Let Curiosity Kill the Cat

Young children, puppies and kittens are all brave souls discovering new ideas and territories on an hourly basis, pushing and caressing and testing the world without the slightest fear of consequences or death.  

Grown ups are supposed to be better equipped to survive the wild world.  Secretly I don't think it is because they (we!) are braver, stronger, or wiser.  I think it's just because they get so comfortable with their droning routines, they give up their birthrights to discover new things.

Some think I'm suicidal to plan my own NZ circumnavigation adventure, but really, men have been charting new territories for as long as history, and I'm merely following someone else's footsteps.  I'm anxious about the unknown -- I'm not great at navigations and I mostly find my way around HK by sight, meaning I already know the water and islands without consulting maps or compasses.  But I wasn't born with the knowledge, and when I threw myself onto the water a few years ago to explore Hong Kong, I was even less skilled, less experienced, less resourceful.  Granted, I have my silly moments; like any other living creatures, I learn by making mistakes.  I expect myself to continue to make mistakes in NZ, I'm anxious about it, but I don't see why I should let it hold me back.

A man who is not afraid of the sea will soon be drowned, for he will be going out on a day he shouldn't.  But we do be afraid of the sea, and we do only be drowned now and again.  Oh mother sea, take me as I am: I come to you with fearful respect, but also with foolish, naive romance. 

A penis for happiness

And I thought I make the darnest mistakes when learning new languages.  Madam de Gaulle just takes the cake.

Madame de Gaulle was said to have been lunching with the American ambassador at the time of her husband's retirement when she was asked what she was most looking forward to in the years ahead.

She thought for a moment before announcing boldly: "A penis". A startled hush fell over the table until the former president leant over and said: "My dear, I think it's pronounced 'happiness'."

Ramming a Daycare

Was reading the news about the fire that claimed a daycare in Mexico.  Some parents rammed the daycare with their vehicles in order to break down the walls to rescue the kids.

Condolence to all the families and friends of the young victims, but I think the parents who rammed the school did a great job.  There is a time and place for complacency (or maybe there isn't one, if you ask me.) and rescue isn't one of them.  

I have had enough of HKCU paddlers criticizing me for disregarding regulations and rules.  Of course you're not supposed to paddle the channel at night, but that's what you have to do if the sun decides to set while you're still on the water.   It's not like I'm just going to capsize and decide to die.

Numb-fingers

My right hand fingers went numb on Monday, when I paddled with Phil in the morning then joined Man-Sir for K1.  Not sure what it is, something like that happened to my right ring finger when I paddled from Lamma to TPC then back to Lamma, pushing for well over 50km everyday continuously.  Man Sir said I chose a paddle shaft that's too thick for my small hands, so I switched, it felt a little better, but it still tingles after a while.  Then Man-Sir commented that I'm pushing the blade too far astern, especially since I wasn't rotating my torso.  Bahh, I need to work on my coordination from ground zero.

So I decided to rest for a few days before it gets any worse.  Weather's been nice anyway, which makes good shopping days but relatively boring paddling.  Want to go camping though, think I'll hang a hammock or pitch a bivy sometimes this week or next.

Got an e-mail from Keiko -- life in Japan seems like such a long time ago.  If I have to be honest I really didn't enjoy Utsunomiya; but if I get to stay near the water, I wouldn't mind going back to Japan again.

Right.  Am going to go back onto the water tomorrow.  So I better get ready for bed.

Storm Chaser

Looks like the monsoon really is gone; I got up early this morning to send off the last bit of her magic.  Was supposed to meet Phil at 7am to paddle but couldn't resist getting down to the water earlier, while the monsoon still tried to roar.  I was quite sad to see her power dwindles and wanes. 

I have some doubts about my current training attitude -- "the worst stormy weather in HK doesn't even measure up to a breeze in the Pacific Northwest," or so I keep telling myself.  Which drives me to go out of my way to look for troubles at sea.  I'm fairly comfortable with monsoon paddling by now, (then again, I'm getting comfortable with crash-landing onto rock faces too.) next thing I'll be chasing after a T8.  

Which might help me handle bad weathers and big waves, but it's not helping me in trip -planning at all.  The best rescue remains the ones that you didn't have to do, and I'm cheating myself if I send myself out into the big open blue without learning the lessons in risks-management.  I hate to go to NZ or CA with this "storms are fun" attitude.

Siu Ming made it clear that he didn't want to be a mentor to me; he just wants to be a friend and a fellow paddler.  Which is probably a good thing: when I'm paddling solo somewhere out there in the Pacific, it won't do me any good to have a habit of looking up to a mentor and waiting for his divine answer of what to do next.  While I warm to a lot of his ideas, I notice I also disagree with a few.  So we might as well handle the sea with our separate styles and see who is more right.

Where are my friends?

It's not like me to look back, at least not too much.  But as I was listening to Janice Joplin, I can't help wondering what happened to me.

I had a lot of fun paddling in the monsoon -- the fear and stress were just part of the spices that added to the adrenaline rush.  But still, sea-going used to be a social activity for me, my roommates and I would come back from a long day in college and part time job, and spontaneously decide to stroll down to the beach and launch our canoe to catch some crabs and camp on Flower Island.

Then we would make a fire, burn our essays, skinny dip, play guitar, and get drunk around the camp fire.

Now, I just paddle solo.  It was fun, especially with a gale-forced following wind, shooting me ahead like a bullet, and I can't wait for the next monsoon or T3 to come.  But still, like Janice sings, "I'd trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday."

Friends and adventures, can't we have them all?

observatory going haywire

You know summer is here if you're worried about thunderstorm all the time.

I have a "free" day tomorrow, I'm quite tired and want to be lazy and take a break, but I also want to keep up the regular kayaking practice.  Then again, the salt blisters are killing me.

The HK Observatory has been going haywire, it predicted rain when it's brazenly hot and sunny, then it cancelled the rainy forecast when it actually rained.  They cancelled the thunderstorm forecast just now, I don't know whether to believe it, which adds to my indecision about what to do (where to paddle) tomorrow. 

It's so tempting to just stay home and sleep, but I have to cook up a trip plan before I fold in to arrange for safety call backups too. 

You know, kayaking used to be simple, spontaneous, and fun; I wonder what happened to me :(