This blog is for first time since 2002, not about some place... Perhaps, because the last one about South America, I got feedback on: how I finished in NZ?... and the main reason is because the Sea... so this blog is about the sea and me, so you warned and can stop reading now if too busy or don’t really care.
I don’t really know why the sea in particular has such a strong influence in my life. Looking back, I’m a ex rower, ex search and rescue swimmer, ex lifeguard, ex fisherman, presently fisheries biologist, open water swimmer, diver and surfer...
In fact, I grew up far from the ocean. I did however cross the Atlantic in 45 days on board a cruising ship from Germany all the way to Argentina when I was 6 years old. The boat was called the Bremen (ex Pasteur). I like to think that trip marked my life.
I don’t know if I have real memories from the trip or later recollections from watching super 8 films that my dad did at the time. My mum says that used to spend the whole day looking at the horizon and hassling the crew wit questions and to take me to all part of the vessel and usually I was able to make my own way to the bridge as I became a sort of a favorite passenger of the officers there.
Reality in Corrientes and Parana (where I lived after that trip) was marked by a big river: the Parana (I really mean big... is 3km at its narrowest)
Everyone in my family play tennis... my mum was one of the first generations of females pros out of Argentina and she has owned since then a big tennis complex, my brother a former pro as well cracked the top 100 but was plagued by consecutive back surgeries (a family trademark) and went into coaching since them. My dad after retiring from his job of a regional director of Argentina’s National Institute of Agronomical Research supplements his meager pension with tennis classes (at 70!).
I never owned a racket and may have played 10 games in all my life.
The water was always close to my house, but far from the family... So there I went... (I kind of grow up by reaction, more than by action) I rowed and swim competitively all trough my military high school... and the rest of my time was spend fantasizing about the sea, the south pacific and far away places... surely feed by a mixture of french influences Jules Verne, Jacques Cousteau and so on...
After the war (Falklands/Malvinas) with the collapse of the military government things looked brighter, so with my diploma under my arm I decided to move to Mar del Plata, become a fisherman and study Marine Biology... which that was like deciding to be a glaciologist or a astronaut for some one with my background.
Once there, I was drawn to the Club Nautico Mar del Plata (CNMP) and the National Institute of Fisheries Research (INIDEP). Both places became the center points of my social and economical life.
I got good at sailing sailing by crewing in regattas every time I had an opportunity and worked for the club running a small shipyard, as a children’s sailing coach and a lifeguard; and for the fisheries institute as a crew member on the research vessels, a fisheries observer and later a research technician and then a scientist.
I had diving as an optional paper in Uni, and I got my qualification there. But didn’t dived much until later on in life when I migrated... surfing was quite limited at the time in Argentina and while some of my friend where into it... I could not afford a board, but I fixed and re-glassed a fair share of them.
My main other thing beside sailing was swimming (to be a lifeguard in Argentina is a 2 year course, and you become legally responsible for the people under your section of the beach- a bit like a policeman... so you need to be VERY fit)
Anyway, by some reason I was kind of obsessed with the South Pacific... I had a big map of the Pacific Ocean (by the National Geographic) that I treasured and was always in my walls... I even had marked all the places I wanted to go...
But yeah... my fantasy was a great escape from a very insecure personality... my share size and appearance wasn’t very “acceptable” in post military dictature society... I never felt that I fitted in any group, so my place was with the outcasts (were I fitted only partially). The sailing club was a quite conservative place, but oddly enough I was quite useful and children really liked me as a coach, so I was sort of “accepted” as long as didn’t try to go to the parties)... Enough to say that we never were allowed into the places were the “nice people” used to go...
At that stage, I as well was going at art-school on night shift... I wasn’t after a degree... as I only was doing all the practical papers and not the theory ones. In any case... in those 3 years was were I felt for first time “accepted” and “liked” as I was. Particularly by woman... I started at the time (26!) my first real relationships...
Very close to getting my degree (in Argentina you go directly into masters level with a thesis) I got involved into a really sad, technical and boring dispute with a “superior” in the fisheries institute and my contract was cancelled... (of the 120 that we started Uni, only 2 of us were working -for money- there as what we studied).
It was a big shock... but in many ways was wake-up call... I realize what my future would look like in a research institution that depends on political wills, were you spend half you time trying to do your job and the other time navigating political storms under a lot of jealousies and back stabbings, with shit salaries, and no options of moving up the scale without a strong “connection” in the ministry of whatever.
So, 2 weeks after graduations and after having sold everything I had (wasn’t much) and having broken the hearth of my girlfriend at the time (we were living together) I got in a boat that was going to the South Pacific... I spend almost 2 years doing of fishing and other jobs in Fiji, Samoa and Tonga until finally I made it to NZ, were I fell in love with the place and I stayed for good.
On those South Pacific days I got more into diving... 2 things blow my mind about it... the colors patterns of the tropical reefs and the “three dimensionality” of diving. You see on earth we move in 2 directions only... we move in a “plan”... but in the water divers move freely in 3 dimensions... is as close as flying as you get... but 2 things sort of put me off a bit... one is the almost religiosity about diving by which many divers you interact when diving live by... the logbook, the records, the list of fish ids... and so on... is like the kind of dive for the after bit more than the actual diving... I have no idea how many dives I have done (over 100?), my diving card is from 1984 and is in quite pathetic condition...when I dive I like to “fly” I turn around, look at bubbles going up, the diffraction of the sun, get very close the LSD type colored fishes for very long... and all that kind of annoy the purists... but I have an awesome time. The other is the amount of gear you need and the logistics involved... is quite full on business.
That is the reason I love open ocean swimming... is very “pure” in some ways... if you are running in the open for 5 km and stop moving... nothing happens. If you are swimming in the open ocean for 5km and stop moving... you die. Is a very cleansing experience for me... I think I have taken the most important decisions of my life while swimming of my life while swimming... migrating, buying a house, marring Vibeke, having kids, going to Rome, leaving Rome, just to name a few... I really love swimming.
Surfing...I couldn't put into words the 1st time I surfed (I was in NZ already and for 1st time I could afford to buy a board without feeling guilty about the money). But I read something a few weeks ago (Tim Winton's Breath - page 28), and understood what seized my soul that day.
"How strange it was to see fellow ocean roughed man, do something beautiful. Something pointless and elegant, as though nobody saw or cared". There is a lot of beauty in the Ocean, and a lot of roughness when you make a living out of it... Surfing allows me to do something beautiful and totally pointless just for the sake of it... I feel a better person after surfing. I like the idea of my children seeing their dad do something beautiful (even if I’m not so good) and pointless, like the idea of they seeing me coming out of the water with a big grin of happiness after –really- doing nothing, besides getting on top of a piece of foam and fiberglass down the face a wave.
Jike this guy here, Joel Tudor that make it look soooo easy.
I wish one day I could be out there with Felix and Kika... but they are not me... they may want to grow by reaction as well... so is up to them... not going to force them... (I did however bought a board for Felix).
I feel sheltered in the ocean... land always make me feel unsecure... too many variables, too many people with things to prove and agendas... At sea, I know what I’m capable and what I’m not, either in a boat, a board, or just my skin...
If I die at sea... it would be only fair... it would be under my rules and I would be ok with it in what ever way happens... If I died on land, well, is in my will already... I like to be cremated and thrown to the ocean... so every time some one I care for, looks at the sea... is like it comes to visit me to the place where I feel at home.
