked up a fine 'name brand' bonita fish which I wanted to have for dinner. Baked with banana, onion, tomato with wine and butter = absolutely delicimo. In New Zealand we call our skip jack tuna "Bonito" so a lot of marine biologists choke with interest when you say you "caught a Bonito just the other day" - but I now know first hand that they are quite a different fish altogether (especially since I have tasted the difference).

Sign up was a noisey affair with as many as 80 excited seagull racers in attendance. The organisers had considerable trouble briefing the feisty crowd which were in very high spirits (literally and figuratively) on the race. I expect more than a reasonable amount of anarchy and chaos on race day.

There seems to be good number of international entries for this years race. Representing New Zealand will be Jim Marr and myself plus an ex-patriot New Zealander (who apparently has access to tv coverage of the All Blacks game prior to race start - note to self: must re-aquaint myself with that man). Then there is Charles Large from England and a crew from Nova Scotia/Canada. There may well be more.

Captain Cruel signs us up for the race.

Bermuda is the head quarters for a large number of insurers, assurers and reinsurers (reinsuring sounds a bit like my disposition towards over subscribed myself with life insurance policies and then starting to worry that my wife might be wanting to kill me for no particular reason) ... so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by the number of liability waivers on the entry form. Considering the type of person who would contemplate racing around the best part of the Bermuda triangle in an open dinghy with a vintage outboard motor (which if you look at it is pretty much staring death in the face and spitting in its eye) I guess a few liabiltiy clauses wouldn't be a bad thing. Like the others I just ignored the 'small print' and signed anyway.

So the equation is coming together. I am in Bermuda, I am signed up for the race, we have a boat that floats and a dodgy outboard motor (no need for panic - there is still tonnes of time to sort that out) now all we have to do is get an enormous amount of ice and sustaining refreshments and turn up to the start line on (while hoping for a fine weather) Saturday - exciting times.

Day 6 - the 'points' of seagull racing

After yesterdays dissa-POINTING performance of our race motor our strategy was to first check the POINTS, re-check the carb and then do some trials with different props and maybe even motors.

Not having set the points on a seagull motor in my life and falsely assuming that most 'modern' seagull motors had electronic ignition, I really have no experience in setting seagull outboard motor points. Fortunately moments before I left New Zealand, Ross Leger gave me a demonstration on the 'dark art' of how one sets the points on a 102 model - Bruce's intended race motor.

So, never having done it before, I confidently launched into setting the points on a motor 'Lobster' had given me to race prep. Ripping the fly wheel cover off went rather easily and I had no problems cleaning up the face of the points with a piece of cardboard. Things were going swimmingly. But when I tried to use the adjusting screw in the conventional manner the adjustment screw seemed to be seized - now that wasn't in the manual. What to do? The whole exercise was becoming POINTLESS. Being a resourcefull kiwi I adjusted the points the best I could anyway and tested the lead - I got electrocuted (well a mild shock) - so something must be going right?

Just to be sure, I got Bruce to 'look for a spark' while I pulled the motor over- Bruce held onto the lead and got shocked too. Then he refused to participate in any more confirmation of spark examinations - the sook! Miraculously, the motor fired up on the second pull so I regard that as something of a points setting success. [All these electocutions actually POINTS to a fault in the spark plug lead that probably needs some attention]

I did the same with our race motor (the only hiccup this time was that there was no adjustment screw at all - so I just did the best I could) and sea trials later in the day gave us a 20% increase in speed. So that was progress. However at our new 'Best speed' we estimate (with complete blind optimism: no problems, no delays, perfect conditions) our race time to be within the 7 something hour mark.

I think that is probably OK, but Captain Cruel who usually does the race in 3 hours with a very long, narrow and tippy 'flea' hull powered by a modern Italian 'sport'seagull' is apalled at the prospect of 7 plus l.. o.. n.. g hours and is still seriously considering abandoning the traditional seagull motor and classic dighy (even though the 'Legless' is surely a boat fit for any admiral) for a sport seagull and flea hull.

After solid rain overnight ['tank rain' which is enough to put a smile on a Bermudian face since the only water they get comes from roof run off so rain is good and means that you will have water to drink] race day is looking like it might be a scorcher with light 10 kt winds, sun and 1 ft waves - bring it on.

RACE DAY

The race course and instructions are basically complete a circumnavigation of the nation of Bermuda in an anticlockwise direction with a little dip into the great sound (out of respect for the days of when the race started outside a point near 'Two Rock Passage'). For the nautically challenged and those afraid of the Bermuda Triangle phenomena "KEEP THE LAND TO YOUR LEFT AND THE SEAMONSTERS TO YOUR RIGHT" - and no sneaking under ANY bridges!!

When I was doing the touristy thing at the marine museum at the Docks I came across this curious quote which maybe sums up the philosophy of British Seagull racing: "A man who went to sea for pleasure would be likely to go to hell for a pastime." - Woodes Rogers, Governor of the Bahamas 1718-1720

Race strategy was to prepare the boat on Friday, Motor accross the harbour to spend a quiet evening at Kim and Lobsters over in Sommerset. That way all we had to do was literally fall out of bed at a reasonable hour, into the boat and motor for 15 minutes to the start line at Sandy Bay Yacht Club.

It was quite the perfect plan - except that we fell under the spell of Lobster, the perfect gentleman host who first plied us with fine wines then a fine barbeque tea [New Zealand for 'dinner'] washed down with more fine wines. It was a tired Pirate that crawled to bed at 0200 on race day. But Lobster had given me an insight into the deep roots that the native cedar tree has on the Bermudan Soul and how an around the island dinghy boat race using vintage motors is such a natural thing for a Bermudian to want to do [They can let their hair down and just have some plain old fashioned fun, then there is the fundamental challenge of it all and an element of innovation for modifying hulls and engines and the comraderie and competition between old friends]

Wished on our way, first thing in the morning, with a hearty breakfast of kippers, bacon and scambled eggs breakfast cooked by the indefatiguable Lobster, we headed to the start line. Cellebrating the momentous day captain cruel has an early morning beer.

Not entirely happy with our pre-race speed we caught up to Bert and beat him to the start line. Things were looking good except that sandbagging Bert must have been on half throttle because not long after the start he did a 'horizon job on us'. Apart from breakdowns we were surprisingly evenly matched with Charlie Brown and Channel in the boat obscured in the foreground. But on the day Charlie Brown and Channel took out first place in the traditional dinghy class, leaving us a respectfull distant second and about 12 minutes off the pace.

Oddly, the next day as we motored across the Great Sound, our motor coughed out something that had been bothering it. After a cloud of blue smoke settled,for the first time the motor would run at full throttle and all of a sudden we were motoring half a knot faster. If only we had done that on the day, we might have won! Well .... there is always next time.

There was a movie camera from a local station running an article on the race for the local tourist channel. Captain Cruel is a natural movie star and waxed lyrical in front of the camera. I was interviewed, but was reduced to a jibbering idiot and returned a performance worse than the local television news reader who I have been roundly critising every time he is on the TV. Being infront of a camera is actually much harder than one would imagine and hats off to the movie stars and news readers. I am only hoping that my contribution remains on the cutting room floor.

All the glamour TV interviews interupted our Americas cup 'timed run' for the start and we discretely followed the dinghy boat fleet out of Sandy Bay just after 0830 sharp. Part of our 'pour' start might be attributed to the great Captain Cruel mistaking the waving of the giant green Heineken Start Flag .... as the "five minute gun" - we are not sailing boats toto! - but at that unseasonably early hour and after a hard night with Kim and Lobster and being accidentally cooked by their 'air conditioner' still set on heat mode from last winter ... the 5 minute gun theory sort of made sense ..... doh!

Bermuda waters are really, really clear and we relied on the local knowlege and skills of the great Captain Cruel to thread our way through around the reef and rock strewn shore (keeping the island to the left). Some reefs that we went over looked altoghether too shallow, but we never touched bottom and the only casualties were two of Captain Cruels favourite lures that snagged on the rocks and got 'pinged'

The great Captain Cruel points out landmarks as we passed round the island. On top of being quite possibly the greatest nautical challenge in the universe: Navigating an open dinghy in open water around an entire nation using a vintage motor .... the RISR is a sensational opportunity to view the entire coastline from 'close quarters'. That is an experience that only a very few Bermudians (apart from seagull racers) have had.

Trouble on the high seas. Considering the lack of race preparation that our race motor had (all tuning efforts were almost entirely devoted to trying to make it run for the first time in a long while) we had a remarkably trouble free run. The only 'issues' that we had were a fuel tank mounting bracket bolt shook itself loose. The great Captain cruel was able to make a jury repair using a stainless steel tuna lure leader, a pair of pliers and some cedar wedges - without even throttling the motor back.

Indeed of the 40 starters, there were only 5 retirements due to motor problems or cheating [some enterprising devils were observed sneaking under one of the many bridges that link up the 'isles' of Bermuda which would have saved a lot of distance and the roughest of the up wind leg along the North Shore]. Suspicions were cast on some of the malfunctions with possible self-sabotage by crew to avoid the rough-ish conditions forecast to be running on the North Shore later on race day.

Our only major engine problems happened after we were half way through the race having negotiated the much lauded "exposed" 'South side' of the island. Our run had been a most comfortable down wind sleigh ride, surfing on every other wave with an occasional protest from the motor over-reving when the prop came out of the water as we caught waves. Then as we were passing the blinding sand shallows adjacent the airport ..... the motor just coughed and stopped.

I deployed the anchor while Captain Cruel changed the spark plug. I thought that maybe we should be looking primarily at the points. However, a tentative pull of the starter cord after the sparkplug had been changed resulted with the motor 'ting, ting, tinging' merrily and us once more on our way. Thinking about it, we had intended to put a new spark plug in for race day, but neither of us could recall actually getting around to doing it. The oversight saw the end of what had been a remarkably close battle with Charlie Brown and Channel as we made gains on their slender lead at times by going wide and surfing the 1m (3 ft) swells on the 'outside'.

That 'going wide' strategy had paid off doubly by reducing their lead and putting us in prime fishing grounds. However, fishing on the day was slow and I was only able to catch a nice Amberjack and a 'Never bite' blue runner on the South Shore leg of the race. Coupled with a little mackerel tuna that we caught on the North Shore, we were able to take a share of the most fish caught prize. So the putter around the island at slow speeds with the scenary and the fishing made for a pretty good day out on the water.

Our fishing efforts weren't quite up to those depicted by this British Seagull outboard motor brochure, but were enough to win us a share in the prize for most fish caught during the race

Serious support boats were strategically placed around the course so despite my wimpy insurance policy company who incidentally refused to provide any cover on 'Race day' [because of the perceived dangers of British Seagull outboard motor racing within the Bermuda Triangle ... yeah right!] .... safety was NEVER an issue. Martin had started the race as a racer in a dinghy but his seagull outboard motor had dramatically refused to run and he retired early much to his crews delight in the face of a choppy ride along North Shore - but not to be outdone, Martin and crew followed the race in their fishing boat.

The roughest part of the race came after rounding the Narrows at the North of St Georges Island which lead to an upwind punch along the north shore. It was splashy stuff and my camera had fogging and turning on 'issues'. It was too splashy to take the camera out of its housing and so this photo of St Catherines Fort was the last race photo I took.

Photo by Stephanie

The good ship 'Legless' with primary sightseer, fish catcher, tactician and drinks dispenser Pirate Pete rehydrating? with a mix of Pimms, limes and lemonade while Captain aryldite ... I mean Captain Cruel keeps us on the straight and narrow or there abouts.

This is a shot of Brian lightbourne as he passed us on the inside near the 'Oil Docks'. True to seagullian etiquette as described in the seagull outboard motor manual, he heroically stands up in the rough seas cutting a fine figure of seamanship with his seagull motor working perfectly .. you would have to be happy with that.

Before long we rounded the Docks and it was a quick and smooth run to the finish at Sandy Bay. I got a little bit teary eyed at about this stage: either from suntan lotion in the eye or the thought that we were actually bloody well going to make it. Just looking at the egg whizz like piece of machinery clamped on the transom, still ting, ting tinging away despite high seas and spray flying everywhere, it seemed like we had defied the odds, gods and sods to complete something of a remarkable achievement.

Our finish strategy was to make at least 3 victory laps of the finish line to express the pure joy of having finished the race and to show off the bunting that we had managed to erect just before we got to the Dockyards turning point. Miraculously it was still up so a little 'air time' was in order. However as we crossed the finishing line and as the Great Captain Cruel throttled back, simultaneously, the motor stalled and the Bermuda flag staff fell overboard.

Captain Cruel suggested that I dive in the water, which seemed like a good idea at the time, so I did (immediately loosing my sun glasses) but retrieving the burgee, swimming it back over the line: Seagull racers leave nothing behind!

The race sponsors representative from Heineken is 'taken for a ride' by the Great Captain Cruel in the good ship Legless

Pre-race email from Pete's Brother:

"> Good luck with the big race wear your lifejacket and don't

> get too pissed in the hot sun (don't worry I am only

> jealous).

>

> Cheers Steve".

Well the pirate didn't wear a lifejacket (Note kiddies: a lifejacket was carried on board) and got pissed in the hot sun despite best intentions [and through no fault from Bruce]. However, the pirate did managed to finish the race, wander along the hot Sandy Bay shore and congratulate some race finishers before puking and ending up shivering (in 28 C????) under a tree. A full recovery was achieved by 10 pm in the cool of the evening (but after the lamentable pirate missed out on being sociable at the prize giving). Maybe next time the pirate might participate more fully in proceedings?

Diagnosis - obviously too much booze and not enough water coupled with a series of late nights and a thorough pre-race cooking by Lobsters 'air conditioner' on heat mode followed by a long hot day in the hot sun equals a touch of Heatstroke. And I had been warned about the possibility too. I guess you can't help some people.

If you can't run with de 'Big Dogs' then just stay on de porch. Pirate Pete or should that be 'Pete de wimp' maybe should have just stayed on the porch. [PS coincidentally this is a New Zealand border collie - sheep dog .... retired]

But at the end of the day we had done it! circumnavigated Bermuda in a classic wooden dinghy powered by an ancient vintage seagull motor.

Absolutely sensational scenary and the grandest adventure.

Our efforts with the 'bunting flying' resulted with us being awarded the Chummy memorial cup for best dressed vessel.

So more than happy with that

Maybe this movie says it all?? -

Look TV - British Seagull racing Bermuda

The End

The good ship "Legless" back in Mills Creek home port after the huge RISR adventure

The race motor ran solidly for something like 12 hours to get to the start line, do the race and go sight seeing most of Sunday on the way home. Sensational effort for a venerable old machine

A close up of the tank bracket Jury Rig that Great Captain Cruel managed to do with the motor operating at near full throttle .. in a sea way .. with minimal tools and materials .. AND with that whizzy around fly wheel only inches from his fingers: Horatio Hornblower himself would be impressed by that effort.

All that extra salty water is hard on the gear. Note the salt deposit adjacent the water outlet

Bermuda weather (contrary to my experience) is not all sweetness and light. 10 days after the race the South Shore actually cut up a bit jobbley and wouldn't have been quite as comfortable as what we experienced on race day

Above: the Controversial team Bermuda in their converted 505 sailing hull were clearly ahead at this point

Photo by Stephanie

Team Canada/Nova Scotia were hot on the heels

Photo by Stephanie

The story goes that a dead heat finish was looming between teams Bermuda and team Canada both racing similar converted 505 hulls powered with sport motors. In order to facilitate a literal win by a nose, the crewman on Team Bermuda climbed precariously onto the tip of the bow of his boat and eventually fell off the boat before the finish line. Miraculously he wasn't cut up by the whizzing propellor blade and a record man overboard drill was executed in smart order with exemplary seamanship almost (but not quite) salvaging a victory. However, the Team Bermuda crewman was convinced that his skipper had tried to run him over during the rescue and became quite excitable. The Team Bermuda captain was convinced the crewman had cost him the race and apparently once they got back to shore had to resort to dunking the crewmans head underwater (several times) in an effort to cool things down.

Now that might sound a bit 'out of order' and definately qualifies as 'pour behaviour' but apparently that sort of thing is part of a long standing Bermuda tradition: It transpires that Bermuda had its very own version of the Salem Witch hunt and almost every day I cycled past the actual site of the 'Ducking stool'. There, sadly, 'witchy' ladies were strapped to a dunking stool and submerged till they drowned (if they weren't a witch) or alternatively if they somehow managed to survive the dunking, later in the day when they dried out - they were burned as a witch.

Not much of a choice in my book.

Perhaps as a consequence? to this day, no cremations are carried out on Bermuda - regular burials only!

Anyhow, the race matter will apparently be put to 'mediation' at a special calling to order of the Sacred Church of Minton where the right Honourable Bruce Lorhan (aka Captain Cruel) will preside. The Skipper/crewman attempted dunking/running over issue is likely to be resolved with lots of Rum. The final placings of Team Canada vs Team Bermuda are likely to stand especially since Bruce is part Canadian and is naturally going to rule in the Canadians favour.

Maybe the only fair resolution will be the call for a re-match next year?

Photo by Stephanie

Photo by Stephanie

Bailing for their lives - proof that a frightened man with a bucket is better than any bilge pump

Chicken Run caught on a Sunday outing the day after the race

Photo by Stephanie

Photo by Stephanie

Despite all the salt, launch ramps and rocks near the Bermuda shoreline were extremely slippery - so it was always fun to watch an attempted slippery ramp launch. Fortunately this boat was launched without too much drama

Photo by Stephanie

Sunday the day after the race

With my sorry and self-induced early curtailing of Saturday nights post race festivities, Sunday morning saw me fighting fit and in remarkably good shape. Lobster and Kim, ever the perfect hosts had performed the customary of changing the water' on the salt cod 'at least three times' during the previous evening. On Sunday morning they prepared a traditional Bermuda Codfish breakfast of boiled de-salted Cod, banana, Avocado, butter sauce and tomato sauce (because we couldn't settle on just one) with boiled potatoes with sweet juicy name brand Bermuda onion.

The Bermuda Sunday Codfish breakfast is a delightful way to mop up the last of Saturday nights excesses and fortify yourself for a days boating. I could get used to that and will have to have a go at re-creating something like a Codfish Breakfast back in New Zealand when I get home ... I just have to track down a source of salted Cod.

After Breakfast we went down to the Legless to tidy things up and prepare for sea. At 10 am the day was a complete scorcher with almost no wind. I was suffering from too much heat once again but was thankful that we did the race yesterday when at least there was a little bit of wind. I spared a thought for the cyclists competing that morning in the Bermuda National 60 mile road cycle championships (race start 0800 hrs). I imagine a more than few of the cyclists would have been completely roasted in the hot, breathless morning sun.

Before casting off, we made a quick trip into Sommerset village to get some extra fuel. I took the opportunity to have a quick dive to retrieve my sunglasses, lost as we crossed over the finish line the day before. Slipping into the languid Sunday morning waters adjacent the Sandy Bay Yacht Club pier I swam to where I thought we were when I had jumped over board. I said "what do you reckon, were we here?" - Bruce: "I don't know". Me: swim around to another position judging the finish line, reaction times on the day and a calculating a fair finishing trajectory: "How about here?" - Bruce: "I don't know, I can't even remember telling you to jump over the side" ....hmmmm.... Me: swim to one more even better guestimate position before starting searching; ask the obvious retorical question: "How about here" .... deep breath and dive down ..... and there on my first breath-hold dive of the day were my sunglasses nestled on the bottom in some sea-grass.

"See I didn't loose my sunglasses? I just stored them for the night".

Back at Lobsters floating dock, we threw the petrol on board the Legless and fired up the trusty old 102 British Seagull motor which started on the first pull and set off across the Great Sound to watch the 'Fitted Bermuda Class dinghy racing'.

The fitted class dinghies don't race too often these days, about once every 3 weeks. So the opportunity to seeing them in action wasn't looking too good despite my near 3 week stay. Fortunately for me there was an extraordinary race held the day after the Round the Island Seagull Race and we ting ting tinged our way over to be part of the spectator fleet.

Race start is all 4 boats aside the starting or 'Stake Boat'

The boats are lined 2 on each side, one behind the other. They start with the crew pulling their race boat forward along a rope draped beside the Stake boat. When they reach the end, the yachts fall off to Port or Starboard tack depending on which side of the boat they are on. The boats behind them follow. Now you don't see that sort of race start every day!

On this day, the Stake boat was an old Tug boat and a portside Stake boat start seemed to hold an advantage.

The Course was 3 upwind legs, 4 down wind legs

The top mark was another Stake boat positioned directly up wind. the 7 man, 14 foot long boats carry an enormous amount of sail and don't have alot of freeboard. 1 and sometimes 2 of the crew spend most of their time bailing furiously on the upwind legs. The spectator fleet closely followed the boats around the course and it was a great opportunity to see the action up close and personal. In the light winds, the good ship 'Legless' and our trusty Seagull outboard motor were just able to keep pace, so the yachts were travelling at a good 5 [GPS] knots.

Downwind and trucking

Once the boats got around the top mark, they hoisted huge spinnakers and considering the light winds on the day they scorched majestically back down wind.

No shenanighans today

A unique feature of the fitted dinghy class is that you don't have to finish the race with the same number of crew that you start with. There are legends of skippers ditching the entire crew to make the most of the downwind power to weight ratio opportunities. This strategy has its obvious flaws and outcomes (no bailers and you are going to sink). History has it that one sensational race was won with a sole skipper and his boat sinking underneath him just as he made the line .

Another rule is that you are not allowed to contact any part of another boat during racing. This is a fairly standard yacht racing rule, but in Bermuda fitted dinghy racing, this rule is extended to mean that spinaker poles can be thrown overboard perpendicular and directly infront of closely following boats. This makes it hard to steal too much wind and would make for some serious evasive manouvers at times.

However, the races on this day were all very tame with the leaders having a comfortable winning margin over their closest rivals. So we didn't see any yacht racing behaviour much out of the ordinary.

After a bit of gossiping with other boats, photo taking, swimming etc etc we headed back to Mills creek to unload our gear out of our boat and reflect on a what had been a sensational weekend on the water, before heading home for a quiet evening.

RISR RACE PRIZE DAY

Pete cashes in his race prize voucher

Graham Maddocks of Triangle Diving Triangle Diving generously sponsored a prize of two x two tank dive vouchers with his company opparating out of the Grotto Bay Beach Hotel.Coincidentally? by chance? good fortune? or tin pot luck? - Bruce and more particularly I ended up with the prize (awarded for best dressed boat). The awarding of the prize must have been subjective because an awful lot of race preparation had been put into some of the RISR boats in terms of paint jobs, graphics and TLC. But happy to win it and priveliged to go along with Graham for a dive at North Rock and the wreck "Cristobel' at the North Eastern corner of Bermuda.

Graham Maddocks was'chuffed'with his new 'camera table' fitted for the first time on my dive

This is the dive boat we went out on. It was comfortable, Graham is a great ambassador for diving tourism in Bermuda managing to keep a banter of interesting history, conservation, features and diving highlights in the area as we went to and from the dive sites. The crew were superb and us poor old divers hardly had to lift a finger - If I can convince the NIWA Chief Diver to get us Research Divers (me) treated half as well when I get back to New Zealand, work would be that much more pleasant.

My Diving Buddy was Dan Weber from Virginia USA. This was perhaps one of those Bermuda coincidences? Because just before I left for my adventure I joined the Divers Alert Network DAN Divers Alert Network mostly for the diving insurance that they offer, but also because of the DAN oxygen provider courses I have done and the interesting stuff that they do. So to have my dive buddy called DAN seemed very appropriate.

The diving was pretty shallow (@ 10 m) but the water was clear and warm and the coral and fish life at North Rock was pretty cool and my camera was working for a change. Dan took this photo of me hovering outside a 'swim through'

Purple fan coral and yellow brain coral = outrageous colour contrasts

This group of 'snapper/grouper take shelter under an overhang

The next dive was at the wreck Cristobal. Apparently it had run up on the coral and then been used for target practice by the military. I actually saw some mysterious looking wreckage that may well have been shells around the site and left them well alone. Unbelievably the water was even clearer out at the Cristobal but unfortunately that was where my camera ceased to function (as a result of a RISR seagull racing incident and a failure of the temporary sticking plaster repair) so you will just have to take my word for it.

We did see a female lobster with eggs sitting more or less out in the open under the bow. A mosaic cowfish (bit like a giant dappled New Zealand leatherjacket) heaps and heaps of little blue fishes, litlle blue fishes with yellow mouths and lots of wreckage. Not having my camera working meant that I missed out on a photo of me poking my head out of one of the portals in the stern section.

Top afternoon diving, thanks Graham, Triangle Diving and RISR.

Bermuda lighthouses

Doing the touristy thing I visited two of the main lighthouses in Bermuda. I took a bunch of funky photos? and made up a little website to save some space on this gonzo bulletin that is growing out of control. Click on the 'Bermuda lighthouses' link above and it will take you to even more photos.

This is 'Bimbo' Bruces' dog

A Dogs Breakfast

One fine morning about half way through my sensational adventure, it seemed like a good idea to fry up some bacon (since it was begining to get a bit long in the tooth) and some eggs for breakfast. Being a skilled metro-sexual male that I am it was no problem to fry up a storm and then we sat down to tuck into a good feed.

Half way through our 'Big Breakfast' Bruce asked, "did you wash the frying pan before you started cooking? .... because I gave it to Bimbo to 'lick clean' last night".

oooooohhhhh!!!!!!

Now .... that frying pan was very, very clean when I started and it may or may not have been wasjed prior to the mornings cook up. Neither of us could specifically remember. So far I am happy to report that there are no signs of having gone 'rabid', no indications of Pavo virus either, nor have I had any particular desires to go around marking my territory. So I am starting to think maybe, just maybe, I did wash that frying pan. At least I really, really hope I did.

Perhaps this is yet another example of the numerous and unexpected hazards one might encounter whilst in the Bermuda Triangle???

Big Day out Fishing

We made an early start and got to see a mill pond calm Mill Creek.

But we still weren't up early enough and probably missed out on a realistic opportunity to catch a yellowfin, wahoo or two.

Early fishing starts are problematic in Bermuda on account of having to navigate past all the shoaling and isolated coral heads. And believe me, you need light, good eyes and steady nerves for that. The only alternative would be to spend the night out on the ocean inorder to be ready for first light.

A short cut under Sommerset bridge

Negotiating what is possibly the smallest and oldest 'working'draw bridge in the world was achieved with inches to spare and marshalled by 'traffic' lights. The bridge has been operating for centuries enabling ready access for small-ish boats with masts into and out of the Great Sound.

Bruce rigs up the game rod

The Bermudian fishing strategy for the day was to catch a marlin on the way out ..... for bait! and then maybe stop after we had caught a yellow fin tuna each. They deemed this to be a fair and reasonable plan and were bitterly disappointed and apologetic when we were unable to achieve this.

However, I had a blast catching all manner of fish including a couple of black fin tuna (which are just about as good as a yellowfin and enough of a handful on my little green Alvey reel lined with 20 lb platypus nylon). I also caught a bunch of rainbow runner 'bait fish' which put up a good fight on my 'Trouble maker' = cheap Warehouse lightweight fly rod using a home made in New Zealand (Rob Stewart custom special) bathchain eyed fly.

Martin landed a good sized (whaler type) shark with appropriate drama and excitement.

So for me apart from the variation to the game plan, I had a jolly grand day out on the water fishing with buddies and you couldn't be more happy than that.

Talk about 'Blue water' fishing, 'out wide' the sea colour was amazingly intense

A fine black fin tuna that 'didn't get away'

NonSuch Island visit and Conservation in Bermuda

On any Sunday

Every Sunday starts with a Saturday night dinner party on Bruces 'Magical garden'. It is very pleasant sitting out in the open yarning the evening away accompanied by the myriad of whistling frogs. The only Bermuda triangle perils here is avoiding various flame related hazards, the occasional mosquito and an irate Al of et al. fame

After a fine Saturday evening the Sunday morning Bermuda Codfish breakfast is a great way to recover and fortify yourself for a day out on the water. I had a go at cooking up a Codfish breakfast which was politely received but even I have to concede that my butter sauce could have done with some extra work.

Martin put in the miles trying to find a name brand 'rock fish' grouper to show me. We didn't find one, but snorkelling the reefs was great fun and very scenic. Snorkelling is quite possible the best way to experience the underwater world of Bermuda

For most of the last dive I was shadowed (at a discrete distance) by a metre long name brand barracuda ... alot like this one photographed at the Bermuda Aquarium. I can tell you it was a bit unnerving having a 'toothy shadow' following you along in the water playing some sort of fishy game of 'who's afraid of the big bad wolf'. It was especially impressive seeing such a big fish just stop dead and just hover every time I lstopped to check on him.

I was particularly nervous because of the name brand cave diver fin straps I have. They used to have some matt black cloth which fell off soon after I got them. That left all that shiney stuff around my ankles and having my ankles chewed by a barracuda was not something that I really, really wanted to happen. I guess Baracuda are not a big issue for cave divers. But word from the locals is that Barracuda "do that all the time and never bite... harden up!". It wasn't all bad because with all the nervous looking over my shoulders I did notice the amazing colours and textures of my Barracuda bait fins on the surface of the water .... the photo doesn't really do it justice, but I could have spent most of the day just looking at my 'flippers'

This good sized 'boar fish' would have made a very tasty dinner if the right person with the right speargun were at the right place at the right time. But then shooting it with my 'camera' means it gets to live another day and somebody else gets to see it.

Bruce shows us the size of his sea cucumber ... And size does matter - the sea cucumbers of Bermuda are significantly bigger than those in New Zealand and range from black in colour to coffee and white stripped versions.

Maybe, might have, can't say ... but you REALLY have to have been there ... and it was WAY cool!!!

Partners in Crime: TEAM LEGLESS = Host Captain Cruel on the left, PiratePete (de whimp) on the right.

Well it is the last day of what has been and most excellent extraordinary fabulous adventure in Bermuda. Host Captain Cruel AKA Bruce Lorhan has been the supreme host and generous, perhaps to a fault. The photo above serves as testimony that the welfare of the Pirate was maintained to the last day and his stay in Bermuda was safe and he leaves Bermuda alive and well.

OK, OK, what are the devils doing outside the Bermuda Police Station. Well it was the last day and it was busy. It started with a few beers at the Seafarers Club as guest of Marin Dixon to witness the demise of Team New Zealand in a weird and close race where New Zealand lost the cup again. Then we visited Bruces Mother, then it was off to the Police Recreational Club at the Bermuda Police station for luncheon. Believe it or not, Bruce is actually a member (don't ask) it was there that we met the assistant Police Commissioner and discussed things nautical, had a few Gin and tonics to commisserate not being able to take my trailer sailer up to Auckland to be a spectator boat in the Next Americas cup as became my custom 2000 - 2004. And had lunch.

A few signs provided a unique photo opportunity ... you had to be there.

Back to Cold old New Zealand first thing tomorrow ..... and yes I will have to come back to Bermuda (Maybe the tall ships race scheduled for July 2009 might be a good incentive to start saving up my pennies).

PS I will up date the site and fill in the gaps in the next week or so

Ciao Pete

Well, I made it back to Godzone (New Zealand) on Friday 6 July as scheduled. The trip was uneventful and I was in good shape despite having stewed in my own juices for the 30 odd hour duration of the journey from Bermuda - Wellington.

I had hoped to sneak into Manhattan via the subway during my 7 hour layover at JFK airport. But when I enquired, I was advised against attempting the trip on account of it was 4 July; all the shops were shut; and there were numerous checkpoints to negotiate between there and the airport. "Best that I stayed put".

So I whiled away the time the best I could at JFK airport. Things of note - not enough chairs for gazzillions of travellers and the few that are there are made of ... concrete. Trust me if my butt even begins to think about 'haemorrhoids' I am going to sue the ass of the airport company [thereby securing the funds for a return trip to Bermuda ... see us Kiwis learn fast].

The only other thing of note was that JFK had the greatest mix of national airlines that Ihave ever seen. The check in area at JFK seemed to be subscribing to the same social experiment that we are participating in New Zealand: where our liberal refugee policy sees Somali and Ethiopian along with Afghans, Iranians and Iraquis [all more or less sworn enemies] all welcomed and mixed together. At JFK air alal check in wasn't too far away from a variety of arab national airlines and the Irish airlines were not that very far away from either. All the while French, Kiwis and Jamaicans queued up for their check in somewhere in the middle and groups of what seemed to be soccer hooligans from Brittain roamed randomly about the place. Considering the mix of such arguably volatile nationalities all in the same check in hall together, it was surprising that there weren't at least two US helicopter gunships hovering about to keep the peace ... Maybe, judging from the JFK check in hall example that it might just be possible that if left well enough alone us humans can all get along together??? .... now that would be wishful thinking, but here's hoping.

Weather in Bermuda for 3 weeks = 27 C air temperature, 27 C water temperature. Sunshine 11.5 hours per day. 1 x day of rain

Weather on arrival back in New Zealand. 7 C max with ice on the back porch Sunday and Monday morning. Hours of sunshine = near zero, rain and galeforce - stormforce winds. Tornadoes and flash floods in Taranaki. Near hurricane force winds up north with a foot of rain in 24 hours. Down South wall to wall snow and black ice.

I have to confess that I have spent most of my first week back in New Zealand hiding under an Antarctic-grade sleeping bag trying to keep warm and wondering how any Bermudians who come to New Zealand for our Autumn Easter Race down the Waikato River can be so 'Chirpy' given the hot - cold transition that they would be experiencing.

You could say I am finding it a tad bit hard to re-acclimatise.

Highlights of the trip

Bruce asked me what did I think were the highlights of the trip. I couldn't answer straight away since the entire trip had been a highlight and I felt I couldn't do justice in trying to answer that question. I am still having difficulty picking any single thing out, so will just compile a list:

Meeting friendly Bermudians and almost being overwhelmed by their hospitality and generousity

Competing in and completing the RISR

Diving

Fishing

Kayaking

Cycling around Bermuda

Visiting Nonsuch Island

Individual and collective conservation efforts/initiatives on Bermuda

Gubby bringing around some name brand 'Shark Hash'

Bermuda cedar and the carvings, furniture and carpentry made from it.

Bermudian Codfish Sunday Breakfast

Pleasant evenings and pleasant company

Seeing Cannons

Seeing turtles

Warm clear waters

Dark and Stormy and Swizzlers Rum 'punches'

Seeing a whole barrell of rum

Bermudians putting rum and peppers into their Chowder

The sound of Whistling frogs at night

'Tank rain'

Pastel coloured houses with their distinctive roofs

'Widows Walks' and 'Butteries'

Forts

Seeing a 150 year old Kauri tree alive and well on Bermuda

Caves

Cave diving

Wild Chickens roaming about the place

No Seagulls (feathered variety)

etc etc etc

Here is a Piccasa site of a miscellaneous collection of my Bermuda Photos:

Petes Bermuda 2007

and the unpublished underwater photos

http://picasaweb.google.com/piratepetester/Bermuda2007TheUnderwaterShots#

Pirate Pete's Home Page