We have been heading South since Monday, and things have not been going according to plan. First, we lost the Japanese whalers from right under our noses - the catcher boats went past at high speed, and we ended up tracking a navy ship throughout the night. Although similar in size, at first light we realised that it has not been the Nisshin Maru, the factory ship which we were hoping to follow to the Southern Ocean.
Instead, the Japanese Coast Guard dispatched one of their ships to follow us. They have been on our tail for the best part of this week and it is, admittedly, a Very Smart Move. Instead of us watching the Japanese, they are watching us and relaying our position, thus making sure that the whalers stay well out of our way. It is impossible to put into words how frustrating this has been, as for the time being it puts all hopes of a successful campaign on hold. Only time and a few cunning tricks will tell how long the Coast Guard will stay with us, and whether and when we find the Japanese whalers.
To add insult to injury, we had to ride on the fringes of a Tropical Cyclone that got upgraded to Typhoon strength by the weather stations. For about 4 days, the ship has been pitching and rolling a lot, thus making any decent sleep impossible on the Esperanza. Add two 4-hour watches to the mix, and you had me metamorphosing into a perfect vegetable. Apart from those 8 hours during which I had to be awake and alert, it was pretty impossible to do anything that required concentration. Most of the crew did not fare much better, but the upshot is that none of us was seasick, and that is good news, after all. Even a sea-bird, a male Brown Boobie was so tired that he plonked himself down on the deck and just slept for two days. A few pictures from the heavy whether you can see below.
24 November 2007
16 November 2007
Going Live
Now it's official - the Esperanza is lying in wait south of Japan for the whaling fleet to leave port. Greenpeace announced their intentions during a press conference yesterday, published their campaign blog and even hired a plane to fly overhead and take some footage of the activists parading a banner on the heli deck. Here's a few pictures from the scene:
12 November 2007
Hello from the Northern Pacific
Dear friends,
It is almost two weeks since I last wrote, so given that it is a Sunday evening, I am sitting on the bridge during my watch from 4-8pm, precious little is happening apart from 6-metre waves hitting our bow as we plough on, I figured it's time to get the laptop out and write. It is kindof therapeutical as so far, I've had no time to reflect, write diary or do any of the other things I planned to do on board. Time is passing quickly with two shifts on the bridge, from 4-8 am, and the same from 4-8 in the afternoon. I've learned to operate the radar screens, read NavText messages, use the radio and even steer the ship! However, it's not very exciting, just difficult in heavy seas and best left to the autopilot - that's what it's there for.
Thank you for all your messages and questions - I realise that it is pretty impossible to give you a complete picture of what this trip is like; rather, I'll pick a few anecdotes and moments, and leave the rest to your imagination and future emails...
We are generally in a phase of 'media blackout', so I cannot divulge any details about where we are, or where we are heading at the moment. The official version is that we're heading to Jakarta, but I guess you can read between the lines. We even have a webcam on board which takes a picture every minute from the bridge, and you can see it here. Please bear in mind that we're some 10 hours ahead of GMT, and you see pretty little during nighttimes. During the day, it's showing the bow of the ship and a lot of water - not very exciting, except maybe in a voyeuristic kindof way.
Since my last post, things have changed quite a bit - we were out at sea for almost a week, and then pulled into port in Keelung, Taiwan to pick up spare parts for the heli. Spent a further two nights trawling through dodgy harbour bars, this time with 'buy-me-a-beer' girls and crazy Americans wanting to fight in the 'Lucky Star' establishment in Keelung. If any of you ever make it there, just don't bother. Suffice to say, it all ended well but caused a bit of a stir on board. Upon leaving Taiwan, we got into some pretty heavy weather which made me seasick for the first (and so far only) time. It took us almost three days of rolling and pitching to escape the tropical storm which got upgraded to Typhoon - so good job by the captain and first officer who plotted a course out of the danger zone.
We have now been at sea for a further week, including almost two days of drifting as the engines were switched off. Thanks to Jeremy in Tokyo (he did this tour twice as a photographer) who recommended me taking the 4-8 watches, I have seen some pretty nice sunrises and sunsets. What is absolutely incredible is the blue of the water, a deep, almost shiny Azure, as if somebody manipulated reality with the saturation tool in Photoshop. During the drifting, we took the chance and jumped off the ship into the warm water, with over 5000 metres of nothing underneath us, and for several hundred miles in any direction just the Esperanza to swim back to. Swimming in the open ocean is a sensation I've never experienced before, and I am glad that I didn't do it alone - I have a better idea of what survivors of shipwrecks must feel when left out there.
One thing I did manage, however - I am getting a suntan, as the last few days have been pretty baking hot and sunny. It was so hot inside the ship due to lacking ventilation that sleeping in my bunk equals trying to sleep in a sauna, with sweat and all. So when the weather was good, I camped out on top of the doghouse, a small structure on the bow of the ship which you may be able to see from the webcam. Watching the sunrise from there while a gentle breeze blows overhead is just too romantic to describe, but you have to be inclined that way. I'll attach a picture or two to give you the general idea.
In the meantime, I've become good friends with Vlad, our Russian first officer on board who was captain in the merchant navy. I don't know if it is because we're both Slavs and thus understand each other without many words, or if we just have the same kind of black humour, but it's a blast. During this morning's watch we were bored and started playing with the gas masks and webcam - the result has been duly recorded. I just hope that nobody has seen this on the Greenpeace website thinking that we've been taken over by some clandestine naval commando. More flattering pictures of him are available, but those will appear on the campaign weblog which is to be launched soon.
A few days ago, a bird joined the ship - a Juvenile Peregrine, apparently. Vlad and I have named him Arturo, only to be told later that the bird is female - clearly a transvestite, we're sure. In any case, that bird cannot be very smart, as it repeatedly displayed a balancing act on the forward antenna, waving its wings madly in a futile effort to gain balance on that swinging wire. Poor thing, why not just sit on the mast and chill out? However, it gave me the opportunity to try the 500mm super-telephoto lens I was handed just before leaving, and some pretty funny pictures are the result. I'll post one, as our bandwidth is limited and I want to make sure that this message gets out without problems.
So life slowly ticks away, my watch on bridge is almost over and it's night now. There is nothing really sensational to report, so I'll close here and gather some more stories for the next circular. It may be a few weeks, as the weather is getting worse with force 8 gales and waves rising. Wish me luck and a healthy dose of humour, as boredom is the worst enemy on board.
It is almost two weeks since I last wrote, so given that it is a Sunday evening, I am sitting on the bridge during my watch from 4-8pm, precious little is happening apart from 6-metre waves hitting our bow as we plough on, I figured it's time to get the laptop out and write. It is kindof therapeutical as so far, I've had no time to reflect, write diary or do any of the other things I planned to do on board. Time is passing quickly with two shifts on the bridge, from 4-8 am, and the same from 4-8 in the afternoon. I've learned to operate the radar screens, read NavText messages, use the radio and even steer the ship! However, it's not very exciting, just difficult in heavy seas and best left to the autopilot - that's what it's there for.
Thank you for all your messages and questions - I realise that it is pretty impossible to give you a complete picture of what this trip is like; rather, I'll pick a few anecdotes and moments, and leave the rest to your imagination and future emails...
We are generally in a phase of 'media blackout', so I cannot divulge any details about where we are, or where we are heading at the moment. The official version is that we're heading to Jakarta, but I guess you can read between the lines. We even have a webcam on board which takes a picture every minute from the bridge, and you can see it here. Please bear in mind that we're some 10 hours ahead of GMT, and you see pretty little during nighttimes. During the day, it's showing the bow of the ship and a lot of water - not very exciting, except maybe in a voyeuristic kindof way.
Since my last post, things have changed quite a bit - we were out at sea for almost a week, and then pulled into port in Keelung, Taiwan to pick up spare parts for the heli. Spent a further two nights trawling through dodgy harbour bars, this time with 'buy-me-a-beer' girls and crazy Americans wanting to fight in the 'Lucky Star' establishment in Keelung. If any of you ever make it there, just don't bother. Suffice to say, it all ended well but caused a bit of a stir on board. Upon leaving Taiwan, we got into some pretty heavy weather which made me seasick for the first (and so far only) time. It took us almost three days of rolling and pitching to escape the tropical storm which got upgraded to Typhoon - so good job by the captain and first officer who plotted a course out of the danger zone.
We have now been at sea for a further week, including almost two days of drifting as the engines were switched off. Thanks to Jeremy in Tokyo (he did this tour twice as a photographer) who recommended me taking the 4-8 watches, I have seen some pretty nice sunrises and sunsets. What is absolutely incredible is the blue of the water, a deep, almost shiny Azure, as if somebody manipulated reality with the saturation tool in Photoshop. During the drifting, we took the chance and jumped off the ship into the warm water, with over 5000 metres of nothing underneath us, and for several hundred miles in any direction just the Esperanza to swim back to. Swimming in the open ocean is a sensation I've never experienced before, and I am glad that I didn't do it alone - I have a better idea of what survivors of shipwrecks must feel when left out there.
One thing I did manage, however - I am getting a suntan, as the last few days have been pretty baking hot and sunny. It was so hot inside the ship due to lacking ventilation that sleeping in my bunk equals trying to sleep in a sauna, with sweat and all. So when the weather was good, I camped out on top of the doghouse, a small structure on the bow of the ship which you may be able to see from the webcam. Watching the sunrise from there while a gentle breeze blows overhead is just too romantic to describe, but you have to be inclined that way. I'll attach a picture or two to give you the general idea.
In the meantime, I've become good friends with Vlad, our Russian first officer on board who was captain in the merchant navy. I don't know if it is because we're both Slavs and thus understand each other without many words, or if we just have the same kind of black humour, but it's a blast. During this morning's watch we were bored and started playing with the gas masks and webcam - the result has been duly recorded. I just hope that nobody has seen this on the Greenpeace website thinking that we've been taken over by some clandestine naval commando. More flattering pictures of him are available, but those will appear on the campaign weblog which is to be launched soon.
A few days ago, a bird joined the ship - a Juvenile Peregrine, apparently. Vlad and I have named him Arturo, only to be told later that the bird is female - clearly a transvestite, we're sure. In any case, that bird cannot be very smart, as it repeatedly displayed a balancing act on the forward antenna, waving its wings madly in a futile effort to gain balance on that swinging wire. Poor thing, why not just sit on the mast and chill out? However, it gave me the opportunity to try the 500mm super-telephoto lens I was handed just before leaving, and some pretty funny pictures are the result. I'll post one, as our bandwidth is limited and I want to make sure that this message gets out without problems.
So life slowly ticks away, my watch on bridge is almost over and it's night now. There is nothing really sensational to report, so I'll close here and gather some more stories for the next circular. It may be a few weeks, as the weather is getting worse with force 8 gales and waves rising. Wish me luck and a healthy dose of humour, as boredom is the worst enemy on board.
31 October 2007
Leaving South Korea
A big Ahoj to all!
This is my first post which I have promised to many of you once I'd be settled on board the MY Esperanza, the Greenpeace ship heading to the Southern Oceans and Antarctica this winter. For those of you who I haven't had a chance to speak to and say goodbye, I am now at sea for the next 4 months, photographing the Southern Oceans Defending Whales campaign against Japanese whaling for Greenpeace International.
We have left Masan port in South Korea today and are now at sea - time on board ticks slower than what I am used to from my hectic life in London, but nothing stays still on the ship. I see the wine in my glass slowly moving from side to side, a gentle roll that will no doubt rock me into a deep sleep once I finish writing this email. We watched a beautiful sunset over the northern Pacific Ocean, followed by bright lights on the horizon of the fishing boats catching squids and fluorescent foam on the bow wave, apparently a common feature in the Pacific.
Behind me are seven days in Masan, a south Korean port city of no great interest, rather bland high-rise buildings, spotless shopping malls, friendly people and a delicious grill for yesterday's last supper on terra firma. During the week, I had time to get over the jetlag (we are now 9 hours ahead of the UK), unpack and set up my equipment on board, and obviously shoot the first set of pictures of the crew and Masan's surrounding hills. We climbed a mountain about 750 metres high, a sweaty day trip up a rocky path, on the way down my knee decided that it had enough of the weight of my camera gear so I had to take it easy the next few days. I have now also recovered from very drunken nights in dodgy harbour bars while getting to know the crew, a team straight from the UN General Assembly - we have 20 nationalities on board from 4 continents - a great mix of friendly characters some of whom will no doubt become good friends over the next few months at sea.
I am very positive about leaving port and facing the challenging tasks ahead - to put you into the picture, we are now a greater distance away from New Zealand than the UK, and New Zealand is only our likely refuelling point on the way to the Antarctic ice. Between now and February, we will travel more than 10,000 nautical miles across the Pacific and Southern Oceans, endure heavy seas once we head south of Australia and hopefully prevent the Japanese whaling fleet from killing Humpback and Minke whales for their dubious 'research' purposes. Working in those conditions is tough, flights in the doorless heli are at -25 degrees Celsius and any prolonged soaks in the icy waters down south are potentially lethal. This assignment is not a walk in the park, but I have faith in the skills and expertise of our crew who drive the inflatables and fly the helicopter - although my commissioning editor warned me that should I chose to take this job, I'd never want to do it again...
Enough scaremongering! We have internet on board, very very slow internet via a permanent V-Sat link, but at least we're connected. That means that any messages you chose to write back will be gratefully received. In the coming weeks, we will be preparing for action, undergoing safety drills, boat training and test flights with Tweety, our rusty but trusty helicopter. The weather is good, the sea calm, and we are hoping for stable conditions for the next few weeks. Summer is beginning in the Southern Hemisphere, so I am hoping for a suntan and a few relaxing weeks on board while not much will be happening. I have taken plenty of stuff to work on, read and watch and I intend to make the most of it in the coming weeks. Only once we get south will we be either busy or the weather will be rough so that working becomes impossible. So wish me luck, take care, and let me know how you are from time to time.
This is my first post which I have promised to many of you once I'd be settled on board the MY Esperanza, the Greenpeace ship heading to the Southern Oceans and Antarctica this winter. For those of you who I haven't had a chance to speak to and say goodbye, I am now at sea for the next 4 months, photographing the Southern Oceans Defending Whales campaign against Japanese whaling for Greenpeace International.
We have left Masan port in South Korea today and are now at sea - time on board ticks slower than what I am used to from my hectic life in London, but nothing stays still on the ship. I see the wine in my glass slowly moving from side to side, a gentle roll that will no doubt rock me into a deep sleep once I finish writing this email. We watched a beautiful sunset over the northern Pacific Ocean, followed by bright lights on the horizon of the fishing boats catching squids and fluorescent foam on the bow wave, apparently a common feature in the Pacific.
Behind me are seven days in Masan, a south Korean port city of no great interest, rather bland high-rise buildings, spotless shopping malls, friendly people and a delicious grill for yesterday's last supper on terra firma. During the week, I had time to get over the jetlag (we are now 9 hours ahead of the UK), unpack and set up my equipment on board, and obviously shoot the first set of pictures of the crew and Masan's surrounding hills. We climbed a mountain about 750 metres high, a sweaty day trip up a rocky path, on the way down my knee decided that it had enough of the weight of my camera gear so I had to take it easy the next few days. I have now also recovered from very drunken nights in dodgy harbour bars while getting to know the crew, a team straight from the UN General Assembly - we have 20 nationalities on board from 4 continents - a great mix of friendly characters some of whom will no doubt become good friends over the next few months at sea.
I am very positive about leaving port and facing the challenging tasks ahead - to put you into the picture, we are now a greater distance away from New Zealand than the UK, and New Zealand is only our likely refuelling point on the way to the Antarctic ice. Between now and February, we will travel more than 10,000 nautical miles across the Pacific and Southern Oceans, endure heavy seas once we head south of Australia and hopefully prevent the Japanese whaling fleet from killing Humpback and Minke whales for their dubious 'research' purposes. Working in those conditions is tough, flights in the doorless heli are at -25 degrees Celsius and any prolonged soaks in the icy waters down south are potentially lethal. This assignment is not a walk in the park, but I have faith in the skills and expertise of our crew who drive the inflatables and fly the helicopter - although my commissioning editor warned me that should I chose to take this job, I'd never want to do it again...
Enough scaremongering! We have internet on board, very very slow internet via a permanent V-Sat link, but at least we're connected. That means that any messages you chose to write back will be gratefully received. In the coming weeks, we will be preparing for action, undergoing safety drills, boat training and test flights with Tweety, our rusty but trusty helicopter. The weather is good, the sea calm, and we are hoping for stable conditions for the next few weeks. Summer is beginning in the Southern Hemisphere, so I am hoping for a suntan and a few relaxing weeks on board while not much will be happening. I have taken plenty of stuff to work on, read and watch and I intend to make the most of it in the coming weeks. Only once we get south will we be either busy or the weather will be rough so that working becomes impossible. So wish me luck, take care, and let me know how you are from time to time.
Guardian G2 Cover story
Today I received word from my trusted agents at Eyevine that my pictures were on yesterday's Guardian's G2 magazine cover and two large inside spreads on the Canada Oilsands story shot on assignment for WWF UK earlier this year. Funny how fast news travel - I've had numerous emails from friends and colleagues alerting me to this - a sure sign that papers still get read. It's nice to hear that and receive a PDF when out in the northern Pacific, as far away from newstsands as you could possibly get. Below are the facts:
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