6/28/2002

:  If I sent anyone any SMS about a week ago: I was in a nightclub called Shenanigens - nuff said.
If I didn't send you an SMS about a week ago: I was struggling with my phone.

I think I read a book somewhere that says you should never take a holiday longer than two years....


posted by Garreth at 3:00 AM

:  Tawau - facts for the visitor. Spent a bit of time with Joe discussing the possible options for travelling about. In an effort to avoid getting drunk and waking up in expensive hotels because the hostel you are staying in has a curfew, we have set a budget for each day. And being sick as dogs, we decided sitting eating a picnic by the sea was an inexpensive way of waiting for a bus.

It wasn't long before we were joined by a friendly Malaysian. He too had a plastic bag and picnic, so we had a nice party. He was sniffing glue and grunting, we were trying to figure out what to do over the coming weeks. Our failsafe plan of copying the best things that anyone else was doing was actually failing, after most of the people we knew had tootled off to England. Our expedition leader is having his marriage ceremony in a few days, for which his wife's family have been brewing rice-wine for months. There will be lots of late night drinking, and old ladies drinking us under the table. Joe and I were rejoicing at the prospect, as the glue-head helped himself to our hotdogs. We eventually outran him - he was a big man, but he was out of shape - and stumbled back to nerdland on the way to a cafe. Hopefully they'll be watching the wrestling. They like that.

Best advice of the week: "Give em two black eyes, the panda loving c*nts" - Raz on hearing that I was in a bar with some WWF folk, who have caused the WWF to rename themselves as the WWE.
posted by Garreth at 2:52 AM

:  3. Did doing a marine conservation project change your life? Yes. I'd never have met the people I lived with otherwise. Without their help, we could not have hatched the plan for our new business. It's quite simple, and uses some kind of kharma bargaining - we did some good for fish and animals and what not, so to make it even we have to go and obliterate some.

Picture the scene: Calm sea, nice boat full of sakied-up rich Japanese men, and wealthy Texans. Blue skies, and the smell of blood fill the air. The gong sounds, and beautiful women in bikins go to rouse the guests. Each is presented with a rocket launcher. A second gong sounds and the curtains fall off the barge that is being towed behind the boat. The first event is starting, and the cows on the raft are suddenly aware that something is wrong.

Whoosh. Moo. Bang. Splat. The rockets are away, some of the hitting their mark as the horns and hooves fly. But the cows are doing well today - Mr. Nagamashi is well off the mark, and his rocket fizzles into the sea. No whale bazooka today Mr Nagamashi, that's tomorrow. Billy-Joe Jim-Bob has also spared his cows, as his aim is poor. And now the bidding war for The Ultimate Button starts, between these two heavyweights. The price is rising, and Mr Nagamashi is about to bow out of the bidding, when the shark fins appear. The savage great-whites that follow the chum barge are in a feeding frenzy. Moo. Splash. Chop. The waters are boiling with bovine blood and sharks choppers.

Mr Nagamashi is spurred on by the sight, and doubles his bid - one hundred and fifty thousand US Dollars gets him the Ultimate Button. A twinkle in his eyes, a mop of his brow by one of the blood boat nymphettes, and he clinches the detonator. Click, Boom, Splat, Splash. The barge erupts in flame and cow shrapnel, and the sharks peak in ferocity, feeding on burger meat and the remains of sharks that were too close to the floating barge bomb when Mr Nagamashi hit the button.

The guests retire for more debauchery, to congratulate themselves, and to be congratulated by the boat fluffers. They need to rest for tomorrow is the ultimate underwater fighting contest. Which pits salt-water crocs, sharks, cheetahs in scuba gear and all comers from the animal kingdom in a large perspex tanks. Gentlemen, place your bets please.

Fishing boat from Kudat
Rocket Launcher from Cambodia
Animal livestock from New Zealand / China


posted by Garreth at 12:15 AM

6/27/2002

:  2. Pigs heads and murder on Balak? Lord of the Flies? Yes, though not enough, yes, and yes. There would have been more severed heads if the expedition had sanctioned the trapping and slaying of the enormous wild boar that invaded our camp. Meat-hungry, protein-starved fools had many ideas of making bacon from these bad-ass big pigs (including using them for sport in the big-pig rodeo event we were never allowed to stage). But apparently pre-emptive strikes weren't allowed (we could kill them only in self defence). Even when one of the camp dogs was lacerated by boar tusks defending the camp one night, we weren't allowed to falsify evidence about our suspect big pig, and go into the jungle with parangs and sharpened sticks. One of our number, ex-army Rich, even had the camo clothes and face paint, and knew how to survive a charge from the biggest of the boars, grown huge from feasting on our bio waste pit. You kneel down and dig in a sharpened stick pointed into its path and it chugs along and impales itself.
As for the murder, all but Rich were mown down in the murder game - everyone has a mission to kill someone else at a certain location with a given implement, and if successful, gets to take on their victim's mission, until there is only one survivor - a simple game of assassinations. Personally, I took out Sarah with a josstick by our new bench, before Alex killed me with a box-jellyfish by one of the small boats. She didn't last long after killing me though - the victim becomes a ghost and can assist the remaining. After manhandling her into a hammock, Larium John could finish her off with a mattress.
posted by Garreth at 11:56 PM

:  People often ask me: "Wher yuuu flom?"
And I always tell them: "London"
As they always used to look blank when I told them "Mighty Mighty Loughborough"

Other things that people ask me are:

1. Did I save the fish?
2. Were there any severed pigs heads and much murder on Balak?
3. Did doing a marine conservation project change your life?

Despite the prospect of being stuck for the next 6 hours in a god-forsaken place called Tawau, that the guidebooks will tell you 'has little to offer the traveller', I'll cut a long story short, and actually answer the above, without resort to changing the subject much or answering with my own questions.

1. Did we save fish: We taught one of the local fisheries department how to dive as part of our expedition phase. He protects the fish and reefs in the area from bomb-fisherman. He may or may not use a big gun to do this. His name is Jamal, and he can use his chin to point at things. He only ate one piece of protected marine life during our 4 weeks together, and didn't stand on coral all the time. See, it's all about education, and working with the local community. Developing capability and all that. Which we did to an extent, even getting onto nodding terms with some guy at the nearest 'town' on the next island who had a mullet, big boots and a grizzly scar, and looked like a villainous pirate from an 80s kungfu movie.
As a side note, did we eat fish? Yes, about 5 times in 10 weeks. And it's hard hacking them into pieces with blunt knifes, or even blunt parangs. But we did it, protein-starved fools that we were.
On another side note, did any of the previous expeditions discover the hotdog laden freezer in the 'shop' in the nearest 'town' on the next island? No. Did Ron bring hotdogs to Balak? Yes. Where they a mjor boost to the protein in the diet of boys and the occasional girl? Yes. Did the 'town' on the nearest island have a consistent and constant electricity supply? Not really. Does freezing food and thawing it out really help its shelf life? Not really. Was there alot of Balak Belly? Hmm, well, a fair bit. Could he have entered photos of our toilet in RateMyPoo? Most definately. Did we? No, the digital camera became separated from its lead.

posted by Garreth at 11:53 PM

:  Turtle release? You look up people's experience of 'Turtle release' and they talk about magnificent creatures:

"Once they hit the water, they were natural-born swimmers, stroking powerfully (for a tiny two-inch long creature) out to sea. The experience was both fascinating and heart-warming."

That's arse. First off, we were at this Sipadan Dive place, where they save turtles. Second, we went to see turtles laying eggs at night, and we weren't allowed to disturb them, and that prevented us from making our way back to the bar. Turtles coming between a bunch of beer-starved marine conservationists and their Carlsberg - they should be made into soup and handbags as far as I'm concerned. And third, people spent ages babbling on about how they caught fleeting glimpses of these Jurassic submarines while we were on our conservation project, while I didn't see hide nor fin of them, not until I paid a (Malaysian) king's randsom to stay at a marine park, where they just get in the way and detract from spending time looking for hammerheads.

Turtles are the lamest mofos I've ever had the misfortune to be waylayed by. They're really exciting until you see them all over the place. Here they surface where you are trying to descend. And it would be too much to get in the way of these 'protected' underwater muppets. You have to avoid them. There, your divemaster makes you stop to watch them fail to mate. The little lady turtle on her tiptoes while the lumbering turtle stud completely fails to couple with her, and he's only doing about 1 mile an hour. And a baby looks on, confused. And because they're protected, you're not supposed to hang onto them for rides.

Quite how the poorly aiming Mr Turtles manage to get jiggy with Mrs Turtle is beyond me; every time we watched them, they screwed up screwing. (Though, to be fair, if I was with Mrs Malibu and ten lairy rubber suited gimps were watching me, I may suffer a bit of anxiety. But I'd make sure I was within 5 feet of her when I tried) But they must managed to get a bun in Mrs Turtle's oven, as the Defenders of The Turtle wait for them to lay eggs on the beach at night. Mrs Turtle painstakingly covers her eggs in sand for a few hours (plenty of time to annoy people who have a protected turtle between them and the bar). Then the Defenders of The Turtle collect the eggs and put them in cages to hatch, before releasing buckets of the little critters back onto the beach for the delight of tourists.

Watching the tiny cartoon creatures flip flap down the beach is quite entertaining to the Nikonned-up crowds. Over-eager photographers are warned from getting too close to the hatchlings, as they make their way into the clear blue sea, looking rather like wind-up toy turtles.Much "ooh"ing and "aah"ing is heard. People think these likkel turtley-wurtles are sweeet. Sweet soon turns to sour, as the resident herons swoop down from their nearby hiding place and a few turtles never make it out to see. It was very entertaining to see the smiles and gooey eyed looks of the tourists turn to to looks of jaw-dropping shock and horror, as the still flip flapping turtles were carried off into the sky.
posted by Garreth at 11:20 PM

:  I'm not lazy. Oh no. Ask anyone from Greenforce about my bench building work ethic. However, someone I don't know has put up a few photos of a previous expedition phase on the island. And seeing as I have to go and pass out in our hostel (with it's prominant sign saying 'NO PROSTITUTES') it's the best you're gonna get this week.
posted by Garreth at 4:26 AM

:  Just got back from a brief dive holiday in Sipadan, where they let you dive in caves and at night with no real evidence of diving experience, and then sell you beer to help get over the decompression illness. And middleaged women go to pull young Malaysian dive instructors. One of them asked me for a condom 'for her friend' so that she could stay one more night with our dive instructor. What does it mean when people ask you for contraceptives?

a. you're likely to be carrying some as you are such a stud muffin
b. you're never likely to use that festering out of date condom that you keep in your wallet, the one that your dad gave you on your 18th birthday
c. you look like someone who rips of condom machines
d. you look like someone from the Terrence Higgins Trust
or
e. that 'I have a small penis' t-shirt makes you a likely candidate
?

After reintroducing can shotgunning into Asia (And the Loughborough beermat game - much to the delight of the local germs wishing to propogate themselves), it seemed only natural to try drinking lager underwater at night in this great island resort. Quite funny, if a little salty, and not enough peanuts. Though there was as much peanut butter and toast as you could eat at the resort.

Got to go into the wilderness to see a Chinese man about a dog, so don't watch this space for a bit. Or expect any emails phone calls etc.
posted by Garreth at 4:21 AM

6/22/2002

:  Back in civilisation. Connections start being made again. Little bits of information flying around the world. SMS, email.

What's it like living on an island with 11 to 22 fish huggers? Hard to say, but it involves baking bread, burning stuff, chopping down trees (well it's not a terrestrial conservation project is it, and I'm sure the terrestrial expeditions use the sea as a big dustbin), and looking at coral, fishes and slime. And learning to love the taste of donkey vodka and warm sprite.

Did it do anyone other than me any good? It's not like a TrekForce project where you have tangible outputs like roads and holes. We collect data, and true, we do try to change things (teaching English in a local school is the most satisfying example of that). But the data is big and dirty. And in an Access database....
posted by Garreth at 12:21 AM

6/17/2002

:  I have crept into the staff room on the long house in Balak. The doors are boarded up, but they could come in through the windows or turn off the generator at any time, so I must be brief.

If I was coming on a Greenforce expedition to Balak directly from England, this is what I'd do:

1. Drink as much as possible before you leave England, put on as much weight as you can (if you are a boy)
2. Buy a bit of 100% deet in England. There's loads of bugs and things here which are resistant to everything, but you'll be able to trade deet in for things that you need from gullible people who have them. Imagine being in prison as a non smoker - you still need currency to get things from other prisoners, and you decide whether you want it to be fags or your buttocks.
3. Buy a bit of dive kit but only the minimum in England. My wetsuit is made in Thailand. Someone imported it into London. I bought it in London. I took it 15,000 miles to Balak. Via Thailand. It's big.
4. Buy glitter in England.
5. Get to Kota Kinabalu completely underprepared. Buy everything you need there. Cheaply. In all of the spare time you have.
6. In KK, buy marmite, chewing gum, chocolate (yes I know it melts, but it still tastes nice), as much filthy booze as you can reasonably carry (6-10 bottles of spirits would not be considered too excessive), and several crates of lager (they're not that heavy, and you'll miss it), and you wont get many chances to buy any more. Remember, even if you are tee-total, you can use them as currency. Actually, if you're tee-total, I would consider getting some other kind of serious addiction for Saturday nights, such as fighting yourselves, or gambling on cock fights. (There are only hens on the islands, so consider bringing your own roosters and razor blades if you follow the latter option)
7. Bring a Lilo from somewhere. Especially if you are lazy and like lying about in the jellyfish infested sea in the sun. The more adventurous of you will clearly be using your axe to hew down and deforest half of the island to build rafts (but don't expect to be given any string or rope to do this with - resources are scarce). This will afford the adventurous the opportunity to laze in the sun deep in the sea, as opposed to in the shallows.
8. Bring some string. If you are adventurous.
9. Bring a hammock from somewhere. A big one. Big enough for four people. Not only will everyone be jealous of your kingsize four poster string bed (when they put up their own mangy string vest hammocks), but you will be able to lure said people into said hammock. See point 6 about copious amounts of booze.
10. Buy a video camera in duty free. Hours of embarrasment and fun.
11. Realise you have forgotten to bring any music. Buy cheap pirate CDs in KK. Nothing you really like, as you'll get sick of it. Maybe a few 80s/90s/00s hit compilations for miming and thrashing about to. See point 6 about copious amounts of booze.
12. Buy speedos in KK. Wear them always. With pride. Add a bikini top if you are a (prudish) girl.
13. The hostel you stay at in KK is in the centre of the red light district and drug slum. Buy a Phillipino wife to do your chores on the island. Buy seeds to grow narcotic plants on the island. A UV kit and greenhouses may be a bit conspicuous, so try to get plants that are known to grow locally.
14. The lobsters are coming, they're battering the door down. I have to go. Remember, Charlie don't surf.


posted by Garreth at 9:27 PM