Penguin Dance

Sorry! Here it is:

Leaving song

So - should we put the video of our farewell song up or is it to big and too bad? Answers in the comments please?
Thanks
Amber
x

By popular demand - here it is - Enjoy!

A small remembrance of something more solid, all I want is a picture of you

Loads of pictures then.
Day 0, Take the last train to Clarksville, 30 May 2008
Day 1, Buzzards and dreadful crows, 31 May 2008
Day 2, Are we not men, we are DEVO, 1 June 2008
Day 3, They call him Flipper, faster than lightning, 2 June 2008
Day 4, If the rain comes, they run and hide their heads, 3 June 2008
Day 5, Comin' down the mountain, 4 June 2008
Day 6, Catch a wave and you're sitting on top of the world, 5 June 2008
Day 7, Feel like Jonah in the belly of a whale, 6 June 2008
Day 8, This is the end, beautiful friend, 7 June 2008
Day 9, Going off the rails on a crazy train, 8 June 2008

Going off the rails on a crazy train - Day 9

Ok, last day, I promise. Even I'm getting tired of traveling and being out and I'm ready to be home. Peterhead isn't exciting and a lot of the ride closer to Peterhead yesterday wasn't that great. I asked for breakfast at 8:30, hoping to leave by 9. I have a 1510 train in Aberdeen, hopefully that's enough time. Considering yesterday, I don't know. But a full English breakfast, I should be pretty stoked up now and ready for a lot of miles.

Packing up my bike outside, I spent a bit of time trying to figure out what the rubbing sound is I was hearing yesterday. Every time my rear wheel spins around, it is hitting the mud guard. That's annoying. And then I notice a big crack in the rim around one of the spokes. Now that's really not good. It all makes sense now. There is no tension in that spoke, so the wheel was bulging and uneven. The spoke wasn't broken, at least not yet. You can ride with one broken spoke, maybe even two, but it isn't a very good idea, especially having heavy luggage on the back and knowing there might be bumpy rocky roads ahead. And if the rim is cracking, maybe there will be some sharp edges and a puncture would really kill a lot of needed time. So, I spend most of the day in a state of slight panic. Not to mention that the rubbing mud guard is a lot of hard work, like riding with the brake on all day.

The B&B guy seemed totally taken by Slains Castle and also the Bullers of Buchan and said I needed to go there. There were both pretty much on the way, so yeah, that's seems ok. I don't bother with quiet roads for a bit, I take the A road out of Peterhead and head south. Traffic isn't horrible here and it is right along the coast so it is pretty too. The road is smoother too, since I was going to spend the entire day worried that my wheel was going to fall apart.

I get to the Bullers of Buchan quicker than I thought I would and it is only a few minute walk off the main road. It actually was really cool, probably my favorite thing of the day. They think it used to be a sea cave but the roof had collapsed in. Now it looks like a crater with a bit of water in the bottom and a door at the front to let the ocean in and out. The cliffs are covered with kittiwakes and their echos are funny in the crater. Then the cliffs beyond on the ocean side have guillemots and a few nice nesting shags. It is very cool and I spent a lot of time just sitting on the cliffs watching everything.

Rushing again, mustn't lose track of time, can't miss my train. Slains Castle is just down the road then, maybe a mile away. The path to it is dirt and rocky and I walk it to not strain my wheel anymore. It is slightly disappointing though. The B&B guy seemed so taken by it, saying it was the most spectacular ruined castle in Scotland. It is the castle that inspired the writing of Dracula, but I'm just not that into it. Really, there is no castle quite as spectacular as Dunstanburgh Castle in Northumberland, so maybe I'm a little jaded. It is pretty nice though. My favorite thing was as I walked up, there was a barn own perched in one of the windows. Unfortunately it took off before I could get my binoculars out, but that did seem kind of perfect for Dracula's castle. A quick walk around and back on the road then.

Since it is about noon now and I'm not even half way there, I panic even more. Really have to make time now. I've been debating about going to see Forvie Reserve all day but it seems apparent now that doing that isn't wise. Yeah, tire worries again. And I'm running a bit behind and there is no point in rushing in and trying to see something like that in 15 minutes. I should just rush and get to Aberdeen and make sure my return ticket is all sorted out. It is sad going past the turnoff to Forvie, but then I've seen loads of birds in the last week, I'll survive.

Past Forvie, I get back on the A90 and it is sheer hell. I get off at the very first next road even if I do have to go a mile or so out of my way. It was just crazy being on there. Then a lot more rushing on country roads, through some industrial parks in Aberdeen, and then a bit of the main roads, I cut off to the beach front and catch my breath and call home. The beach looks kind of nice, even though the water is covered with oil vessels. No time for a swim or anything, I still need to rush. But at least at this point if my wheel blows up, I can walk and still make it.

Back at the station, I make sure my return ticket is sorted out. When I booked it originally, I booked really early and had to call back a few times as seats came into the window where they could actually reserve them. The ticket I had seemed a bit weird and I wanted to make sure. Sure enough, they had only sent me a bike reservation and not a seat, so that sorted out, I had just enough time to catch my train but no time to pick up food.

My coach on the train to Edinburgh was quite filled with stag/hen party people. In other words, lots of women with pink cowboy hats. A guy is seated where the bike rack is and gets really crabby when I ask him if I can put my bike on the rack. Ahh, a sigh of relief though, all the trauma should be over now. I made my train, I just have to hope I have some time in Edinburgh to pick up some food before my connecting train. I rush around there, do get some food, although it turns out that I actually have plenty of time. The train is 20 minutes late arriving. And too late, I realize I'm basically out of water and once I'm on the train, well, there isn't any catering until maybe Newcastle. I take small sips then.

I sit across the aisle from some guy whining into his mobile phone. He starts the conversation by saying, oh I'm on a train, I shouldn't really talk here, and then spends 20 minutes whining about everything. Really, no wonder she hates you, you are a total crybaby and I hate you and I've only been near you for 20 minutes. Ok, I'm a little grumpy at this point, but please, why do people do that.

Well, Newcastle comes and goes, and still no catering, so I have no water by then. Then we are stopped in York and the conductor comes on to tell us the train is terminating there. I'm especially inspired by National Express when he says it was a surprise to him, that he found out from a passenger. Great, so have to lug my luggage around, get my bike off the train, onto the new one, and then sit and wait for a long time until we can go. After we do go, then we crawl along the tracks for ages and our estimated time of arrival keeps slipping and everybody on the train with connections starts going a little nuts, what you mean we will get to London after the Tube stops running, and how am I to get to Cambridge, or all that. I am happy that I have my bike and I just have to get home after I get to London, I won't be at the mercy of the rail system after that.

The conductor comes around and hands everybody a claim form. Since we are going to be more than an hour late, hopefully I'll get a 100% refund for my fare. It seems like the least I deserve for a rather bad rail journey home. I slowly ride home then, in a daze, but happy to be getting closer. Something then like 40 miles for the day and my own bed at the end of it. Glorious. It is sad to no longer be in Gardenstown, but my bed, if we could just move that up there, I might never leave.

This is the end, beautiful friend - Day 8

So where was I? Ok yeah, up really late last night and then up in time for our 8 am group breakfast. We never really had a group breakfast yet. We were staying in two different houses and our house had pretty much all the food but everybody was on slightly different schedules and some people (don't understand this one, how can one live?) don't seem to eat breakfast. But 8 am came. And went. A few more people trickle in. Amber and Ellie show up in their bathrobes and slippers. I wasn't there for this, but I suspect that their possession of such objects had something to do with a hotel in Aberdeen.

Then much closer to 9 am than 8 am, Kevin shows up with most of the rest of the CRRU staff. At least in time to get those who were catching a bus in Banff off. Hmm, no promised breakfast then. Must make note to add that to my strongly worded letter to Earthwatch. But to be fair, they were doing exactly the same things that were running the rest of us ragged, as well as organizing everything and doing a lot of their normal jobs, so ok I guess I can let this one slide then.

But they need to go. We line up for a group photo, and then we say good bye to Simona, Duncan, and Richard as they are packed into the cruiser and disappear down the street. Sad, everybody really is going home. The rest of us have slightly different travel plans. I had in my mind that I would try to leave around 10 or so. I had what I thought would be about 35 miles to Peterhead that day. I knew the first part of it was pretty hilly and I was already pretty exhausted from not sleeping for many days.

Ellie, Amber, and Soo were staying over that evening, so they went to do a bit of reorganization to move into the other house. I had some packing to do and things to get ready. I did do some packing the night before. Ok, maybe I just did what I should have done days ago. The first day, I sort of just ended up tipping my two bags onto the floor and bed and spent the next week just kind of rummaging around those piles. But now I had to figure out how to get everything back in there again because piles like that always expand to be 10% larger somehow than they were originally. Might have to bunji some shoes to my rack to save a bit of room in the bag.

All packed then, I wheel my bike over to the office and park it there. I'll go check my email quickly and see where everybody is at. Surely everybody will be back soon from taking people to the bus and I can say my good byes and head off. I also wander down to the bakery to pick up another pie and a turnover and a few other things to hold me for my ride. Everything looks really nice.

By the time I get back, nobody is in the office, so they must have all headed back to #2 then. I leave my bike there and see who is over there. Still nobody back yet and everybody else is deep in conversation around the kitchen table. I sit down, join in and think, I really should go soon. Eventually they are all back. Soo starts some breakfast and I think, ok, I haven't eaten yet, I'll stay for that. And chat and it is getting past noon now. Might be a good time to go, but I am enjoying it and don't really want to go and don't want to make a big show out of leaving and feeling a bit lazy. But it is a ways to go today.

Eventually Amber gets everybody moving, gotta say good bye to Kerry. We head out to the patio, and linger out there, and the movement stalls. I do kind of hate saying good bye and am tempted a few times to just sneak off to head off all the sadness and the rest of that. But Amber gets everybody moving again and we head over to the office for me to pick up my bike and head off. Good byes then, sad to leave. Yeah Ellie, I'll make sure we seriously look at the Philippines in our travels around the world. And then I'm on the bike and head off.

No time to be sad though, the hill makes it easy to come to Gardenstown but really difficult to leave. A week of not riding and the weight of all the things I packed probably makes it harder. I do make it all the way, although I have to put my foot down for a second where I lose my balance at Dale's stall corner. That part is really super steep. Once I'm up the hill and out of Gardenstown, I don't really have a planned route. I just intended to follow the coast a bit, probably duck off onto the smaller roads if traffic gets too ugly and just see where I end up.

Pennan is just over the next hill. It is at the bottom of a steep hill, much like Gardenstown. From a distance, it doesn't seem as exciting and special as Gardenstown. I almost skip it, having seen it from the sea a few times and can see a bit of it from above. But I really did like Local Hero and it does seem a bit silly to come this close and not go see it. I compromise and leave my bike towards the top of the hill. It probably weighs about as much as I do now, so I will have about half the weight to carry back up the hill. In retrospect, it wasn't all that exciting, but oh well, I did it. You know, even the phone booth isn't original. It was brought and taken away by the film crew and one was only officially put there due to popular demand later on. But still, I'll have to watch the film again soon. I asked at the B&B that night, the guy had a whole shelf of DVDs. He said he used to have Local Hero but thought it was boring and sold it on EBay. I guess there is no accounting for taste then.

It was hard work going over the rest of the hills to Fraserburgh. Most of the way was very up and down, lots of 10-20% grades. It was awfully pretty though. I did discover later why it was so much harder than I thought it should be, the next day when I discovered the crack in my rear rim and how it made the wheel rub against the mud guard. Might have lost about 10-20% of my energy on that one.

I pass through Rosehearty. It is funny going through somewhere that you have only previously seen from the sea and coming into the harbor. Well, a lot of this coast is like that, we hadn't been this way on land but we did cover all of it the day before in the boat. In Fraserburgh, I start thinking about lunch. I had a few snacks on the way and a late breakfast, but it is getting on like 3 now and I could really use something. The lighthouse museum looks interesting, so I divert over that way. I notice a cafe through their back window and that seems perfect. I've seen quite a few lighthouses, especially the ones on the Great Lakes, and I do have sort of a thing for lighthouses. It seems worth a little bit of time and five pounds.

I have a few minutes to look around before my tour starts. A personal tour at that, since I'm the only one there at the time. The tour takes you outside past the new lighthouse and through the old one that was finally decommissioned just a few years before. It is interesting to see, although the pressure of being the only person the guy has to talk to makes it slightly unnerving. And I didn't have a chance to look through the museum first so he has to go over a lot of the things that I should have already seen. I think I frustrated him a little bit. But I paid my five pounds, I want the works. We chat a little too, why I'm there, what I've been doing. I tell him I was at the Cetacean Research place that week. Oh, there were five minkes in the bay this morning. Wow, yeah, we spent a few hours yesterday following four of them around.

But back in the museum, the optics are pretty cool. Amazing that a 200 watt bulb, a room lamp really, can be focused with all that glass to shine for 10-20 miles. They are all really pretty too. In the cafe, they are not serving much but a pot of tea and a bit of beans on toast does me fine. Time to get on my way again.

Now swimming, I do regret a little bit not going that day I went to Troop Head instead. But I had to do it for the gannets. I intended to find a nice place to swim either today or tomorrow. Today was probably better because I knew I would be a bit rushed tomorrow and I wasn't on as nice coastlines tomorrow. Or at least the way the roads go, it was harder to get to them without going way out of the way. But I was feeling a bit run down today, it was late, a little cold, and blah blah blah. So, I think, ok, I'll just go see the beach at Fraserburgh Bay and see what it looks like. If there are other people swimming, ok, I'll do it then.

So what happens, just a few minutes before I get there, the sun starts coming out and it warms up a bit. I get to the beach and it looks amazing. There are grassy dunes behind and a lovely sandy beach all the way around the bay. Sigh, I guess I can't wuss out now. I stash the bike in a dune, get all the stuff out and change and head down to the beach. Ok, it wasn't my longest swim ever, but I did it and I'm glad I did and now I can concentrate on getting to Peterhead. What to do with all the sandy stuff though, my sandals are covered. I guess tie them to the back and hope a lot of that drops off.

But it is rather late now, I need to make time. I called the B&B guy and said I might be there by 6 or 7, which might be optimistic at the pace I've been going today. I can stick to the country roads through a lot of the rest of it. At one point, a bike commuter passes me. Yeah, that's pretty cool, the guy sped by and said he was going to work. At Crimond, there really isn't a reasonable way to avoid the A90, so I speed along that until there are some quieter roads I can get to instead.

Then something goes terribly wrong. At St Fergus, I was only a few miles away from Peterhead but I must have taken a wrong turn and was getting a bit lazy about looking at the map. So when I stumble across the Formartine and Buchan Way rail track and it says it is six miles on that to Peterhead, I feel a bit deflated. Damn, I lost about five miles there somewhere. But at least it is straight, well marked and I can't go wrong after that. But six miles on a gravel road when you are tired is a little miserable. And the weather is a bit funny too. It seems to be just on the edge of rain, or at least a light sprinkle, and everything is really foggy and weird looking. I want to hurry to not get caught in the rain but it isn't easy going fast on gravel.

Finally, I make it to Peterhead and after a few false starts, I find the B&B. I had marked it and could figure out how to get there from the way I intended, but since I was coming from another direction, I was all turned around then. The guy seemed nice enough. I was 30 minutes later than my longest estimate but he was there and was fine with me bringing the bike and everything into the room. It was a pretty big room, so there was lots of room.

I asked about dinner, if there was a good place to eat. He said, well, not really. It isn't that type of town. There is a Chinese takeaway next door and there are lots of other Chinese takeaways in town, or there is a hotel where you can pay 20 quid and leave hungry. Nothing seemed that appealing then but I did have enough leftover bakery stuff from this morning that I made it through.

Still I went for an exploratory walk of Peterhead. I didn't really think there would be that much there. Considering Aberdeen and it being much bigger and there wasn't much there, well Peterhead had even less going for it. It was all foggy and seemed really bleak and walking around it for an hour or so, I didn't really find anything interesting to look at. But been there, seen it, can check it off my list now. The room has a tv in it and I zone out watching Team America and fall asleep at the end. Tired after a day that was supposed to be 35 miles but was more like 43. And my mud guard was rubbing all the way.

Feel like Jonah in the belly of a whale - Day 7

INT - #2 SEATOWN ROAD - UPPER BEDROOM - EARLY EARLY EARLY MORNING

It is incredibly early in the morning, although being northern Scotland, the sun has been shining for hours. Three men are asleep in the beds, in sleeping bags. The atmosphere is heavy given the extreme lack of sleep of the three men which isn't helped by them having gone to sleep only a few hours before.

The door opens below. There is the sound of footsteps coming up the scary steps with the slippery carpet. The bedroom door opens.

KEVIN
It is 5:30, the weather looks fine, let's get ready to go.
(Leaves room.)

Silence. Long silence. Even more silence. Eventually there is a small amount of moment as the men slowly start moving and getting up.

So yeah, as threatened, the weather was fine in the morning and wake up was at 5:30 am. But our crew gets Orca II today, which is moored in Gardenstown. So there is no packing up the trailer and we can wait until the other crew gets their stuff assembled and then start suiting up. We are on the water by 7. Besides the extreme tiredness, it is really great out here. The seas are glassy, the sun is at a low angle and everything shines and sparkles. Sadly, Soo isn't with us for our final voyage. She didn't sleep very well and just couldn't make it up.

We head east and start our survey. We see a few porpoise pretty quickly. We note them down in the log and keep moving. I take over driving for a bit and play with keeping the nose down, listening to the engine and when it makes the right sound, and occasionally push the throttle the wrong way and we lurch a bit. Sorry about that. And you just want to move it a tiny bit but it feels all sticky and is hard to move just a tiny bit. Not much more to see right now.

By the time we get to Rosehearty, a toilet break is called for. Pine takes the boat in and we tie up at the end of the harbor. It has a tiny opening and is surrounded by thick seaweed. And the ladder up is mighty spooky. There is no bottom step so you have to step on the bit of the wall that flares out and the first step is broken and crooked and covered in slippery algae. We make it up top without incident though and make the long hike into town and find the toilets. The harbor is a bit smelly too, more so than others. Lots of rotting seaweed and fish.

Back on the boat, we finish our route to Fraserburgh and close out our survey. It has been a nice morning out so far, but it would be nice to see something and make getting up this early worthwhile. By about 9 am, we sit out at the edge of Fraserburgh Bay and the Sovereign shipwreck and get out some food and snack. Having been up for absolutely hours, it feels like lunch but I must pace myself and not eat it all right now. So, I eat one sandwich. We sit and float and watch the seals and try to get them to talk. But no pointing at them. Apparently that spooks them and they won't come out. A few swim over a little bit and one is on the other side of the boat, but none of them come all that close.

Feeling refreshed, we head out to deeper water to start our survey route back to the west. There are a few promising bird rafts around and we move around to check those out. We sight something pretty quickly. It was probably Duncan, he didn't miss a thing. Minke, hurray. It looks to be an adolescent. Wait, there is another one over there. Wow, cool. We keep seeing more and more in all different directions. It is hard to say for sure how many there were, either 4 or 5, since they are only on the surface for a few seconds and they move fast and far between breaths. They are all hungry whales and are feeding. All of us take different directions and keep calling out sightings, blow at 3 o'clock. Feeding strike. We go on and on. Although it is hard to keep track of which ones are diving, so we can't really time the dives, and even hard to decide which way to go since they are in all different directions and moving. For most of it, we just switch the engine off and drift until they get too far away and we move to follow the closest one.

Then a bunch of porpoise show up. And the gannets are diving and going nuts. And and what do we watch now, there are too many things going on. And puffins, damn they are cute. This goes on for about two hours until we have seen enough. We can't get dive timings and we can't really add to the count. We followed them for a little distance and we take location readings for that, but there isn't much else to do. We hear from the other group, they haven't seen anything yet and they are green with envy.

Except have lunch. That was hard work, now it feels good to sit and eat, looking out occasionally when you hear a blow hole blowing. All is good. Well, except for Andreas, he wonders if it would be against the rules to pee over the side. Pine says go for it, it shouldn't be a problem. He has had the great perch up on the front of the boat, a rack mounted over the side to clip onto and use as a platform to take identification photographs. All through the encounter, he had been snapping pictures of the minkes (and I caught him taking pictures of puffins occasionally too).

So, he attempts to unzip slightly, without taking the top part of, the arms and head out of the collar. And stands there. And stands there for even longer. We laugh at him to make the stage fright a bit worse and Pine snaps a few pictures. And still standing there and eventually gives up and starts unzipping the suit and then stands there again. And stands there and we laugh and this goes on for about three hours.

But moving on then, we end the encounter officially and start our survey route. The seas are still pretty glassy and it gets really hard watching. I'm so tired and I start to worry that I'm going to fall asleep and topple off backwards and end up in the water. Finally I take over driving and that's much better. It is more active and I have to move around and it makes me slightly less sleepy. We approach Gardenstown and we have been out for quite a long time and it seems like a good time to head home. The other group by now has found some whales are quite excited. But on our boat, Pine takes over driving and once we hit Gamrie Bay, she opens it up and we zoom into harbor and tie up and unload.

It is sort of the walking dead then around town. We shuffle back to the office and unsuit and rinse off the equipment and put things away. Good bye dry suit, good bye wooly bear, you were good to me, I hope your next occupant is kind to you. We shuffle to the office, to #2, read email, write, organize pictures, and anything else that doesn't require a lot of energy or fast movement. I go and take a short nap, which revives me enough so that I can stumble through the rest of the day. Around this time, the other group gets back and they are pretty pumped up (and incredibly tired too). They had lots of minkes and theirs came really close and they were very excited.

Amber and Duncan make a nice dinner and we eat that. Of course there is more hula hooping and that stupid broom trick thing. We also have a quick impromptu ceilidh. Now all the ceilidhs I've been to, no dance inspires more fear than stripping the willow. It is completely confusing and bewildering and this version is even more confusing than others I have done. Still, it is fun. Amber ends up with massive bruises from Kevin's talon grip on her arm, but as far as I know, there are no other injuries.

Then it being Friday night, and the last night, and already watched the sun set, it is off to the pub, again. Ahh, it is so sad, I'm really going to miss hanging out with all these people. What an excellent group. The pub goes without incident, unlike the night before when we ended up with a few locals taking up lots of room playing darts and pool. We played darts a lot of other nights but never really had a conflict with the people playing pool, but well, maybe it is a locals vs out of towners issue.

As sad as it is that the night is passing quickly, it is pie night. How Gardenstown ended up with such a great bakery, who knows, but pie night, that's just inspired. At midnight on Friday nights, they open up the back of their bakery and sell 50p freshly baked pies (savory ones). I get greedy and have both a mince beef one and a macaroni and cheese one. Mac and cheese one, that's totally inspired and it is fantastic. It is funny, walking down a street and opening some unmarked door and ending up in the middle of a kitchen with racks of pies cooling. It feels like being let behind the velvet rope.

The pub is closed then, where do we go now? It is late but it is too sad. If we go to bed, then it will be tomorrow and we will have to go home. So, we head off to #2 and sit and chat for as long as we can until we can't stay awake any longer. Kevin promised us a big group breakfast in the morning at 8 before the first few people have to leave at 9. So we at least have that to look forward to. Sniff, sniff, off to bed then. Good night all.

Catch a wave and you're sitting on top of the world - Day 6

Well, after the festivities of Soo's birthday, how can we possibly top that? Of course then Andreas has to go and claim that today is his birthday. But anyways, since we didn't go out yesterday but tried to, all our stuff was already packed up and ready to go. We were up early and out by 9 and over to Whitehills and loading up the boat by 10. The sea seemed reasonably calm so there was no missing it today.

A few minutes out of the harbor, we sight a minke. Yes, very cool. Although this one is a bit difficult to follow. Generally, they come up for three breaths and then dive and can be down for a few minutes before they come up again. If they are feeding, the third surfacing is a feeding strike and there is a bit more splashing. But this one isn't feeding and is rather unpredictable.

We attempt to get 25 minutes of timings on the dives but it proves to be quite difficult. We spot a surfacing, it is 400 meters one way, try to move the boat in the direction, see another surfacing a ways off, the third one is in another direction, and instead of the normal 2 minutes underwater, it can be 3-5 minutes and is 500 meters in a completely different direction. It must be just relaxing after eating or something. We all have to keep a watch in all directions and we probably miss a few surfacings. After 15-20 minutes, it is a bit too much and we kind of lose it. So, didn't get all the data we need but it was still nice to see. It is also even better standing at the top of the boat, in the frame, with a great view all around.

Our whale has taken us a bit east of Whitehills, so we head back west. On the way, we encounter a few porpoise, briefly. They are funny in the water, they look like spinning wheels, they come up, perfectly circular, a fin goes by and then they are gone until the next spin around. We head back to Whitehills for a toilet break and to eat our lunch. Back on the boat then we continue our survey, heading west. Kevin expects that we should see some dolphins in Spey Bay. But the seas have gotten rougher in the last hour. It isn't looking very hopeful.

We go by some seals and stop and chat with them for a while. We make seal noises and occasionally some of them answer back. We are really not seeing much at all. Looking at the choppy waves is quite mesmerising, you see lots of things that aren't there. And floating birds are cause for false alarms. I consider how you could create some sort of imaging system, looking for fins, having to eliminate all the water and waves as noise, the way the water moves and light reflects off, make sure you account for birds and their own unique shapes and movements, and decide it would take an awful amount of processing power. Which is probably why my brain was hurting, trying to watch all that water.

We make it to Cullen and it has started to get too bad. We are not really seeing much and Spey Bay is probably not a good idea. It is disappointing that we probably won't see dolphins today but you can't control the weather. Well, Kevin keeps apologising for it and the sea conditions. Yeah, he should be sorry. I start composing a strongly worded letter to Earthwatch in my head. I make sure I add Kevin's uncanny ability to make the waves splash me, no matter what side of the boat I sit on. There were a few other things in the letter, but I can't remember what they were now.

In Cullen, we tie up outside the harbor and climb out of the boat. We all climb up on the sea wall and lie down and relax. Duncan takes up position on the outside of the harbor, scanning the sea for anything that might go by. A group of us heads off into town to pick up some ice cream. The seas might have been rough but the day was still hot, especially on land. It is amazing the difference just getting a little bit off the sea can make.

On the way back to the boat, Kevin has found some CRRU trustees and we have a bit of chat with them. There is a oyster catcher combing the rocks on the beach beyond the wall. A few decide to walk around on the beach and skip a few rocks in the ocean, but it doesn't like that at all. It circles in the air and calls loudly and keeps circling until everybody leaves the beach.

Back on the boat, yeah, the sea has gotten much worse and there is no point in trying to go any further west. Just getting back from here is quite a bumpy ride. Bumpy but pretty fun. Amber and I are in the front, whooping at the really big waves, high fives all around when they are particularly wicked. You kind of get to know how they work. You can find a regular rhythm, up and over, and if you accelerate and then decelerate at the crest, you kind of ease down into the trough. So, you develop a rhythm of bouncing and up and down. But then some of the waves come at you from an angle. And there are a lot that don't subscribe to your rhythm and there is no way you can come of the crest of one and not slam down into a rather deep trough, or occasionally a wave breaks right over your head and you get pretty soaked.

It is all good fun but I realize later when I'm going to bed just why my arms hurt so much, from hanging on all day. At one point, it is suggested that Amber and I switch sides, to get a bit of a rest on the one side. But we quickly switch back because the other side is just better. We make it to Portsoy and decide to have a little rest there, in the nice peaceful harbor. We tie up and nobody particularly moves, just sort of lounges around on the boat for a bit. After a bit of peace and quiet, we head out to finish the rest of the trip. A fulmar circles around the boat, very close up and then heads off into the distance. And we see a few black guillemots as well as heading by the seal colony again.

We pack up the boat and get back in the cruiser to head back to Gardenstown. They drop off Duncan, Soo, and I at the top of the hill outside town and we hike past St John's Church, the ruins above town, and down into town again. It was the same hike we did a few days ago, but this time we just had to walk down. Walking down a big hill, one with a great view of the village and the sea is a nice way to end a tiring day.

Dinner is a bit of roast chicken and roasted vegetables. While we wait for it to be ready, we sit out on the patio of #2 and practice with Amber's hula hoop. Pine also takes great pleasure in torturing us all with the broom trick, twirling and twisting a broom around your body, stepping through with your feet, and basically just bending your body in ways that weren't intended. It is a rather stupid game, said as somebody who couldn't get past that second part of getting it around your shoulder once you had stepped over with the one leg. And the bay is lovely to look at, watching the sun go down and enjoying yet another pretty sunset.

We head off to the pub again. Well, it was quiz night, how can you miss that? I mean I don't want to give the impression that there was any drinking going on with this serious scientific expedition. So, umm yeah. We split up into our boat groups again, continue the rivalry, our team 'Andreas is pants and the android antagonizers' and their team 'In search of minke'. We don't do all that bad though. Neither of us win, but funny enough, we tied for second place. We play a bit more darts and pool and then Kevin keeps threatening to wake us up at 5:30 the next morning in order to catch what seems to be the pattern of calm mornings and then rough afternoons. He keeps threatening enough so eventually we realize he is serious and we better get home and get some sleep. Well, it will be 5:30 if he thinks it is nice enough but won't wake us if it looks rubbish. So, off to bed then.

Happiness is a porpoise mouth

A few videos off my camera. Here are a few porpoise swimming around (complete with Amber making her own blow hole sound effects in case you can't hear the porpoise making them).


And a slow cruise around (didn't dare hold the camera out when we were doing 30 mph), doing a survey for animals.

Comin' down the mountain - Day 5

Ok, maybe this is the day, maybe we will be back in the water, see something amazing, something life changing. Or maybe the weather will be too rough again. Anybody want to wager on this question? Taking bets now, get them in.

The morning seems hopeful. As always, Gamrie Bay seems pretty nice. It isn't raining, it feels a bit warm, and all that. I throw my normal things in my backpack. I never quite figured out what to take with me me. I love having my binoculars with me, but they are not very useful at sea. So, they go in there for the car. There is no mobile service in the village, so it is nice to take it with to catch up on a few days of messages that have come in during the time I'm in the village. I don't really need my wallet but it seems weird going without it. The dry suits are almost everything you need, but I take a few other things to stay warm when we are not in them. Camera, of course that has to go with me. The dry suits have a secret pocket in the sleeves, which keeps it dry even getting splashed and all that. It probably wouldn't help much if I end up in the water but at that point, I don't think I would worry about my camera so much. And since the office has things like wifi connection and is a good place to write, I take the little laptop and leave it over there.

Duncan and I decide to take a quick walk over to Crovie (heard it pronounced a few different ways, local one and everybody else's) before we meet up with everybody. It is a funny walk in some ways. So much of Gardenstown, the picturesque parts of it, you see from the front, walking around, the face that shows from the ocean, but then there are these little supporting parts of the town like the rubbish dump and recycling center and we notice things like how all the pipes seem to go from each house right through the sea wall and I guess right into the ocean. Quick sewage treatment then. But the walk takes us through a lot of these places, the less pretty parts.

Crovie is a funny town. There is a road down the hill to it, but in the village itself, there is just the tiny road that goes along the seawall. If anybody brings anything there, they have to cart it through the village in a wheelbarrow. There are a few of them in front of different houses and at the edge of the village, there is a large number of them, all with their different house numbers painted on the side.

The walk takes us out the edge of Gardenstown, over the beach, over a few rocky paths (sign says dangerous path, which looking at some of the cliffs, sandstone with lots of pebbles wedged in, I can see how a bit of that falling apart would bring down lots of stone on anybody unlucky enough to be under there at the time), and then into the edge of Crovie. There are a few people sitting out, it seems like it would be a nice place to hang out, to forget about time for a little bit. Some are having their breakfast out in front of their house. A camera crew is wandering around too, taking video of lots of different things. Perhaps it is a second unit, gathering stock footage and scenic bits of small sea side towns. Nobody seems to know exactly what they are filming though.

Back in Gardenstown, we are going to try it. We pack up the trailer with our equipment since we are heading to Whitehills to launch from there. The other group assembles and suits up after we leave and they launch from Gardenstown. None of us got out yesterday, so there are a few errands in town (Banff) to do first. The oil filter didn't get fixed yet, they need to be picked up, and they need air for the air tanks to inflate the pontoons for any stranded whales (part of the reason we didn't do the simulation the other day). All of that takes quite a while. And we stop at a few different overlooks to try and see conditions at sea and any possible things out there (nice bird rafts). The drive through town is also a tour of the Dale Walk of Shame, that's the corner that caused me to fail my first driving test, that one the second, etc.

At the harbor, we all set to work doing the normal things to get the boat ready. We also have two oil filters to fix. Mechanically it isn't so difficult but being marine engines, they are a bit compact and it is a bit fiddly to try and disassemble things around them and get parts in and out. And on top of that, we are in water and any bits that slip out our hands will probably end up at the bottom and quite out of reach. It all goes a bit faster than Kevin had anticipated, but unfortunately the weather hasn't gone as well. We look for anybody who has a more up to date report and get calls from those on the other boat, apparently it is pretty rough out there and a few of them are turning a bit green, or possible fairly pale.

Guess we are not going out today then. It is rather disappointing, but seems like a reasonable decision given the conditions. However we only have two more full days to see absolutely everything. We have already seen a few but we really want to have a good day with lots of animals. Lots and lots of them. And all week, we keep hearing about all the things we can do instead, fun day trips, hikes, tours of things, but how do we fit them into the last two days too. Just isn't enough time.

Well, we unsuit and pack things back into the trailer. We will leave everything there and tomorrow we can run right out since we will have everything ready. We need to restock the food so we head to Tescos. Now the other group, they saw Elvis two days ago and we are so jealous. Ok, that's another thing, Duncan and Soo and Amber are sort of my pals because we were on the same boat crew. We were supposed to rotate around to mix it up a little bit more but because of how the weather went, we didn't end up doing that. So there is a bit of us and them in all of this. Not that the others aren't also really nice and all, but we mostly spent most of the day with our crew.

But Elvis then. So, in 1977, well, some say he died. But they haven't looked in Banff lately. He is there and walking around. When they saw him a few days ago, he had on yellow. Today we saw him walking around town in a red shirt and white trousers. Man, he looked great. But he is the king and that's what I would expect from him. They got his business card, but darn it, we didn't have time to hire him and get a private show from him. We later see him chatting with some elderly ladies at the bus stop.

We also do some shopping and then head back to Gardenstown. So we have most of an afternoon left at this point. We look at the options. Mostly everybody either wants to go up to Troop Head or go for a swim in one of the bays. I am greedy and want to do both. But I pick Troop Head because of the gannets. And I mistakenly think that we will walk past the bay they are swimming in and I can take a quick dip. That second part was wrong but oh well, the gannets were great and I don't regret my choice. Well, maybe a little bit but I'll have to plot to get my swim in later.

We all pile into the Rover and Dale takes the wheel with confidence. We make it all the way up the first turn in the hill out of town and Dale stalls the engine on the really steep turn. And again, and again. See, all the petrol is flowing backwards and there isn't anything in the engine, he tells us. So we get out and let him back down to the flat bit and work on getting back up the hill, while Richard runs to get the gas credit card.

Finally, ages later, we make it up the hill and Dale then drives around in circles to find another petrol station that is open. Eventually we make it to the trail head for Troop Head and say good bye to the three heading off the other way for their swim. It is a short walk out there, all misleading and nice path, short distance and all that. Quickly, we are at the edge and start looking over. Wow, that's pretty amazing. There are just thousands of gannets sitting there. I've never seen them nesting before, generally, the few times I've seen them, they are just flying, and flying from way over there to way over that other way, never stopping. They have a nice grassy slope to sit on and I sit watching them through binoculars for quite a while. I attempt to take pictures through the binoculars too and when I look at them later, am quite surprised that some of them actually come out really well.

After this, I have to hustle to catch up with everybody else. And after the next stop watching a different part of the cliffs, and so on. It is a really amazing sight and I try to take it all in. We walk along the edge of the cliffs, just inches from the edge and a steep drop to the sea just to our right. The path is a little challenging too, it is grassy mostly, but is extremely uneven and has a few really deep holes which surprise you when you fall into them.

Eventually, we hop over the fence and walk in the pasture land, which is much easier but also requires hopping over a lot of other fences along the way, at the edge of each field. We crawl over, leap over, Andreas picks up a few and lifts them over, and some crawl through. Despite the obstacles, it really is a nice walk and the scenery is spectacular. I spot a small seal colony at the base of one cliff.

We come out at the top of the hill to the east of Crovie. It is a challenging walk down, I make a false turn and nearly end up going off into a pit full of gorse. That probably wouldn't be very fun. And then back in Crovie again. Hmm, wasn't I just here. It looks basically the same, I guess a few hours haven't changed it, but I guess a few decades haven't either. Then a short walk back to Gardenstown where we find the CRRU crew hard at work making a big couscous meal and assembling things for Soo's birthday. Did I mention it was Soo's birthday today? If you were there at all the few days before, it shouldn't have been a surprise. It was mentioned once or twice, or three times...

We have dinner and a few drinks and then the birthday cakes and presents come out. It is a funny assortment of gifts, CRRU logo merchandise, bits of tat, and of course, what birthday would be complete without Andreas' pants. Of to the pub, hopefully it is open tonight. It is but isn't for very late. But it is late enough for a few rounds out of the kitty and a few games of pool and darts. After the pub closes, it is back to #2 to finish off whatever remains of the alcohol supplies, rum and coke and whatever else anybody can find. Another late night, although I sneak off a bit before everybody leaves because it gets a bit embarrassing falling asleep in the middle of all of this every night.

If the rain comes, they run and hide their heads - Day 4

Today turned out to be kind of a day off but in a way it was more exhausting than the other days. It wasn't nice out and it wasn't pouring down rain. We kept waiting for it to clear up or get worse, so we didn't really end up doing much at all while we waited. And then by the time we decided it was too bad, well, there wasn't much day left.

I get up early. It is nice having a bit of time alone when it is quiet and nobody is around. I sit and read and write for a bit, having a cup of tea on a comfy chair and look at the harbor. It doesn't seem so bad looking out, but when I go out to take bottle to the recycling bin, I get a bit wet. Also, as we discover, the weather in our bay is a bit misleading. It can be perfectly calm but just outside the bay, the sea conditions can be horrible.

We sort of show up at 10 or so, but there doesn't seem to be a hurry. I write some more, organize some pictures (they are quickly growing out of control) and so some personal email and other things that sort of got pushed out of the way in the last few days since there wasn't much time for that. We learn about the database, how to enter in survey trips, how to query it for information, how the dolphins are kept track of, their photos and various bits of information about them and how they are updated. Some of the group help Kevin go over yesterday's photos to see who they were and see what can be discovered from them.

And we wait, and eat lunch. Andreas gives a presentation on diving physiology and how different mammals react to water pressure and oxygen deprivation and different adaptations around these. Some are geared toward short dives and some can reach hundreds of meters for incredible amounts of time. Apparently Korean divers are the champions of humans, along with a few others who compete in depth diving or length of time. And we learn how his tagging hopes for the minkes are supposed to work. He has tracking tags on suction cups which he hopes to stick on to a whale for maybe 20 hours and record how they dive, length and all that. If they can get good data on that, it might have a big impact on commercial whaling since that is all geared around how many they think are around and how many they can kill before they disappear. We also see his penguin research on a French island colony and see why he had problems with their techniques and why he moved on before his contract ended.

Dale and Andreas break out the radio tags and receivers and I accompany them on a walk around the harbor to test distance and location tracking and how that might work. Just from this initial test, it looks challenging. The difference in volume when we move the antenna around seems very slight and even triangulating with a few receivers, it might still be difficult to get a good location for the whale (which hopefully still has a transmitter suction cupped to it).

Dale is just a lovely fellow. Over the week, we all try to duplicate his Yorkshire accent and start coming up with our own versions of his stories. Usually starting with "there was this time I was in (exotic location) and I was doing (something dangerous)" and by the end of it he has sustained some sort of horrible injury and spends a few weeks in a hospital. All the woman think he is just adorable and cuddly. And he is just a really nice guy and somebody who you know you can trust out at sea.

We break for dinner. There is some talk about possibly doing a whale stranding (plastic whale filled with 2 tons of water on the beach) but running around in the cold and water doesn't seem to be the best thing for everybody's colds. We head off to the pub, but discover that it is closed on Tuesdays. Bitterly disappointed, we head back to #2 and empty out the honesty bar and play consequences (boy name, girl name, meet somewhere, he says, she says, and there is a consequence). Most of it has a high sexual content and a lot relates to dolphin and whale research and things from the week. It is a good laugh and a nice night. Late night again, sleep, where have you gone? And again, for a day where nothing happens, I go to bed, late, and totally exhausted.

They call him Flipper, faster than lightning - Day 3

It was a damp foggy morning. I wondered if we would go out today. I hope so, that was pretty cool yesterday. After breakfast, it was over to the office, a little writing, calls to home, and ok, what do you have for us? They seemed hopeful about going out. The sea was still a little rough and the weather wasn't ideal. Maybe to the west was better, but things we wanted to see were probably east. There is probably a little pressure to take opportunities for us to see things, given the unpredictably of the weather, it might be lovely the rest of the week or it might be horrible and too dangerous to go out even one more time. But we will try today and see how it goes.

We have a lecture on whale and dolphin identification, different species and how they are similar or different, how to identify each of them, and which ones we are likely to see. I think I have a lot of it down, but probably won't actually know until I see something. At least now I think I could tell if it a porpoise or a dolphin or a whale. Maybe not which particular type of each but I will probably do better than just pointing and saying umm, I think there is something out there.

Our group is going to go down to Whitehills to take Ketos, which is in the harbor there, while the other one is taking Orca II from Gardenstown. We pack lunches and drinks. And pack the rest of the stuff, we might be at sea for a few hours, or if it is really nice and there are lots of things to see, we could be there for lots of hours. You just don't really know.

Packing the truck has its own very specific procedure, how to fold the dry suits, what gets packed in each box, how you load everything. Seems picky but makes sense when you are at sea and knowing where everything is and that it is properly stowed. Whitehills is like 10-15 miles west of Gardenstown. Generally, the surveys cover about four different routes (mostly closer and further out to shore to cover different depths) each looking for different things up and down the part of the coast they cover. Our boat is mostly looking for minke while the other one is primarily looking for dolphins. Andreas has some of his whale tagging stuff along, this year they hope to tag some whales with radio equipment to get some data about their diving patterns.

In Whitehills, we have a picnic lunch at the picnic table overlooking the harbor. We learn the secret code for the harbor office and take the all important toilet break. Dry suits are not terribly forgiving of things like that. (See a few days later and Andreas' predicament.) Suited up now. I'm slowly getting the hang of the suit. It is still unpleasant to have something around your neck like that all day, probably doesn't help with feeling sick having that choking sensation all the time. But at least it isn't as fearful pulling that rubber collar over your nose anymore.

Out to sea now. All this stuff takes so much time, getting stuff stowed, getting things uncovered, and then slowly cruising out of the harbor. Well, in this case, Andreas had forgotten his tagging poles so we have to circle around and tie up at a ladder and let him run and get them.

Minutes out of the harbor, Duncan, and his eagle eyes, or is there an animal at ground (ocean) level more appropriate for uncanny sighting ability? But dolphins at, well something o'clock. Sweet. The chase is on. We follow them at a bit of a distance for a while. Probably about two hours in total. Our boat isn't the normal dolphin boat, our mission is meant to be minke, but you take what you find.

Pine keeps her distance and waits for the other boat to catch up with us and let them take over sighting. Kevin knows lots of the dolphins by sight and has the camera equipment for taking pictures to make sure the fins can be matched in their database and updated and their associations with other dolphins. Many of the fins, pretty much the only thing you regularly see out of the water, have pretty distinctive shapes, bites out of them at different spots, patterns of scratching, and other things which act as a sort of fingerprint to identify them. By logging those and which of them swim together, you can query those and find about the social structure of the groups of dolphins.

Today we come across 8 dolphins and 1 calf. It is pretty cool seeing them. But it isn't all fun. Pine barks out, I need counts, where are they, what are they doing, count them again, tell me where they are, and so on for a few hours as we follow them up and down the coast. But eventually we call it a day. We have enough data and we should let them be for now. And it is getting late and the seas roughen up a little bit. We decide to switch boats in Whitehills and let the other group drive back and we will go by sea to Gardenstown.

We open up the throttle and beep beep beep. Hmm, that doesn't seem like a good sound to have a mile out from shore. The warning light has a helpful message like seek assistance from manufacturer. We radio the other boat and Kevin thinks our oil fiter is clogged and we should be ok but we might not get full RPMs out of the engine. This clearly must be the case when we see Ellie driving the boat behind us hauling ass and overtaking us quickly.

Getting into the harbor then is, umm, interesting. Andreas gets a rather terse lesson on boat handling but we make it and get tied up and nobody is harmed in any of this. We make a quick change of the equipment, run and take toilet breaks and load back onto the other boat. Pine isn't feeling great so she decides to call it a day and Dale takes over as our skipper.

There is a single seal waiting for us outside the harbor. It peeks its head up a few times and then we move on. We motor back to Gardenstown pretty quickly and don't really see much on the way. We investigate a few possible bird rafts but don't see anything. Bird rafts are big concentrations of birds, floating on the water and especially if they are excited and circling in the air and diving in the water. It can mean there are fish and sand eels there, but it can also mean that there are whales or dolphins there in the water stirring them up, rounding them up, feeding, and the birds take the opportunity to pick off whatever heads up to the surface. We zoom on, the sun behind us breaking through the clouds makes stunning sun beams in the sky. Wow, it is nice to be out here.

We pass Gardenstown and head out past Troup Head. Troup Head is just amazing from the water. It is the only onshore gannet colony in the UK and it is really a sight. There are thousands of gannets circling over the sea, in front of the cliffs and nested up in the cliffs. There are thousands of white dots flying around, it reminds me of those Star Wars films where they show some big industrial planet, with all the spacecraft zooming around the cities.

And the gannets that come close, wow. I loved all the guillemots we saw all week, the razorbills, and the rest but my heart really belongs to the gannets. They are just lovely, white and yellow wing tips and the way they fly and then fold their wings and dive into the sea. Amazing creatures.

Ok, since I'm writing this after the project completed and left Gardenstown, I have a little confession. I might have been slightly distracted by the birds a little bit when we were at sea. The mammals were wonderful and I worked hard looking for them, keeping a watch, but I think I might have been happy just going out and looking at the birds. There were loads of them. I love how the guillemots all seemed to dive in unison as we approached them, 10 in a row, blip, all under water. Such pretty shapes. But ok, luckily a big presence of birds could indicate a presence of cetaceans, so it all worked in my favor then.

Saw the birds, no mammals about, so back to Gardenstown, zipping back. Amazing boats, they can really move when the sea is calm and you open them up. Dinner has been started by the other group, who arrived back a bit before we did. Fijitas and beer and wine. I think the night ended slightly earlier than others. Lots of sick and tired people.

The weather was a little unpredictable, so there are some vague plans for tomorrow. If it is chucking it down and horrible out, meet at 10ish and we will find something to do (distillery tour or something) or if it seems nice, sleep in a bit, take the morning off and be ready for sea in the afternoon. Bedtime then. Back to the sleeping bag and more sniffling and coughing at night.

Killer wave takes out Earthwatch expedition members...

This video just in...

It shows graphic footage of three intrepid expeditioners (Amber, Ellie and Steve) being taken out by a "killer wave" whilst braving the frigid waters of the Moray Firth. You can see the wave taking out the legs of the swimmers and dumping them into icy seas.

Luckily a member of the local coast guard (Dale!) was on hand to render assistance and as you can see everyone survived to tell the tale...

Condition identified - at last!

Now, my GP has been unable to put a name to the condition I've been suffering the last 8 months - Chrono-DCS it is!  Likely caused by my sudden return to RBI time, and the total lack of understanding on the part of my colleagues with regard to my enthusiasm for GOT and all things CRRU!

But there is hope, as the number of sufferers around the company increases, surely Occ. Health will organise therapy for us - preferably in the form of a return visit to Gardenstown!

I'm so glad the week has been successful for you all, exceeding even my wildest dreams.  I insist on multiple viewings of all pics, videos and every exciting moment re-told - at least twice.

The potential for a tremendous marine out-pouring around Reed has re-kindled my energy and fervor for the project - not that it ever waned really!

Oh, and I'm in the process of collecting contributions for the CRRU newsletter too!

Lang may your lum reek!

Leaving "G-town"...

On the bus back from Gardenstown to Aberdeen.

I am staging my return to "civilisation" and the 21st Century over a day or two so as to reduce my risk of "chrono de-compression sickness" or chrono-DCS for short.

Akin to scuba diving DCS ("the bends") chrono-DCS is caused by returning to 21 Century GMT from 19th Century GOT.

GOT is "Gardenstown other time" - a special temporal zone where what is happening in the outsde world doesn"t matter, where your mobile phones don't work and you leave your wrist watch on the side of the bed in the morning because who cares what the time is all day?

Gardenstown and the CRRU experience really is a special insight into another world!

"And here's to you, Dr Robinson..."

This was our "farewell to CRRU" song our Reed Elsevier team sung to all the crew here that had made our stay such fun.

Apologies to the Simon& Garfunkel classic "Mrs Robinson"!

And here's to you, Dr. Robinson
Dolphin's love you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
God bless you please, Dr. Robinson
Even when the Minke's gone away...
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)

We'd like to know why we are always writing up your files?
We'd like to help you get a bigger grant
Look around you, all you see are glazed and drunken eyes
Stroll 'round G-town until you feel at home

And here's to you, Dr. Robinson
Dolphin's love you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
God bless you please, Dr. Robinson
Even when the Minke's gone away...
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)

Hiding Dolphins in a hiding place where tourists never go...
Put it in a drybag in the back box!
It's a little secret, just the Dr. Robinsons' affair
Most of all, you've got to hide it from Earthwatch...

Coo, coo, ca-choo, Dr Robinson
Dolphins loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
God bless you please, Dr. Robinson
Even when the Minke's gone away...
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)

Sitting in the Wanking chair relieving the tension...
Going to the local pub at eight
Laugh about it, shout about it
When you've got to choose
Ev'ry way you look at it, you come joint second in the pub quiz

Where have you gone, Harbour Porpoise
The boat crew turns its lonely eyes to you (Woo, woo, woo)
What's that you say, Kevin Robinson
Reed Elsevier has left and gone away...
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)

Speaking of sunsets...

... you get amazing sunsets in Gardenstown.

I can't remember the last time when I stood with a group of people for 5 to 10 minutes just watching the sun go down, but that was a regular occurence during our time in G-town.

Day 9 - Eviction Day at the "Big Kevva" house...

As the metaphorical sun sets on our Earthwatch expedition Saturday morning is Eviction Day at the newly renamed "Big Kevva" house :-(

The first group has piled into the Landy for the trip back to Banff to catch the bus back to Aberdeen to catch the Saturday trains and planes.

Some of us are staying one more night either in G-Town or Banff so as to catch more conveniently timed trains tomorrow.

We are all very sad to be leaving, as we have had a truly fantastic time during our stay... good company, good laughs, good food and great cetaceans - what more could anyone ask for?

The final team photo!

Elvis spotted at local Tesco's...

When we went into Tesco's wearing our drysuits we were sure we'd be the strangest looking customers in the shop...

We were wrong!

Elvis is alive and well and living in Banff, Scotland!

24/7

The silence on this blog over the past few days is testament to the overwhelming amount of adventures that we have all had. Sleep is something that we have left at home. The action is constant: zipping each other into dry suits; carrying boxes backwards and forwards from jeep to boat; learning about outboard engines; washing up; trying to remember every wild flower's name; filling in sighting logs; making sandwiches; listening to the Chillies - again; swimming in the North sea (only 3 of us...); playing stupid games with brooms; writing up data; hosing down team mates; walking on the top of Troup Head, delighting in the vertigo; taking pictures of sunsets; laying about on harbour walls exhausted; learning fin identification; walking from number 2 to 28; playing pool; drinking a little bit.

Oh, and seeing Minke whales lunching; smelling Minke fart - a potential WMD; spying bird rafts from land and pursuing them on the water; bobbing in the water waiting for the seals to resurface to check us out; having indescribable sea birds chatter and clamour above us; watching Gannets line themselves in neat rows on Troup Head; scanning the horizon for another blow; trying to remember every seabird name that Kev shouts out as he bangs the boat over towering waves; delighting as a ball of sand eels surface and flick silver in the sun like fireworks...

But mostly, crying with laughter and wonder.

Dizzy, my head is spinning

Much too busy over the last few days to write much. I'll have to catch up soon. Hard to believe I have to leave tomorrow. Sniff, sniff.

Up at 530 today to catch the last of the nice weather before it turned this afternoon. This lovely picture of one of the minkes will have to hold you for a bit.

And unsorted pictures from the first few days

Wow! What a day - Minke at 5 o'clock!

Wow! What a day! After a rude awakening at 6am we set off into a sea which was smooth like a mill pond. Eagle eyed Pine spotted some harbour porpoise as soon as we got out of Gardenstown Harbour then it was a long ride along the coast to Fraserburgh. This is where things got interesting. After having a biscuit whilst being watched by the seals, we headed out to deeper water where we found ourselves right in the middle of 4 Stinky Minkes feeding! How cool! We were surrounded and didn't know which way to look. There were shouts of "Minke at 6 o'clock", "Feeding strike at 3 o'clock", "Blow" and lots of over-excited whoops. What an experience.

We stayed with the animals for 2 hours, stopping to enjoy our lunch whilst they were enjoying theirs. During this time we were also joined by 4 Harbour porpoise which came right up behind our boat, spinning round like beautiful little wheels past us and back again.

After lunch Andreas treated us to a laugh as he tried to pee over the bow, it took two attempts as he was struck with stage fright on the first attempt.

Then the journey home across the glassy ocean spotting another couple of porpoise on the way.

Go team! I'm sure Kerry'll get some photos up soon for you all.

Out.

Face ache...

... from laughing, scanning horizons, crying. The eclectic mix that makes the content of this group of keen cetologists is fascinating... But as all Belbin-tested employees know, it takes that sort of mix to make a special team... I thought that I would cry when I saw my first dolphin (which was the first sighting this year for the CRU) instead I screamed... The teddy bear rumper suits, and the talcum powder used to squeak us into our dry suits is perfect for regressive therapy. We all behave like children - squealing, giggling and eating cakes. Such delight and wonder is constant here. The generosity and tolerance of the leaders (nannies) is fathomless, as is the wine cellar at Tescos. There are so many experiences lined up for all of us from driving the boat; hanging off the viewing platform; having young dolphins with fetal creases, glide past holding their mum's flipper; seeing and smelling a Minke's blow; walking to the gannetry...........

The sunset is from outside our house on the first day, my first (scream!) dolphin and Amber hula hooping. Don't ask...

Dolphin video

We have video... a school of about 9 dolphins including one calf.

3 sub-adult males did a lot of jumping about.

The clip is about a minute long, 4Mb in size.

Are we not men, we are DEVO - Day 2 - Gardenstown and preliminary boat trip

Today, sort of the actual first day here. It is like that first day at a job or school, wonder what it will be like, what will happen. Well, it turns out ok, so don't worry.

I did sleep kind of badly. Stephen's seasickness patch had knocked him out completely but Duncan says I snored slightly. But then I always sleep badly on trips. But this isn't about sleeping. Porridge for breakfast, I make a bit and a few people join in. It isn't really an early morning breakfast-y crowd though. But that's nice, I can get up early and have some nice peaceful time to myself.

We report to the CRRU office at 10:00 sharp. Or I think we did. It all seems pretty laid back, come in when it feels right for you. If you want to wander off, just let somebody know. But who wants to miss anything, there are cool things to see out there.

I guess you have to have the preliminary stuff. Here are all the possible ways you can die on a boat, and here are the things you should do (and not do) so that you don't die on a boat. Mayday mayday mayday, we practice and practice. And get really hungry for lunch.

We also learn things about CRRU, what they do, goals, all that sort of stuff. Whaling organizations exist to keep whaling in place, obstensively to do it sustainably, but if the data isn't there or interpretations are off, or whatever, that probably doesn't concern them that much. Things like measuring how long a minkie whale dives for, is it consistent, is it accurate to estimate whale numbers by how many you can see on the surface and add in how long they are probably diving. Lots of things can make the figures radically different. And how do other species of animals and birds and plant life fare, how do they fit together, how do you conserve them, how are they indicators of other species.? The inner part of the Moray Firth is a special conservation area, should it be extended outward?

But enough lectures and after lunch, let's go see some things. And also get practical lessons in all the safety things too. They bought brand new dry suits just recently and we are the first group to try them out. There are lots of things in how to put them on, the layers, zipping right, and all that. The wooly bears are awesome, fleece body suits. I totally want to swipe one of them for pajamas. Putting on a dry suit, that's a real challenge. My arms don't twist that way, and putting that tight seal around your neck (that moment or more of panic as you try to get the rubber seal past your nose). It gets easier through the week but the first few times are rather challenging.

But all dressed up now, radiation suits, DEVO suits, the Right Stuff, or whatever, they look as they will keep us warm and dry. Our group is then first to the boat. The rest stay behind to learn about filling out survey forms and tying knots and other things.

We head off to the harbor. It is low tide and the boats are way down there. A really long climb down the ladders. A little intimidating at first, having to back up down them in the full gear, narrow, wet slippery. We are all fascinated by the jellyfish. The harbor is filled with them, a couple of different varieties, some just clear and bubbly, some with purple and orange tentacles. Pretty but I'm sure they can be unpleasant to touch.

We stow the gear on board, the two boxes and the wet bags (Ortlieb, of course, just like my panniers, if you want to throw something in the ocean, pick nothing else) but since the tide is low, we can't load there. The weight of all of us might make the boat drag on the harbor floor. So back up the scary ladder and we walk around the harbor edge to the outer seawall and load from the scary ladders there.

So, there are all the things we heard about in class, the radio, the EPIRB (something like that) that floats off and fills with water and signals the coast guard if we have sunk, the flares, the bilge pump, the thing that inflates and flips the boat back over if it flips, and the rest. But they say the boats are pretty unflippable, proper coast guard quality boats. And Dale, who is showing us the ropes now is actually a Coast Guard employee. So, I think we have safety pretty well covered.

We watch a man with his family put a speed boat out to sea. They vaguely put on life jackets, he is smoking a cigarette on the boat, the weather is a bit rough and a boat like that will easily capsize, and drives like an idiot. Dale is horrified and predicts it is just a matter of weeks or months before he is called out to rescue him and he smashes up his speed boat.

Since the seas were a bit rough, the intent isn't really to go out and do an actual survey. Just a bit of a test drive around to get used to being on a boat and see how everybody handles it. I have only been seasick once before (horrible rough passage on the ferry from Liverpool to Dublin) so I'm reasonable sure I will be ok. The boat is very open, mostly you sit on the pontoons hanging on to rope slightly over the edge, so you are right out there in the air and the sea.

We cruise out into the water and take a look around. Lots of birds out here, so fantastic, loads of guillemots floating and zooming off in their funny flight when we approach. A few eiders this far out, occasional razorbills and then we get really excited when we spot a few puffins floating off in the distance.

We seem to be about ready to head back in. But in the distance, umm, whale, dolphin, umm something over there. Ok, I need to work on my technique a bit, but it was my first time. We all look and Dale gets really excited, bottlenose dolphin, the first one of the year. Last night he and Kev went out to test out the boat steering and came across a minkie and some porpoise. We weren't supposed to see anything on this trip, we don't have the forms or the cameras, but we follow it around for a bit, trying to take pictures the best we can until it disappears. Wow, that was so cool. We also possibly spot a whale off in the distance but when we go to find it, we can't really find much.

We head back in after that, more things about how to dock the boat, what you do, and then head back to the office feeling pretty pleased with ourselves (or at least I was pretty pleased with myself). The other group is just getting themselves suited up and we stop to take pictures of each other in our spacemen costumes. They head off to the boat and we unsuit and head back into the office to learn about knots and forms and other things like that.

When the other group gets back, we spend time in the office doing our own things, writing, drinking tea, or just catching up on things. The CRRU staff head down to the other house and make up a leek potato casserole and we all sit down to a group dinner. We seem to have done things slightly out of order, we missed the formal introductions previously, so tonight has to be that.

Everybody tells their stories, their deepest darkest secrets, or whatever they will say under the influence of a lot of wine. Stephen launches into improv comedy and I sit next in line wondering how to follow that one. I decide that this dolphin adventure has changed my life and I'll quit my job, travel for months, move to another country, umm, ok, doing that anyways. But there is something in all of that, what do I really want to do with my future, my life, what seems like a really meaningful thing to do besides maintaining editorial software systems, as deeply meaningful as that can be.

Richard tells about his wife and the explosion in the chocolate factory. Ellie takes well being called the adolescent of the group but also has quite amazing stories of her travels in Vietnam and Mexico. Amber loves her van and surfing. Simona is pleased to be in the UK where people are nice to her. Duncan swears he has no interesting stories to tell but does have a mother who can kill rats with her voice. And Soo, well, she tells her life story, traveling through the years, lute makers, folk music, in three part harmony.

At this point, it is obscenely late, stories had taken hours but still how interesting it was. The CRRU staff is pressed for their stories and gosh how late it is, we have an early day tomorrow and they dash off. Oh well, there should be other chances. Bedtime now.

Buzzards and dreadful crows - Day 1 - Aberdeen to Gardenstown

Ok, not a great night sleep. I feel a little rubbish when I get up. Maybe I'm catching a cold or something but hell no, not going to pay attention to that. Although I do feel not so great on later days and I think it causes me to sniffle and snore a bit at night. Sorry roommates.

But up at like 5:30 or so. The sleeper train is weird. There really is no indication of where you are and when you arrive somewhere. No announcements and some of the platforms you stop at don't have signs on the side I was on, peering out my sleeper room window. We go over a large body of water and I figure it must be the Firth. I didn't see Edinburgh so maybe we didn't go there there. I peek out and look out the other side and the train guard tells me it is Dundee. Ok so a little bit more. Then we go past a huge lake, sort of swampy reed, based on other times I've gone through, that must be Montrose. Then Stonehaven, ok I remember that station, very close now. I pack and get ready. I can't remember if the train terminates in Aberdeen, so I am ready to do the quick unload just in case. But it does and no problems.

Our group assembles on the platform, hmm, now what. We wander around the station a bit, it seems to be in a state of destruction (construction) and they are looking for left luggage. Me, I'm not so bothered, I ponder how long to hang around. They head to a hotel across the street and Stephen goes in to see if they can leave things there. Apparently the desk staff is bewildered and tells him to wait until the day staff comes in. They decide to have coffee and I make my break. Damn, I really should have gotten breakfast there. The bag of food on the train was rather unsatisfying and it is like 53 miles to get there. But I want to get on my way.

I have a few maps, the Sustrans one for Aberdeen to John o'Groats, which I adapted my route from. I leave it early and head straight up to Gardenstown for the last 10 miles but I follow pretty much the entire rest of the way. And of course I have my trusty OS maps. Love them. Never leave home without them. And it is really great for obsessives. Ok, just passed that road, ok, I'm just passing that grove of trees, ok, there's that radio mask.

Sustrans, yes love and hate relationship with them. Totally mad routes through towns, back alleys, industrial parks, and miles of cobble stone. But then, you can be somewhere, no idea where you are and there are those comforting blue signs guiding you on. And the route through Aberdeen, evil cobble stones aside, it goes past some interesting things. My other teammates spend most of a day in Aberdeen but I probably saw more of it than they did in my ride out of town.

But I start following the signs out of town. Old Aberdeen looks pretty nice. Although that entire section, like a mile or so, is over pretty brutal cobblestone. Pretty but hell on a touring bike. Eventually my arms can't take it anymore and I ride on the pavement for the rest of it. On the outskirts of Aberdeen, I realize I should have found somewhere to eat in town. Oh well, there are things further up the road, a few big towns.

That's the other problem with Sustrans routes, they tend to be way off the beaten track (i.e. no cafes on the way). Much of the way was on old dismantled rail lines. It was really nice and away from traffic, but it gets a bit dull after a while, and riding on gravel seems a bit slower and harder work. Did I mention the headwind yet? A nice steady one slows me down the entire day. Not much comfort to think it will be easier to get back to Aberdeen, at least not at that point.

The food situation gets pretty dire. In Newmanchar, I hope to find a cafe or something, there are symbols on the map to say maybe. But after wanderinga around town for a little bit, I ask somebody if there is a cafe and he says, no, I don't think so. Nothing to do but go to the grocery store and see what I can find there. Which isn't a whole lot, but it has to do. I head out of town, back on the rail track again and find a suitable spot to sit, vaguely sheltered from the wind and stuff down a little food. Not very satisfying, but what else can I do.

I meant to switch over to the on road route instead of continuing on the rail line but I think I missed the turn. I bail off the route as soon as I can, which isn't easy since the only way off is occasional roads that pass have huge enbankments which are impossible to haul up a fully loaded bike up. So I keep going unti I can finally duck off and head to the open roads.

Ahh, this is nicer now. There is a bit of traffic but it is nice to be moving faster and the scenery is much more varied. A buzzard swoops overhead just above the power lines and is spectacular. I jump off to try and see where it goes but it heads off into the trees. I spend most of the day jumping off when something interesting catches my eye, a gorse bush with red highlights, which I've never seen before.

Later on, I find a two buzzards hovering over a ridge and then a crow hovers near. The buzzard takes a swoop at it and bumps wings. Another crow comes up and the two of them harrass the buzzard. An amazing dogfight in the air, mostly just bumping each other's wings to try and knock them down, I guess. I sit and watch this, totally amused for a few minutes.

I have until 5, 5:30, or whatever to get to Gardenstown, so I'm not in a major hurry. The rail tracks don't allow a whole lot of speed anyways. And a few of the roads are basically single track but then have a fair amount of traffic on them. I have to stop to let a lot of cars pass. Some of them even sort of acknowledge me as they zip past.

I really didn't plan the food thing all that well. I have plenty of food from the grocery store but I'm not that excited by it. Tarves is about half way and it seems like a nice place to see about lunch. The pub marked on the map doesn't seem to be there anymore. The other pub I pass has a sign out front, food all day, but it looks completely deserted (even a little abandoned). I walk in, not terribly hopeful. I actually feel like I'm walking in the back door to somebody's house, hello, anybody home? The bar man is there and I ask him if he is serving food. Well, maybe. We look at the menu together to tell me what he could make. A toastie seems possible, although when it comes, it isn't all that nice, but oh well, I was a bit desperate. The lime and soda however was really refreshing.

Back to it, I send a text to the others letting them know that I'm progressing. I have a bit of road left before rejoining the rail track and I enjoy it, seeing lots of wagtails and a few lapwings, and other entertaining birds.

Eventually I reach Cummingstown where I part ways with Sustrans. I have about 10 miles to go, down a pretty straight road which luckily seems to be pretty light traffic. The terrain is sort of heading upwards. I work out that that line of trees way up there, once I get there, it is all downhill after that. I had a text back from the other group saying they were waiting for the bus and would be there at 5:30. I guess I will get to Gardenstown a little before them then.

At the top of the hill, I send a few last texts, since Gardenstown has no mobile reception. What a hill though. It winds back and forth a few times, and heads straight down. It isn't quite as relentlessly steep as the hill a few weeks ago that superheated my rims and blew out my front tire, but still is pretty amazing. I take lots of pictures on the way down of my progress.

From the directions, and the pictures I was sent of CRRU, I guess I can't really get lost, just go to the water. Main Street heads off one direction but it doesn't look like it goes where I need, so I go the other way. Somebody smiles at me, saying I'm going the right way since they wouldn't want to ride up the hill.

Seatown Road, ok, that's the right one. What a lovely row of houses, right on the edge of the seawall. The numbering system is a bit arbitrary, lots of As and Bs and all that, and jumps in numbers. I walk back and forth until I isolate the likely location. Ahh, there's the sign on the door, found it. The neighbors are out, sitting in the sun, drinking wine and watching their dogs run around. They introduce themselves and say I must be there for the dolphins. Yep, that's me.

But nobody seems to be home. The neighbors think they saw everybody rush off just a little bit before. Hmm, that probably makes sense, it was just about 5 then, if they were meeting in Banff at 5:30, I guess that gives me a little bit of time then. I leave my bike there and wander off to see the village. Well, ok, I only make it to the far side of the seawall and then back to the harbor and end up sitting on a bench at the water's edge and sleep for a bit. I guess I was a little tired. But how nice too, it is warm, I'm tired, there are nice noises like birds and waves, and it is really just pleasant.

I hear a honk which startles me and see a rather loaded Land Rover with a trailer working its way down the road. I guess that would be them. They are a bit busy unloading but they realize I'm there and introductions are made. Yeah, ok, they seem alright. We have all seen Dr Kev's glamour shot, holding a baby seal in the booklet, so that's him, the rest we just had profile descriptions, not that you can tell much from those.

Our half of the group, apparently split by age, me being with the old people, isn't in the CRRU house, but just a few houses down. Soo and Simona are in one room and Duncan, Stephen and I are in the other room. We also have the kitchen that is stocked and will be where all the meals are made.

The CRRU team makes us a BBQ dinner and we add a few ticks by our names on the list for the honesty bar and watch the sunset. Which is about 10 pm or something crazy like that. Hmm, I might not sleep for a few days. Well, with my cold, hopefully my sniffling and all that won't keep my roommates up at night either.