Explorers Connect

Scientific Exploration Society Awards Scheme

OtherBelinda KirkComment

It is a commonly held misconception that the days of the great exploratory expeditions are over. Programmes such as the SES Award Scheme are vital to fuel the efforts of young explorers, to facilitate the projects of the next generation of expedition leaders, and to continue the long and proud British tradition of stepping off the map.

Monty Halls The Scientific Exploration Society Awards Scheme is intended to offer support to an innovative individual who has put together a team and a plan for an expedition for scientific research. He or she should share the pioneering commitment of Col John Blashford-Snell OBE, by inspiring other people to go on and do great things.

Applications are invited by 1st December and by 1st August each year, and grants are generally of 500,sponsored awards may be higher, please see website for fulldetails: www.ses-explore.org/awards

Retracing the footsteps of Isabella Bird in 1889

OtherBelinda KirkComment

Isabella Bird is the fourth early female explorer that I have retraced the journey of and filmed. I shall begin writing book shortly but am keen to recreate the journeys of Florence Baker in Uganda and Kate Marsden riding across Siberia as part of it.

The Isabella Bird expedition went very well and she was such a good choice her 1889 journey is documented in detail in her book and it was so interesting to follow her journey through such an unchanged landscape into Nubra. Ladakh is stunning and the mountains appear to float majestically above the valleys that I passed and as the going got tougher our lovely team that consisted of 7 ponies and a Tibetan refugee pony man, two young Nepalese cooks and a Ladakhi guide who had so much experience were there to make the going easier, (the hardest part was climbing to 5,400m up a glacier!). I was so thrilled to have found the palace in Hundar described in her book although it had sunk a floor into the ground and I have written a report about it for the Indian Archaeological Department so that it can be saved.

I met the Rev Gergan whose family once owned it but did not know where it was and it was his great, great grandfather who had escorted Isabella into the Nubra valley all those years ago and his front garden that she had pitched her enormous tent in Leh to recover from the long Yak ride back. It only left the audience with the King of Ladakh to organise, which she had done as she left....and I had my wish and got a ten minute audience with him at the Stok Palace. Our stories matched at that point, room with carpets, fresh apricots and apple juice served, the Gyalpo hardly spoke.

So I think I became Isabella Bird by the end! I shall be talking about this journey at The Galley Wine Bar at 133 Hotwells Road in Bristol at 7.30 on Friday 26th October in aid of The Stroke Association and everyone is welcome. "

Getting Taken for a Ride

Trip ReportBelinda KirkComment

I'm always amazed when I run safety workshops and ask how many of the audience wear a seat belt when getting into a vehicle in their home country. Without fail everyone raises their hand and some even look at me as if I have just asked a rather stupid question. However, when I ask the same group how many of them wear a seat belt when they travel abroad, fewer than half raise a hand and when I ask how many refuse to travel in a vehicle that isn't equipped with seat belts I'm often on my own.

So why is it that when we travel we no longer feel the need to protect and preserve our own safety? This, despite the fact that in many cases the countries we are travelling to have lower standards of road safety and higher rates of road fatalities than our home countries. Perhaps its the perception that because we are abroad and we often associate this with a positive experience that we lower our guard. Or maybe we view poorer safety standards as being part of the romance of travel.

A when in Rome mindset perhaps. If you think this is just another safety expert having a moan, don't take my word for it, have a look at the stats from the World Health Organisation; Road traffic crashes kill 1.2 million people a year or an average of 3242 people every day. Road traffic crashes injure or disable between 20 million and 50 million people a year. Road traffic crashes account for 2.1% of all deaths globally. The majority of deaths from road traffic crashes (90%) occur in low and middle-income countries. Many of these are the same countries that, we as western tourists and business people, travel to. One of the issues we have is that despite greater awareness about vehicle safety the problem is actually getting worse rather than better.

According to the Burden of Global Disease the outlook is not good and the situation is only going to get worse. In 2004 road traffic crashes were responsible for 1,274,845 deaths globally, making it 9th in the list of causes of death. By 2030 it is predicted that it will rise to 5th and overtake diseases such as cancer, diabetes, hypertensive heart disease and HIV/AIDS. So, whats the solution? In many respects this lies with us. If, as travellers, we continue to accept poor quality ill-equipped vehicles driven by unqualified drivers, who exceed, or ignore speed limits then we are asking for trouble. If, on the other hand, we insist that tour operators and ground agents provide good quality, well maintained vehicles with fitted seat belts and qualified drivers who are adequately rested and not under the influence of drink or drugs, then we are taking steps to decrease the risk.

You wouldn't get into a cab or bus at home if it had bald tyres, no seat belts and the driver smelt of alcohol, so why do it when we are abroad? The problem is that it takes courage to turn away an unsuitable vehicle or driver, because we are concerned about insulting people or being disrespectful. These would seem like pretty feeble reasons if you find yourself in a foreign hospital or worse. On more than one occasion as an expedition leader I have refused vehicles or drivers on safety grounds, and yes, it has at times made me very unpopular. However, I would rather deal with unpopularity than the aftermath of a vehicle crash. As a former police officer I have seen the results of vehicle crashes and trust me, its not a good look. The more people who take a stand and refuse to put their lives in danger by using poor quality drivers and vehicles the sooner the message will start to filter through. Especially when it starts to affect peoples livelihoods. I have seen this in other aspects of expedition safety, where rogue operators go out of business once they are unable to meet the safety requirements and expectations of the paying customer. Its also about education and many people in developing countries simply haven't had the benefit of the training in road safety that we take for granted.

Be under no illusion, seat belts save lives. Fact! However, it some countries this seems to be systematically ignored. A study in Kenya showed that 99% of those injured in vehicle crashes were not wearing seat belts, despite it being law for drivers and front seat passengers to do so. Its not just a case of those in the front seats wearing seat belts either. When travelling in buses it only takes one person not wearing a seat belt to become a human missile. Consider this. A person travelling in a car moving at 30 miles per hour is also travelling at the same speed. If the vehicle suddenly stops (as happens in a crash) the person will still be moving inside the car at the same speed and will continue to do so until something (the steering wheel, dashboard, windshield......... another passenger) stops them. They would hit these objects in the same manner as he/she would hit the pavement falling from a 3-storey building. Being hit by a fellow passenger who weighs say 170 pounds and travelling inside a vehicle going at 60 miles per hour at the time of impact is not ever going to have a positive outcome.

Therefore, everyone travelling in multi-person vehicles has a responsibility to themselves and their fellow passengers to wear a seat belt, but its only through awareness that this message is going to get through. I have worked for a number of organisations who train their drivers not to turn the ignition key until everyone is wearing a seat belt. It is a very simple technique and it doesn't take long for the message to sink in. Its not just cars and buses that we need to be thinking about. Many travellers think nothing of renting a motorcycle or moped when abroad. Yet these machines are responsible for a disproportionate number of tourist deaths every year. According to the British Foreign and Commonwealth Office, 38 people a day die in motorcycle crashes in Thailand alone. That's nearly 14,000 people a year using only one mode of transport in just one country.

There are times in life where we don't have choices, but when it comes to transport and travel we often do and these choices could quite literally make the difference between life and death. Yes, tour operators and employers have a moral responsibility for our safety, but they are often governed by the bottom line. Ultimately, it is up to us as individuals to ensure they comply to the highest levels of safety and if they don't shouldn't travel with them. At the very least you owe it to yourself to speak up and demand safe transportation.

www.lloydfiggins.com

Kukri Adventure Scholarship

FundingBelinda KirkComment

Hi,

I just wanted to give you a heads up on the Kukri Adventure Schoalrship. We have 20,000 fund to give to people who are taking part in an adventure next year, the only criteria are:- You must be over 18 when you start your adventure - You must be starting in 2013- You must be based in the UK or Ireland- You can't be taking part in an organised event. To enter all you need to do initially is make a 2 minute video of why you think you should get some or all of the funding and post it on the KAStab of www.facebook.com/kukrieventsWe have an expert panel to judge the video's and advise the winners including, Mark Beaumont, Sarah Outen and Ken Hames. Your trip can be doing anything, running, climbing, flying, sailing swimming, driving, riding etc. We don't want to hold your inventiveness back so go for it.

Along with the prize money you will also receive Kukri kit, PR support, website social media and technical support. If you get a scholarship place we want to give you every chance of success in your adventure.

The official launch isn't until 8th October so you members of Explorers Connect are getting a head start!For more information go to http://www.kukrievents.com/events/kukri-adventure-scholarship/Good luckCrispin(MDKukri Events)

San Agustin 2013: Sistema Huautla established as the deepest cave in the Western Hemisphere

Trip ReportBelinda KirkComment

Sistema Huautla established as the deepest cave in the Western Hemisphere after a 7 week long caving and diving expedition featuringmore than 40 cave explorers.

Short summary of the expedition: Caving began on Tuesday 26th February. Thanks to a strong team within one week the cave was rigged to sump 1, camp 3 established and Jason Mallinson had relined sump 1 and 2. After another week the rest of the diving, exploration, beyond sump supplies and the four dry tubes were ready at the sump so that a team of 5 divers could spend one week exploring. Jason went through and set up camp 6 on Monday 11th March. The following day the rest of the divers made their way through sump 1 and 2. In total 6 dry tubes worth of gear was dived through with each of the three rebreather divers making two dives. A total of 6 dives were made in sump 9 between Jason Mallinson and Chris Jewell. On the first dive Jason reached -30m in poor visibility. On the next dive Chris reached -48m before ascending to surface in a static pool after 250m. A muddy ascending tube was followed for around 30m.

On the third dive Jason returned to this section with some rope but all passages closed down. Next Chris and Jason dived together with each diver on opposite sides of the passage in an attempt to find the main underwater continuation. Jason found a tunnel leading off the left hand wall which both divers followed down to -60m before surveying out. The final dive was made by Jason who followed this tunnel down to -81m which was the limit of the trimix being used. The final dive reached a point 440m into sump 9. Meanwhile the rest of the team (Mirek Kopertowski, Jon Lillestolen and Rich Hudson) were busy looking for dry passages. The Rio Iglesia waterfall was found to choke after a short distance and short sections of cave were surveyed in Perseverance hall and shortly before the low airspace swim. However long extensions were discovered leading from the back of the sump 9 chamber. These extensions followed the trend of Adams Avenue and in places dropped back down into known cave. In total 1,774m of dry passages were surveyed but no bypass to sump 9 discovered.

One mystery does remain however, when on the last day an undescended pitch was reached. Appearances suggested this would drop into known cave and the team was short of time and rigging gear so it was left. However when we plotted the survey data this pitch was going into new territory. Whilst the diving team was beyond the sumps they were in touch with the rest of the cavers at camp 3 by Nicola radio and teams took it in turns to stay at camp 3 and monitor the radio twice a day. During this period the route up to Anthrodite hall was. On Monday 18th March the diving team returned to camp 3 and a day was spent hauling kit from the sump before most people headed to the surface for some rest. During the following week (week 4) most of the diving kit was carried out of the cave and at the same time photos and videos taken.

Week 5 saw the arrival of our de-rig team and whilst they were getting ready to camp the rest of the diving kit came out. One final camping trip saw the cave de-rigged to the 620 depot. After that several long day trips during week 6 de-rigged the cave completely. In total we estimate that something like 30bags of diving/exploration kit (average weight of 16kg per bag) were carried in and out of the cave.

Thanks to a strong support team of more than 30 cavers from the UK, Canada, US and Mexico all this was accomplished quickly and efficiently. Thanks to our sponsors for making this happen and thanks to the local people who have made us feel very welcome.

More info - www.facebook.com/CaveDive andwww.cdg-exped.org

Sunrise on Mount Sinai

Trip ReportBelinda KirkComment

Sunrise on Mount Sinai Nestled within the southern part of the Sinai Peninsular, Mount Sinai offers an exhilarating climb which rewards you at the summit with some truly amazing views of this mountainous desert region of Egypt. Moses Mountain, as its called in Arabic, stands at 2285 metres and is said to be the place where God passed to Moses The Ten Commandments.

Mt Sinai is seldom the primary reason why one might fly to Egypt, but if you find yourself travelling around the Red Sea, it makes a great day, or more appropriately night side trip. Whilst the climb can be done at any part of the day, the majority of people decide to make the ascent at night in time to watch the sunrise from the summit. Most visitors arrive by organized tours, these are frequent, cheap and by far the simplest way of reaching the start point. Virtually all hotels and camps will be able to organize this. The foot of Mt Sinai can be reached in two hours from Dahab, an additional hour is required if travelling from Sharm El Shiekh. We prefer Dahab's laid back charm to Sharm so thats' where we set out from.The usual course of action will start with a pick up around 11pm, when youll be whisked away through the night desert in what ever mode of motorized transportation your host has acquired for the 2 hour journey.

Arrival time at the foot of the mountain should normally be 1am. The base of the mountain is a hub of activity with traders, shop-keeps and camels handlers all biding for your attention. Here visitors are introduced to their Bedouin guide. Hell explain the biblical significance of the mountain and go over some safety tips. This will also be your last chance to use a toilet for a few hours. Your guide will briskly take lead as you start to climb the mountain, ascending in the dark is truly a surreal experience. With the absence of any electricity and light pollution, the stars truly come to life, meteorites skim the atmosphere, constellations become defined, and the Milky Way twinkles brightly. The sheer beauty of the night sky is best enjoyed while resting, as its best to keep your eyes and touch on your feet while you climb the rocky path to the summit.

When you're not admiring the night sky, you'll be able to see enormous dark shadows which will start to resemble the neighbouring mountains and slow moving beams of flash lights from the hikers below. The gradient of the track frequently changes, there'll be parts where it climbs steadily and others where it zig-zags past steep walls. The route is littered with make shift shacks which sell refreshments and snacks. At higher altitudes close to the summit, these shacks rent out blankets and mattresses as it can get very cold before sunrise. The last such shack or tea house stands just before the final push to the summit begins. This is also where the camel tours dismount. Oh yes if you're not one for putting in the hard work, you can arrange for a camel or donkey to take you most of the way, but be warned riding a camel for a few hours should not be taken lightly. Here you must take the final 750 steep steps up to the summit. The entire climb takes about three hours, here the wind blows fresh and the temperature can truly get crisp so if you haven't brought some extra layers to keep you warm, its well worth renting a blanket. At the summit you'll find a few brave souls who have slept there in anticipation of the morning sun. Most parties arrive well over an hour before sunrise, this maximises your chances of find that perfect spot where you can await sunrise. The summit is home to a small Greek Orthodox Chapel (closed to the public) and a small Mosque still used by locals. The nature of this sacred place means that it attracts members of the Jewish, Christian and Islamic faiths and one can quite often see people reciting ancient texts, praying and singing hymns as the sunrise. Finally, the bell of the chapel breaks the sound of the wind. This signals the official time of sunrise. One day there may be applause, the next a chorus of hymns. How the crowd at the summit react to the start of the day is often as unpredictable as how a day will unfold. As the sun rises into the clear sky, you start to see the shadows fade away as the surrounding peaks start to turn different shades of red and orange. Eventually, its time to make the return journey. Walking back down the 750 steps is necessary, back to the last shack and return your blanket if youve rented one. Now you have to find possible routes back down to normality.

You can now take the same route as you came up and take in the view this time in daylight, or a greatly steeper route aptly named the Steps of Penitence. As the sun rises, so will the heat so if youd rather descend at a faster pace (and many do) aim for the luxury of a shade; the 3750 steps may be more appropriate. The definition of steps is a quite loose, almost as loose as the actual rocks that youll be traversing down, but it is the shorter and more direct route which eventually take you to the Saint Catharines Monastery at the Base of the mountain. Famed as the oldest working monastery in the world and dating back to the 6th century (at this particular location). The grounds are open to the public to use the facilities and purchase refreshments. The actual monastery building opens its doors at 9am, meaning for those wanting to take a look inside, you'll have an hour or so wait, depending on how long its taken you to arrive from the summit.

Groups are allowed to enter every few minutes after listening to a priest explain that taking pictures, talking and making any noise is strictly prohibited. Frankly, unless you have a particular interest in the field, missing a trip through the monastery is no great loss. However, most organised trips factor the monastery in as part of the trip. If you're on such a tour, if you descend quickly from the mountain, you'll have to wait for the monastery to open, be spoken to like a child, be rushed through and then find your transport back at around 10am arriving back in Dahab two hours later. The cost of this entire excursion, including transport, the guide, entrance to the mountain (which by extension to the nature reserve) and entrance to the monastery can be obtained for 120 EL (12). If you're not interested in entering Saint Catherines Monastery you can get this reduced, but be sure that the pick up arrives at a more appropriate time. This is a very fine yet demanding fete, partly the physical effort needed and partly concentration needed in the night part of the climb. When you get back to the shores of the red sea after a sleepless night, you'll have earned a relaxing holiday that most tourists come here for.

Prepare It should go without saying that good walking footwear is essential. Ideally carry a backpack with layers of clothing. It will get very cold at night particularly when waiting for the sun to rise at the summit. However, upon returning, the temperatures increase dramatically. Take a bottle of water and bring your wallet as you can replenish your supplies in the many shacks up the mountain.

Finally, and surprising often neglected by many visitors, if climbing by night, BRING A TORCH. Need to Know There's no need to follow the stereotypical itinerary outlined in the article. If you'd rather have the summit to yourself, you can climb up during daytime and watch a sunset instead and descend at night. Or if you can take the daytime heat, climb and descend in a day. Its worth emphasizing that Mt Sinaiis not the highest mountain in Egypt, neighbouring Mount Catherine with its peak at 2,629 metres is.

www.doinitonline.com

The Murmansk Challenge

Trip ReportBelinda KirkComment

"Exploring our arctic regions can evoke assumptions of expense, precision preparation, and lengthy expeditions through snow-torn landscape utilising equipment reserved for the specialist. The reality is that Europes share of the Arctic Circle is quite accessible throughout the summer months.

The sun shines 24 hours each day, and temperatures can reach 12 degrees Celsius, meaning that the region can be reached even by the fool-hardy. From the people who brought you the Banjul Rally comes the spin-off event: introducing the Murmansk Rally, where amateur adventurists take to some of Europes most northerly and remote roads. Preparation can and that's not to say it should be kept to a minimum. In fact, the only necessary prep work is to obtain a Russian Visa if you're planning on going the full length. Our adventure starts a day behind the official start date (thus behind the rest of the teams). The major benefit to travel with other cars in a convoy of sorts is the security (or perceived security). Should you break down, friendly faces are available for help, moral support, and even a lift.

For us the first leg of the journey was actually from London to Prague by plane to pick up our chosen rally carone wed left with a mechanic six months earlier on an ill-fated rally attempt, buts that's another story. The K (1995) Reg Vauxhall Astra 1.8 diesel rolls out of a storage unit behind the airport, its red bonnet emerging from a black cloud of smoke churning in the confined space. Luckily, it started on the first go! We load up and within minutes head off on our arctic adventure. Of course, the first point of call is a petrol station, and not far off the Western suburb of Prague, we pull in for a quick service. We fill up the tank, check the oil, tire pressure, top up the water in the coolant-tank, pay the attendant, and hastily pull out of there, gaining speed on the single county road. Suddenly, we hear something flying off the car and see a flicker of something in the dark in the wing mirror. Quickly we realise what I had done: Id placed the cap for the coolant tank on the roof. Ops! Breaks are quickly applied, followed by hazard lights as myself and my co-driver jump out. Theres no cap in sight. It must have bounced off the tarmac into the ditch, or into the soft verge overgrown with vegetation. Wearing shorts, I wade through the stinging nettles along the roadside. After about 45 minutes of searching, enduring honks from the traffic flying by and narrowly avoiding being struck, we make the decision to cut our losses.

We leave, deciding to risk driving without the coolant cap and hoping all the liquid within doesnt evaporate before we can find a solution. Nervously driving along, keeping an eye on the temperature gauge, we drive through a town where we luckily find the Czech equivalent to a Halfords store that is able to sell us a replacement. Finally easing into our journey as we race (obeying the speed limits at all times) up north through the Czech Republic, conscious that the last ferry departing Poland for Sweden leaves in eight hours time. The journey is a pleasant one as the Czech motorway twists and turns, passing through the mountainous region of the Sudetenlands before the gradient levels out and we pass into Germany. Enjoying the renowned German motorways, we pass signs for Dresden and, a few hours later, Berlin. Hours of continual driving fly by and as the sun sets, we pass the standard blue EU sign welcoming us to Poland, it and the change of the roads surface serving as the only indication that weve passed into another country.

As darkness starts to set theres little to report back on the scenery here, so I just concentrate on getting us on the ship on time. We pull into the Polish ferry port in the town of Swinoujsci with 15 minutes to spare and purchase our tickets (approx. 170euro - one way for one car + two people). Finally we can relax: it has been an exhausting yet exhilarating day. The ferry crosses the Baltic Sea overnight, taking about eight hours. The ferries are very much what youd expect crossing the English Channel. Cabins are available, but as were on a tight budget we do what so many around us do: lie on the floor in our sleeping bags between a row of seats, crack open small cans of Czech beer, and toast our travel to date before trying to squeeze into an appropriate sleeping position and finally get some shut eye. The ships tanoi makes an announcement in a language I assume to be Swedish, with a further assumption that we have arrived as the next day beginsat 6 AM. We roll out of the ferryour hostel for the nightand drive out of port, map in hand, and ready for adventure.

George my co-driver (who hasnt driven a car in the ten years since he passed his testand I have no intention of changing that during this trip!) assures me he knows which direction to head and the number of the road we need to take. Relatively easily, he navigates us out of town (with the help of plentiful road signs) and onward towards Stockholm! The Swedish motorways are good to us. Theres no traffic, and the roads are well-surfaced with pleasant, green-rolling scenery broken only by a lake. Still a day behind any other British bangers, were loath to stop and actually experience any of this, our feet on the ground only to fill up at a petrol station, check the oil, water, and again almost driving off with the caps on the roof! Hours fly by as the motorway bypasses Stockholm and we see the city skyline, church spires piercing though the urbanity of it all. Here, we joke that its our last chance to come to our senses and board a low cast airline home. Hours of driving fly by, fuelled by determination to make good time along Swedens coastline at the Gulf of Bothnia. The view is almost uninterrupted forest, save for the road, which seems stark by comparison. More and more hours pass and the landscape seems the same as two hours previous.

The feeling of remoteness grows, as well as sadness that my first visit to Sweden is bound to be a fleeting trip confined to the drivers seatyet, in our minds, its crucial to reach another team before we press through to Russia. At these longitudes, the summer days are long with night barely managing to creep in for a few hours. This helps with visibility. As we head farther north, the days get longer until there is no darkness at all. Closer to evening, the repetitiveness of it all can cause fatigue. You're eager to pass something of significance: a border, a town, a river, a taller treeanything that will give some sense of the distance travelled. Finally, a sign for the Finnish border appears. We decide to end the long day on the Finnish side, near the town of Kemi. On the outskirts of the town, we find a small lay-by on the countryside. Its 4 AM, its light out, and weve just calculated that wed driven 21 continuous hours, interrupted only by the inevitable stop to refuel. Were too tired to fluff around with a tent, so we try to make ourselves comfortable in the car, amidst the mess and man-sweat and trace fumes of fuel. Its amazing how much mess can accumulate in a car carrying two men over a few days of driving! I decide to try and lie on the backseat, crawling into my sleeping bag, and wrapping a t-shirt around my eyes to block the sunlight.

My co-driver fends for himself in the front seats. Closing my eyes, the image of pristine, never-ending road seems burned to my retinas, yet I soon fall asleep. Four hours later, around 8:30 AM, were both unpleasantly awoken by flies and midges, which have no doubt been attracted by the smell emanating from the slightly-open car window. Hopping around any exposed body parts, I try in a half-sleep to wave them away, but they are a consent irritation, landing on my lip, my one exposed ear, really anywhere that isnt covered and a million places that are. Theres no option but to admit defeat, so we jump out of the car and prepare for another Le Mans-esque feat. Pesky flying beasties circle us, even beyond the cars walls, waiting for moments of absolute stillness to land on us again. Annoyed and grumpy, we jump into the car, open all the windows, and drive off, trusting the airflow to vanquish any leftover intruders. Our route takes us farther north, though Finlands northern wilderness.

Finland is know as the Land of a Thousand Lakes, and as our route meanders through the wilderness, we feel like we've seen most of them as the sun reflects off the surfaces of these enormous bodies of water through thin green blanketed with forestry. The road skirts the banks of these shores, marked with trees on the other side. Its as if the Finns who laid these roads wanted to treat drivers to a wonderful picturesque scene, maybe even reward them for making the effort to travel so far north and the enchanting idyll is certainly appreciated. Although not too dissimilar from what we've experienced throughout our drive through Sweden, the Land of a Thousand Lakes is somehow more rewarding: the trees seem thicker, more dense and green, and the lakes somehow more large and picturesque and the roads have an unvanquished feel about them.

Relaxed, nearly forgetting our rendezvous with other teams, we casually pull over every so often to stretch our legs, even managing a little toe-dip in a lake. The air is fresh and piney, inviting us to snap pictures at our leisure. Of course, some stops are necessary, for another kind of nature calls to my co-driver; he disappears to do what if many often ask bears do in the woods. I flick through the map and run my finger over our anticipated route along the page. A few minutes later, George comes running back from the sylvan roadside, waving invisible beasties from his body and shouting Go go go! They bite! Its like a scene from a comedy script. We set out as he explains how the swarm of midges and mosquitoes hid in the dark woods, waiting to ambush him at the sound of his belt unbuckling. Its hard to concentrate on driving through the laughter, as George laments that hes been bitten in the most sensitive areas. Mid-afternoon takes us to one of the highlights of our road trip: appearing suddenly out of the wilderness are signs for Santas workshop appear and finally a large sign welcoming us to the Arctic Circle, complete with a line drawn across the road depicting this invisible line of demarcation between the extremities of the midnights sun and the polar night. Taking the obligatory photos of the Arctic Circle sign a must and using our phones to confirm the GPS coordinates is fun, even if the large Santa souvenir shop and cafe ever-so-slightly cheapen the experience.

Deep in Finlands north-country, we slice through the forest on long, single-lane roads, continuing north when suddenly the road widens and the walls of trees, once inches from our windows seem now to be 100 feet away. Unsure what this Finnish road-feature means, I let off the accelerator and coast on the cars momentum. With an examination of the markings, it dawns on us that the massive longitudinal tarmac could be an emergency runway incorporated into the road, and why not if you've got the space! Coincidentally this is where we encounter our first reindeer. These massive, majestic creatures cross the roads calmly, almost oblivious to traffic. This is their land drivers will stop for them, passengers admiring the close encounters until the reindeer decide they've paused long enough, allowing traffic to resume. This also sparks up a discussion on the difference of elk, moose, and reindeer, which becomes a recurring theme in our conversations for the reminder of our trip (until finally settled by Wikipedia upon our return).

As we drive north, our trips progress is occasionally disrupted by a herd of reindeer walking across the road. The sun gleams much longer then were accustomed to, and as we progress to the Norwegian border again without customs or border processwe encounter a simple sign welcoming us to the Kingdom of Norway. The landscape changes subtly for a few miles, but after awhile, much of the forest disappears, giving way to hills, and then mountains. It isnt until late afternoon that we finally catch up to another banger team. After a few introductions and a sigh of relief that we have a ride back home should our car decided to give up, we decide that we can just about make the Russian boarder before it closes at 10 PM. We race through the relatively short Norwegian leg, stopping only to refuel (my co-driver eagerly reminding me not to place the fuel cap on the roof).

Indeed, we make it to the border in time. This is the first real border check, and were prepared for this to be a thorough one. Russia has a reputation for bureaucracy. This, compounded with the fact that old British bangers trying to enter Russian territory through a far off, lonesome outpost not being something the guards come across often, means were in for a proper going over. First we approach the Norwegian customs post, where they check our passports and happily wave us off. A brief, slow, and cautious drive over no-mans-land takes us toward what weve mentally prepared ourselves for. Its strange how simple things, such as foreign border guards, can get the butterflies flapping in ones stomach. Surely the worst thing they can do is deny you passage and send you backor could they arrest you for spying? Its too latewere committed! We exit the vehicles and enter the customs building, all our papers in hand (What papers?! See below!). One by one, we are inspected by the official.

He checks our passports and visas thoroughly before turning his attention our vehicular paper work. Opel? he asks in a firm way, I consider correcting him by explaining its a Vauxhall, but decide this isnt the best time. I approach and pass him the paper for the car. In broken English he explains that I need to fill out temporary import papers for the car and lends me a pen. He continues to explain that our vehicle can stay in Russia for up to six months, however I cannot leave without the car. No pressure, I suppose, as its only 15-years old and has a history of breaking down. I fill out the comprehensive form, and hand it over minutes later. He sighs, passing me a blank formId filled out a wrong field. Oops! Repeat the process, and Ive cocked it up again! Clearly, nerves and the fatigue of driving are catching up to me. On my third attempt, the official is satisfied.

During the paperwork formalities and stamping of passports, our vehicles are being searched by the border guards. Admirably these formalities aren't as difficult as I expected, and in a little under an hour we are allowed to continue on into the largest country in the world. By 10 PM, its been a long day, but we expect to be in the city of Murmansk in a few hours where wed finally be able to check in to a hotel and have a shower and treat ourselves to little comfort or so we thought. Indeed, Murmansk in only a few hours away from the border, providing you take the correct road and not the unfinished motorway which prematurely erected signs suggest is open. The final push to Murmansk is a demanding one. However, to call this the worst road Ive ever driven on is unjust, as the road has not actually yet been laid. Rather, its a very wide mud track, where land has been cleared in preparation for the road to go down. With no idea how far the track went on for, after a few hours, we are sure well reach our destination after the next gradual bend or hill in the clearing. Yet each horizon only exposes nothing new.

The sun disappears behind dark clouds, yet its still light out, which helps. In the early hours of the morning, tiredness really takes a toll as we struggle to concentrate on maneuvering the car though the path of least resistance, progressing truly at a snails pace as we avoid holes, bumps, and scraping the undercarriage. Each vibration and knock helps to prevent the danger of sleep kicking in. Its the fear of what damage we must be doing to our car that delivers true insomnia. A light fog lines our route and the surrounding moorland, almost like a smoke machines be left on, providing eerie feel to the drive. Hours later, we finally come across tarmac, and though it is completely riddled with pot-holes, we can finally increase our speed and make actual progress to Murmansk. The route takes us over an old, metal-framed bridge spanning a powerful body of water.

As we near the other side, Murmansk comes into sight. This city, home to some 300,000 people, is an architecturally interesting place. Surrounded by forested hills on one side and heavily industrialised on the water-front with a sea port, the city is positioned along a wide sea inlet on the bay, some 12 km inland from the Barents Sea. The horizon holds a truly stark contrast of naturally lovely landscapes and large, grey, Soviet-era buildings. Theres little in the way of touristy stuff to see and do in Murmansk, but wandering through the city is an experience itself. Crossing large boulevards, walking past massive concrete structures with facades depicting the classic communist hammer and sickle is arresting. Some of these buildings are clearly in a severe state of disrepair, and as with so many Russian stereotypes, statues of Lenin aren't difficult to find.

When the sun shines, its surprising how many different shades of grey are noticeable around the city. I begin to feel strangely attracted to this domineering city, like a flower blooming amidst this vast concrete jungle. There is a museum for those interested in the regions art, history, or proud shipping and naval heritage. A worthy place to visit is the nuclear icebreaker docked nearby, where guided tours take you through the worlds first nuclear-powered surface ship. Overlooking much of the city is the Alyosha Statue, a massive 30-meter tall statute of a soldier, which is accessible by car. Accommodation in Murmansk is not really tailored for those on a shoestring budget, so do not expect hostels or bunk houses. Instead, there are hotels which cater to business men.

Nevertheless, you can still find decent offers, like the city's Park Inn. If you're after a pub, you may struggle a bit. That's not to say there aren't any just that they're not easy amidst the sea of grey communist exteriors. Its easy to mistake the local pub for just another housing block. But its fun to get lost in the town and to ask locals to point you in the right direction. The younger people here can be very friendly and eager to practice their English. After a short conversation, they're happy to help, suggesting the best places in town. 

Crossing the Makgadikgadi Pans in a home-made wooden go-kart

Trip ReportBelinda KirkComment

Crossing the Makgadikgadi Pans in a home-made wooden go-kart By Ben Freeth Like all the best expedition concepts, this was an easy one! My young sons, Joshua (12) and Stephen (10) decided to make a go-kart that would sail and could be used on an expedition to raise funds for the Mike Campbell Foundation.

So, with some cheap Zimbabwe pine, a few tools and some bicycle wheels, we made the vessel. On a windy Sunday, we found an empty car park in Harare and sailed it up and down the tar using a pre-1980 Optimist dinghy sail that had proved its worth in innumerable regattas. The vessel went at great speed and it was rather fun but we all felt that the expedition had to be over more than a car park! We looked at a map and discussed the possibility of the Makgadikgadi salt pans located in northeastern Botswana, southeast of the world renowned Okavango Delta. Surrounded by the Kalahari Desert, the Makgadikgadi is technically not a single pan but many pans with sandy desert in between.

They didn't look too big on our little map, but we were unsure how our rather holey made in Rhodesia sail would stand up to a howling August wind in that unforgiving wasteland southwest of Zimbabwe. It was then that we hit on the idea of powering the go-kart with a kite. It would obviate the inevitable sore heads from the low swinging boom that scythed across the deck - and it would give a lot more room for the three of us to perch on our little craft. We made a few successful wheel modifications using extra bicycle wheels and car inner tubes that would allow our weight to be displaced over the thin salt crust of the pans. Then, after some rather hairy self-taught kite flying trials at home and on the beaches of Mozambique, during which we became prone to levitating at considerable heights, we felt we were ready.

The Meteorological Department in Gaborone, the capital of Botswana, was very efficient and gave us all the historical wind records showing the direction and wind speed in August. We set off, confident that we would storm across the pans with the galloping fury of being harnessed to a span of the areas famed wildebeest and zebra that range across the area in Africa's second largest wildlife migration. Unfortunately our back-up team was not up to full strength. I discovered that my little daughter Anna's passport had expired and we could not get a new one in time. So my wife, Laura, opted to stay behind with Anna while Granny Claire, my mother, who was out on holiday from England, would do the honours of sending us off and hopefully! receiving us at our intended destination. Day 1 We arrived at Sowa pan and were amazed it its immensity. It stretched out like a great vast ocean before us flat, featureless and, like the sea, clearly unforgiving.

There was very little wind but before my last sip of tea, made on a fire the boys had got going from the reflector of my torch, Josh said, Lets go! We assembled the go-kart, tied down our 50 litres of water and some other scant essentials, and made sure the map, GPS and compass were safely on board. Now the go-kart, which wed named the Mike Campbell dune dancer to raise funds for the Mike Campbell Foundation, was ready. There was only a slight wind, but we got the five-metre arching span of the kite pumped up and launched . and then we were away. It was high drama sailing out to Kukonje Island in the sun, dust and wind. At times we were going faster than the boys could run after they had launched the kite. With the wind behind us we had to use our rudimentary brake system copied from a traditional ox wagon, to stop the go-kart from catching up with the kite which was twirling ahead in fierce figure of eight loops. The setting sun cast dappled light across the pan and the dusty salt billowed behind us as we careered along in a westerly direction.

The African stars are famed throughout the world but out there on a moonless, dry Kalahari winters night, the stars are at their most magnificent. To lighten our load we did not bring a tent so we camped out under those stars - close to Kukonje Island. Lying on my back in my sleeping bag on the surface of that vast pan and looking upwards with my binoculars, I counted about 150 stars just within the four imaginary lines that enclose the constellation of the Southern Cross. It made us feel very insignificant. Beyond, in an uninterrupted view that stretched to every horizon, there was no light, nor any sign of man. We were nestled in the folds of the unending silence, completely alone. I spent many hours caught up in the excitement of it all, looking up into the vast and vaulting heavens, watching the shooting stars. Day 2 The wind took a while to pipe up next morning and so we did not get going until late. Eventually we were off on a reach, battling to get the dune dancer really singing because the wind was not strong enough and the direction was not ideal. Soon the wind dropped completely. We stopped and sheltered from the intense rays of the sun under the scant shade of the kite while we ate lunch.

Our exhilaration ebbed considerably as we discussed the possibility of pushing our craft westwards so as not to waste time. The lifeless pans are no place to linger. I attached a bridle rope to the steering axle and strode out in front while the boys pushed on from behind. We crunched over the surface of the pan for the rest of the day, panting and sweating profusely with the exertion of heaving our craft along. It was not unlike a great snow field where the surface has been melted by the sun and then frozen to form a crust that is broken with every foot fall. Then in the distance we saw what looked like an abandoned vehicle out in the echoing loneliness. Inching forward, we were drawn towards it, fascinated by something that broke the bleak, barren profile of the flat expanse. As we drew closer, we realized it was a rock but it was no less intriguing on reaching it to see that other creatures had also discovered it, as if drawn by its magnetism.

At its base we found owl droppings, a few feathers and faded springbok spoor On and on we trudged, becoming one with the empty reaches of salt and sky. We passed the bleached remains of a zebra skull and then a little further on a horn bills skull and leg bones. Stephen found a fossilised grasshopper and then an entire bird a starling I think desiccated and white. This place is scary, he said. As the sun dropped towards the rim of the horizon, we walked on into its receding rays. Light shone through multiple holes in the pans crust where it had lifted from the mud. It was as if the whole surface had come alive with tiny illuminated subterranean passageways of golden light and shadow beneath our feet. Checking our bearings, we headed for another rock and reached it just before dusk. This one was about 20 feet across and a foot and a half high. It was somehow comforting to camp beside such a solid, ancient feature. I introduced the boys to savory pancakes a great meal when water is scarce. It was cold and we snuggled into our sleeping bags, thankful to lie down and sleep after a long and wearying day. The boys commented that it was the first night that they had ever slept out in the bush without a campfire for there was nothing remotely suitable for kindling in sight. The GPS indicated that we had another 26 kilometres to go before we reached Kubu island. Lets get going early, Josh said, even if there is no wind. Day 3 Somewhere close to the rock a cricket started to sing. It didnt continue for long, but it was amazing to hear the sound of a living creature in that place of emptiness and death. We thought it must be pleased to have company at its lonely island.

After a little while it stopped and then some time later started again, only to fall silent soon afterwards. After a cup of sweet black tea we headed off. With each step forward, cricket rock gradually disappeared behind us and once more we were all alone a tiny little speck of a vehicle in the great white sea, the only object breaking the surface. It was breathlessly still but at last we felt a slight breeze spring up and so got the kite ready only to have the wind disappear again. In the still, early morning our long shadows stretched far ahead, like a path. They were the only point of reference in that barren, empty wasteland with its unbroken horizon. As we pushed on, our shadows marched in front of us then moved slowly around to our left until, as the day wore on, they were finally behind us. We felt like three sundials telling the time to the surrounding empty white infinity. There is a certain discipline about moving onwards towards nothing.

The wheels turn around and around, while your tracks stretch back towards the starting point. After a while all conversation stopped as we focused on pushing, placing one foot on in front of the next into the great unchanging beyond. To relieve the monotony and keep up morale, we decided to break up the journey and stop for five minutes every two and a half kilometers to rehydrate. After a slow pushing plod of nearly five hours, Stephen, always scanning ahead, sighted an island swimming on the horizon. There was great excitement and we steered for it, thankful to have something tangible to aim towards. It seemed to be floating above the surface of a still sea which reflected its shape in the glassy water. At noon we finally came upon the low, barren island which was about 40 metres in diameter. Strewn about were thousands of carcasses of dead flamingos, mostly juveniles. They looked like fossilized dinosaurs bleaching in the sun. We moved on. The surface was harder now, without the crunching crust. Do you want to ride on the dune dancer? I asked Stephen. No, I will carry on pushing, he said wearily, although I could see he was getting tired. I would prefer to push rather than pull, I said.

Can you steer us on the right compass bearing? He assented and we pushed on, ever westwards, towards the unbroken horizon until dead flamingo island disappeared behind us and we were all alone again. I found it easier to push, and with the hard surface we started to make better time. The crust was only a few millimetres thick and our feet slipped periodically on the mud underneath. It was a clear that a vehicle would immediately be bogged down if it tried to cross this section of the pan. Scattered here and there on the surface were unhatched flamingo eggs. At one of our stops I took out the ginger bread that Laura had made for the trip. It was sticky and moist and quite warm from the unrelenting heat that was making us sweat so profusely. We all agreed it was the best ginger bread that we had ever eaten. Subsequently Josh declared that Everything we ate out there was the best food I have ever tasted! Eventually, with 16 kilometres of pushing still stretching out before us, a small, dark island appeared directly ahead. We stood up on the wheel arches like meerkats in the early morning sun, craning our necks and peering through the binoculars.

This put a fresh spring into our mechanical steps and we moved forward with a new surge of speed. Slowly, ever so slowly, the island came closer, its floating form reflecting itself in the glassy mirage. Gradually, imperceptibly, hour by hour, the diameter of the reflection decreased until eventually the island settled on the surface and through the binoculars we could see trees and rocky features punctuating the skyline. Finally the landscape took on the appearance of a vast expanse of sea at low tide, with Kubu Island, like Robinson Crusoes island, devoid of people but with signs of life. We noticed a dry stone wall and clambered up to it. Stretching for several hundred metres, it is thought to be an outpost of the Zimbabwe complex of enclosures and it was eerie to think that people had once lived in this place. We discovered porcupine spoor, then a raven greeted us.

Look, two people, Josh said. We stared at the strangers through the binoculars and, as they drew closer, I walked out to meet them. Hello Ben, the man said, are you looking for Claire? We realised then that we completed our crossing of the pan and that in this weird place with its ancient ruins and gnarled, other worldly baobab trees - different to any baobabs I have seen before we were back in civilisation! It was clear the with the lack of wind that there was no time to journey on to Chapmans baobab to the northwest as planned, but decided it was a challenge we could possibly take up another time. With special thanks to Granny Claire who met us at the end after many, many hours of driving over the dusty, trackless and dangerous wastes of the Makgadikgadi. And thank you to all those who donated towards supporting the Mike Campbell Foundation on this expedition, we are most grateful for your support. Our target was 10,000 and the amount raised so far is 5,125.32, which is very encouraging.

If anyone else would like to contribute towards the expedition fundraiser, please go the Just Giving website, its very quick and easy. www.justgiving.com/Mike-Campbell-Foundation The Mike Campbell Foundation is a charity working towards the restoration of the Rule of Law in Zimbabwe. It is committed to seeking redress for the gross human rights violations committed against some of the now poorest and most vulnerable people in the southern African region. We will continue to strain forward towards the goal. Ben BEN FREETH E-mail: freeth@bsatt.com Mobile: +263 773 929 138 (Zimbabwe) "

Desert Expedition Medicine Course

Trip ReportBelinda KirkComment

This is about my exciting experience in the Namib desert, where we practiced desert expedition medicine course. I am a Paediatrician by profession and currently working in Great Ormond Street Hospital as part of my paediatric rotation. But expedition and wilderness medicine is my hobby. I participated in several high altitude expeditions in the Himalayas and attended the jungle expedition medicine course in Costa Rica in 2011.

Desert Medicine Course, Namibia June 2012. 15th June, Friday: I boarded BA flight to Frankfurt from Heathrow terminal 5. The flight was at 4 pm. It was one and half hour journey. There was extensive security check before boarding the Air Namibia flight to Windhoek. The flight to Windhoek started at about 8 pm. Dinner was served quite late, especially my vegetarian dinner; Video was not working. There were many German tourists in the flight. My row was empty. I had a quiet and refreshing sleep. Breakfast was served an hour before landing. 16th June, Saturday: The flight landed at Windhoek at 4:30 am. There was a queue at immigration counter.

But it was smooth. The immigration officer asked my departure date, and then allowed me to go. I exchanged US dollar for Namibian currency. I got 610 Namibian currencies for 80 US dollars. The Windhoek airport was small, only a few planes standing in the airport. Outside temperature was 2 degree C. The sky was clear, sandy terrain, mild wind and shrubs here and there. I took a taxi to Kalahari Sand Hotel. The speed of taxi from airport to hotel was average 120 kmph. At one point, another taxi crossed my taxi with a speed of 140 kmph. It was a smooth highway, desert on either side with shrubs and bushes. There were alert signals on the road as wild animals cross the highway. I reached hotel by 6 am. Taxi fare was 180 NC, although I was told to pay 280 NC at the airport. I reported at the hotel counter and collected my keys to my room on 10th floor, 1002; had a cup of tea, went to toilet, went to have breakfast at ground-floor, then went to sleep. In the afternoon, I unpacked and then repacked my expedition kit.

I went to the local supermarket in the afternoon, a 10 minutes walk. Came back to hotel; had my dinner and then watched a movie on TV Eagle; the story of a Roman Legionnaire. I called Heikki at night. We attended the jungle medicine course in Costa Rica together. He just finished the Wild Medicine Course. 17th June, Sunday Today, meeting with other members at 10:45 in the hotel lobby I had my breakfast with Heikki and paid hotel bill. Saunders, Martin, Heikki, Sundeep and Catherine arrived. I also met Luke from Devon. He is a GP and just completed the Wild Medicine Course. He was not going to attend the Desert medicine Course. He was going back to UK. Clare from London and Estera from Australia arrived. Keletso Nyathi, the cheerful Zimbabowan doctor also arrived. His wife Barbara came to say goodbye. Journey started at 1 pm a 5 hours journey in a caravan cum bus. Korbus joined our team in the midway. He is one of our instructors. A trawler was also picked up with all our ration and water. The journey went along the National Highway. We saw baboons and gazels on country side. Our caravan went through wide valleys, dry terrain, meadows, rocky hills and mountains. We reached our campsite after sunset.

It was at the foot of a rocky hill. Our tents were erected; makeshift toilet and kitchen were built. It was pitch darkness and pin drop silence under the vastness of starry sky. The sky was full of unknown starts and cosmos it was southern hemisphere. The temperature was dropping rapidly after sunset. Within hours it was shivering cold. We had our dinner in the heat of camp-fire, then the introduction phase. Dr Sundeep Dhillon, our chief instructor, went through our plan for next few days. I started shivering; went to my tent to change to warm cloths and entered my sleeping bag. Although woke up several times, I had a refreshing sleep. 18th June, Monday I woke up early in the morning, before sunrise. I went to climb the rocky hill to view our camp from height and watch the sun rise; came down to the camp to have warm breakfast. Hiking started through dry grassland. We saw ostrich and Kudu on our way. We saw snake trail on sand and a dwarf tree with leaves having medicinal value. We then crossed a rocky hill and stopped under the shade of trees for GPS training and how to find direction in the wilderness using compass or even using shadow or wrist watch in the absence of a compass. We then trekked to the Ugap river valley dry sandy river bed, water flows under the sand. Water level is visible when it rains.

Green vegetation along the river bed was seen due to the abundance of underground water. It was a favourite place for wild elephants to roam. Water purification procedure using different gadgets and techniques was taught by Sundeep and Korbus. Faan drove the van from base-camp onto the river bed through a different route. Folding tables and chairs were opened and ready lunch was served pasta, cheese, bread, oranges, fruit juice (meat for others as I am a vegetarian). After lunch, we discussed theoretical aspects of medical emergencies in desert, dos and donts in the wilderness etc. Faan and Korbus told about their experience with difficult situations story about a trainee having shoulder dislocation and how some trainees accidentally freed a captive snake. The lunch camp was dismantled. We returned to base camp using GPS. We crossed green vegetation and shrubs on Ugap river valley. There was wild elephant dung everywhere. We crossed rocky hills and vast open terrain. In the camp, wilderness medical kit demonstration was performed by Dr Dhillon. He also shared his personal experience. We also discussed about our own personal experience. Stopping haemorrhage is the priority before airway in the wilderness. He also demonstrated different items used by military doctors.

After the lecture, we went for a mini hiking around the base camp. We went into the surrounding hills. We enjoyed sunset from hill top. There were abundance black rocks with metallic tone scattered within the background of brown hills and landscape. They looked quite unusual. They were possibly from asteroid hitting the earth surface. Keletso told us about the White Lady Cave; There was painting of a white lady was discovered in one of the hidden caves. It was very ancient and mysterious. The white lady was surrounded by people painted in black. It was a mystery who this white lady was whether it was an alien or a Shaman among local tribes. We came back to our camp; chatted for an hour. Heikki was not around. We found him in his tent. Dinner was served. During and after dinner, there was a long discussion on aliens, adventure movies, about our jobs etc. After dinner, there was a lecture by Dr Dhillon using slide projection on infectious diseases in tropic. Images were projected on the back of our trawler. It was pitch darkness around and very exciting. It was an interactive lecture. It was only 8.30 pm, looked like midnight. The sky was full of unknown stares and constellation. I just kept staring at the beautiful sky for hours standing alone in the darkness. Pin drop silence in the valley. I saw shooting stars flying across. 19th June, Tuesday I woke up by 5.45 am. After toilet, went out to explore.

I went to the other side of the rocky hills behind our camp. I sat on a rock to start writing. Splint and carrying device demonstration was done by Dr Dhillon. After breakfast, we started our days hiking. It was a more treacherous journey. We saw baboons sitting on hill tops. We passed through mountain and valleys, uphill and downhill and through cliffs. There were screaming alerts of baboons. In a valley we discovered a skull of an unknown carnivore with big incisors, like a carnivore or a sabre tooth tiger and also herbivorous teeth. It later came out to be a skull of a baboon, possibly hunted by a leopard. We had to cross a cliff less than one foot wide. It was difficult to cross with my back-pack. Heikki helped me to cross. We went further down in another valley.

There was a field lecture on radio-communication by Dr Dhillon. We were divided into two groups to practice radio-communication with each other. My shoe was hurting. I was getting slow. We saw pug mark of a leopard. A whole family of baboons were watching us from the hills. We crossed wide valleys and hills. It was a dry land, resting sometimes. We walked for hours through the dry land before reaching the dry Ugap river valley with green vegetation around. After crossing the green lustre, we reached the sandy river bed. Faan already brought the caravan and opened the folding chairs and tables and prepared the makeshift lunch camp. Before our lunch, we practiced fire lighting; we used techniques like flint technique, lens, and bushmans technique. I had to open my shoes and walked bare footed as my shoe was hurting. After lunch, there was demonstration of satellite phone.

The temporary camp was dismantled. We started walking using GPS towards our base camp. After dinner, we started chatting around camp fire. It was dark with the sun set. It was freezing cold. We had a mini lecture on star gazing. It was comfortable only within the rim of heat around the camp fire. We were getting closer as the temperature was dropping further. I remember the constellation of Scorpio. There were other constellations which I cant remember now. It was an amazing night.

20th June, Wednesday

There were snake and scorpion demonstration after brake-fast. The maximum people dying from snake bite in southern Africa were due to the bite of Puff Adder which has got cyto-toxic venom. The Horned Adder was haemotoxic. It was only a foot long and brown coloured. The Cape Cobra was about 4 feet long with golden yellow colour. The spitting cobra was also about 4 feet long with alternate black and white stripes. Two scorpions were demonstrated. One was looking awful covered with reddish hair and dangerous looking sting at the end. Its toxin was fatal, people die immediately. The other scorpion, although venomous, was looking less awful. Clare and then I picked up the second scorpion to play with. It behaved appropriately, crawling on our hands. We were told not to touch the other scorpion as it could be fatal.

We then played with the python on our shoulder. We had photo sessions with it. Both the puff Adder and the horned Adder, when released, decided to come towards me. I was bit worried when the puff Adder was crawling towards me and I jumped to a safer distance. With the horned Adder, I was a bit bold. I stood quite to see what happens. I came towards me and made a coil to rest under my shade. There was demonstration of milking venom from horned Adder and its effect on blood. Blood was drawn from a vein of Dr Dhillon and poured into two different containers. Then the milked poison was added to one container. After half an hour, the container without poison was found to have the clotted blood, where as the container with venom, the blood was found to be liquid still. Our base camp was dismantled. Now onwards we would hike through desert, halt at night in the open desert and hike further next day. We started our journey; came down to Ugap river valley, crossed the green lustre of the river valley and entered into a jungle of thorny plant. We were careful about wild elephants. There was elephant dung everywhere. As we approached, we noted commotion into the jungle - one huge sized Kudu and its calf came running out of it and climbed the hill next to the jungle and disappeared. It was not easy to move through the thorny bush land. We all started bleeding from thorn injury. We then started climbing the hill. In the middle of the hill, in the shadow, we stopped for a break. It was a safe place with full view of the valley. After break, we started climbing the hill again and went to the other side. It was like a plateau of dry land and rocks with minimum vegetation.

The sun was getting hotter. We set our GPS co-ordinations We came down the plateau, entered another dry river bed next to a mountain range. We saw plenty of foot print of wild animals on the sandy river bed. It was quite an eerie feeling there. On the right hand side, there was the mountain range and on the left, the high land. The dry river bed was in between. We stopped for a while to set up our GPS co-ordination and then started again. After crossing the terrain we reached an open stretch of vast rugged landscape. There were bushes scattered within the landscape. The leaves were long and slender and thick. They are called poison bush, as the secretions from the leaves are deadly. The juicy secretions could burn the skin or even cause corrosion of the oesophagus if ingested. All animals except the rhinos avoid these bushes. Only rhinos are able to digest the leaves. We walked through the vast open landscape for another 2 hours before reaching our designated latitude and longitude. Faan already drove through this place left our ration and drinking water hiding behind a poison bush. It was not difficult to find out as we were in a group walking in a straight line vertical to the direction of walk. The makeshift camp will be here. We choose a place behind another poison bush, as it would cover our back from most of the wild animals. There were more bushes and dry vegetation scattered in that area.

After this, there was an open stretch of dry grass-land. We saw some ostriches grazing in that grassland. We put our rucksacks down. Faan was called over the radio. He arrived in his caravan. There was demonstration of fixing a broken caravan in the middle of wilderness; the rear wheel of the van was lifted using a jack, a coil of rope was wrapped around the wheel and then the rope was pulled heavily by all of us to roll the lifted wheel. As the wheel started to roll, the engine started automatically. This is useful in a situation where the engine ignition was not possible due to mechanical failure. Camp setting was started. Jobs were distributed amongst us. Heikki and I wend to dig toilets behind another bush, about 30 metres from our campsite. The toilet was dug and toilet codes were explained to everyone. The sun was set in the horizon. The cold was creeping in the valley along with the setting darkness. Again, we, few creatures from other parts of the world, were spending another night in the middle of desert vastness under the vastness of starry sky. It was a different feeling, a feeling of humbleness. The vastness of dark sky and the vastness of desert made us feel how small we were compared to the universe. Humble dinner was prepared with tinned food, warmed on our campfire.

After dinner, we discussed our next days plan and gossiped for a while. As my digital camera running out of battery, I had to take snaps using my manual camera. Now it was time to prepare for sleep. There was no tent. We had to sleep under the open sky. I opened my polythene sheet, sleeping bag and orange coloured survival bag. I purchased the survival bag before my jungle expedition in Costa Rica in 2011 where it was hardly used. It would be a difficult night to spend in the freezing cold, the temperature dropping every minute. I wrapped up myself with all sorts of warm cloths I had, entered my sleeping bag which was already kept within the survival bag on the polythene sheet. It was really difficult to fall asleep. It was uncomfortable not only in the openness, but also a feeling of insecurity and eeriness. I am sure other also had a similar feeling except Heikki. Heikki was sleeping not far from me and within minutes I heard his snoring, which, in the middle of night could be mistaken as the roaring of a lion. 21st June, Thursday I woke up in the morning with the sun rise. The sleep was not very deep at the beginning but had a better sleep early in the morning. My survival bag was wet. The sleeping bag and the liner were also moist but less moist as within the survival bag. Fire was lighted again with dry wood. Morning tea was prepared as well as the breakfast with corn flakes, milk powder, sugar and hot water on mess tins. We were ready for the days hiking. The camp was dismantled. Make-shift toilets were covered with sand. We started our journey through the dry valley.

We crossed a dry grass-land to reach the mountain range. We crossed the mountain to reach the valley on the other side. It was again a dry land with dry grass and shrubs. This valley was known to be the grazing land of rhinos and elephants. We looked for any movement from the mountain top for any movement and descended into the valley only when were safe. Elephants were unable to chase uphill. But the story is different for rhinos. They are more dangerous as they can chase up hills. Rhinos can cover 60 km in a single night. We came down into the valley. It was a sandy terrain. The land was filled with all sorts of animal foot-prints. Korbus taught us how to track animal foot-prints. Best time for tracking is either in the morning or in the afternoon when sun is in the horizon. That helps to see the animal tracks much clearer as the shadow is elongated. The factors which affect the tracking include sunlight, wind, and direction of food source, shade etc. Rhinos have poor vision but excellent smell and hearing. That is why the way to survive if a rhino is chasing is to lie down in the ground rather than running.

Bush people are the best people to track wild animals. Korbus and Faan worked in the black rhino project, protecting the wild rhinos. They taught us how to track rhinos two persons needed for tracking; first person would look for rhino foot-prints and mark them while the second person would stand behind and look for possible dangers. Tracking the poachers is different from tracking wild animals. 3 persons needed for tracking poachers like the shape of V. The first and third persons look around for possible dangers while the second person tracks foot-prints. While tracking through grass-lands, look for bent grasses for the direction of animal movement. Tracking is very difficult in rocky ground. Cheetahs usually have marks of nails in front of their pug-marks as they cannot retract theirs nails whereas a leopard foot-print doesnt have marks of nail in-front of it. Elephant foot-prints have corrugated lines radiating from the centre resembling the corrugated skin underneath. Ostrich foot print has marks of a single nail in front of it. Ostrich kicks forward while running which can kill even a lion. White excreta belong to hyenas as they can crush bones. Baboon marks resemble like the palms of a human baby on sand. The big 5 in the desert are elephants, rhinos, lions, cheetahs and leopards.

We crossed the valley, looking carefully for wild animals. Generally they avoid human beings unless rabid. We started climbing the next mountain range; stopped for a while for little break under the shade of a tree to eat dry fruits and water. There was a tree up in the mountain with hugely wide trunk known as Moringa tree. We started climbing again to reach another valley filled with rocks and dry shrubs. There was another mountain range after the valley; we started climbing using our compass; the top was grassy which looked like a green road from a distance, from previous mountain range. We started climbing down a rocky cliff with mountain on either side. This was actually a dry waterfall. The surface was very very uneven, filled with boulders and rocks; very dangerous to climb down. We descended into a wide sandy valley. The sun was really getting hot; the weather getting dry. We walked for an hour through the sandy terrain.

There was a Bushmens village at a distance. We found few scattered trees after an hour with lots of dry elephant dung scattered. We decided to rest under a tree. We had to be careful as it was a favourite place for ticks. Fire was lighted with dry wood to prepare hot tea. After resting a while Martin and I went to the nearby hill top after walking about 20 minutes. We called Faan over radio to ask about the GPS co-ordination of our destination; then came back to our temporary camp. We started our journey again using our GPS. It was again walking through the sandy terrain. We discovered Faan hiding behind a boulder on nearby hill top. The terrain was getting hotter. There was another mountain range in front of us. We discussed whether to go around or to cross the mountain. We all agreed to go across. It was rocky uphill with dry shrubs and bushes.

There was danger of stepping on snakes. We found another valley after reaching the top. Unlike the previous valley, it was a dry grass land. From the hill top we found Faan crossing the valley. He already left our companion and crossed the mountain through some short-cut. The valley was about 500 metres wide. There were two parallel mountain ranges on the other side of the valley. We saw Faan disappearing in between the two. We came down and walked through the dry valley with bushes and shrubs here and there. Korbus stopped us after we crossed the valley. He arranged a funny game to spit dry Kudu droppings as far as we could; he reassured that the droppings were harm less, as made up of grass only and being sterile in the desert heat. He himself did the first attempt to reassure us. I ranked second. After rest for a while, we started again through the narrow valley in between two parallel mountain ranges. We discovered the tyre markings of Faans caravan on the ground.

The tyre marks went around the second mountain range. In the middle of the valley we debated whether to cross the second mountain range or to go around it. Ultimately the decision was to go around the valley. Martin and were at the front guided by our GPS. We walked another hour through dry sandy terrain to reach the other side of the second mountain range. Although we were blindly following the tyre marks, Martin noticed that the GPS was pointing towards left into the grassland away from the direction of the tyre markings our water and other items were hidden behind a bush. After walking another 10 metres we discovered the place. We called other members. We discovered a nearby place without any grass. It was a favourite place for zebras to roll over and relax. Although it was a good place for camp fire, there was risk of tick-bites.

Anyway, fire wood was collected to light camp fire. Chris and I went to dig toilet holes behind another bush. Faan taught us how to measure distance in the wilderness. Looking from high to low ground, the distance seems to be increased; whereas the reverse happens, i.e., the distance seems to be decreased while looking from low to high ground. Sundeep taught us how to measure approximate sun set timing each finger equals approximately 15 minutes. We all opened out rucksack. It was the second night in wilderness. Sander and Chris discovered the carcass of a hunted springbok behind a tree just 20 metres away from our camp site. It was a dried up carcass. It was possibly hunted by a leopard or a cheetah. The neck was fractured and bent backwards, the hind legs were torn away. Abdomen was opened and eaten up to the chest. It was also eaten up by hyenas and jackals. It was a dangerous place for night halt, but we had no other choice. Estera and Claire began to cook tinned sweet-corn, packets of beans and beet-roots, noodles, roasted nuts and raisins and biscuits. After dinner, Sundeep arranged infectious disease quiz. Weather was getting cold very rapidly. Just outside the rim of fire, it was freezing cold.

We prepared our sleeping places. Chilling cold wind was entering the valley through a cliff of the surrounding mountain. Korbus reassured that the wind will stop blowing after sometime which actually happened. It would be the last night in the wilderness. No one was willing to enter the sleeping bag. Also there was a hidden fear of wild creatures roaming around. We already heard howling of a baboon from the mountain. The carcass of the springbok was lying very close to our camp. After infectious disease quiz, we started another quiz on our knowledge of geography. Everyone would have to name a geographical place, city, ocean, river or mountain and the next person would name another one starting with the finishing letter. It was very interesting, continued for next 2 hours. We discovered that most of the places were ending with a, d, n, e, i or y. Very minimal number of names were ending with p or b. The game continued until 22.15.

The fire started to cool down. It was deeply silent valley; starry sky above, darkness outside the rim of fire. Howling of baboon reminded about the presence of wild creatures, chilling cold wind, carcass of the dead springbok all made that night an unusually eerie night and quite uncomfortable. I opened up my emergency shelter sheet. After clearing the ground with shovel, I spread it on the ground. It was secured from blowing wind with rocks. I opened my emergency shelter bag and entered within it with my sleeping bag. This was done lighting my head torch next to a bush. Keletso was sleeping on the other side of the bush. Claire moved away from her original position. I looked into the starry sky and very soon went into deep sleep, forgetting the eerie environment we were staying. 22nd June, Friday I woke up early in the morning. The head end of the sleeping bag was outside the survival bag and was completely wet with dewdrops. I fall asleep again. I woke up again when the eastern sky was getting red and stars were fading.

It was freezing cold. I came out of my sleeping and survival bad and went to the fire. Heikki, Estera and Sundeep were already there and lighted up the fire. Others also came soon. Boiled water was served to prepare black tea; then breakfast with porridge, sugar and milk powder in hot water for breakfast. It was already 8 am. Heikki reminded that the starting time would be 8.20. I packed up my rucksack quickly and went behind a bush for natures call. I heard Faan was driving the caravan towards our camp. After toilet, I covered the pit with sand and handed the shovel to Clifton. I lost my compass in hurry, although I had another spared one. I came back to the camp site. Everyone was ready to move. I went back again to look for my lost compass. Surprisingly the terrain was so confusing that I was totally confused where I went for toilet. Hiking was started again.

It was 8.30 am; sunny day. We walked through the sandy valley for an hour. We were following the tyre marks. I was walking faster than others. Korbus called me from behind; asked for a toilet roll and disappeared behind a bush. We started walking again. We stopped after 100 metres. Korbus was calling us from behind, giving us hand signal asking us to return quickly as someone was bitten by a snake. Claire and I ran immediately. Heikki was lying behind a bush. Others also arrived soon. It was a scenario on medical emergency. It was a snake bite over right leg. Right leg was exposed, bandaged, immobilized using a splint. Heikki was laid on the ground, log-rolled over a mattress. 6 people would carry the casualty to our van, waiting about 500 metres away. We halted several times to exchange hands or change sides. Within half an hour, we reached our van. Apparently, the wheels were stuck into the sand and engine was not starting. The rear left wheel was elevated using a jack. The wheel was made to roll using a flat rope and by pulling. The engine was started again. Champagne was served. It was the end of our strenuous training. Now it was the time to return to civilization. Our rucksacks were loaded into the caravan; we also boarded. Faan started driving. We drove past the sandy valley, rocky landscape, dry grasslands and vast landscape. It took nearly 2 hours to drive past the desert. The caravan was driving at the speed of 80 kmph. We saw few springboks and a lone giraffe on our way. We also drove past grazing goats of local Bushmen. Their guard dogs were chasing our van.

After nearly 2 hours drive, we reached the main highway. The van stopped for a while at a petrol station and for refreshment. We already had our packed lunch in our caravan sandwich, apple, and chocolate and fruit juices, all labelled from South Africa. We all fall asleep in our long journey. We started at about 10.30. By 4 pm, after more than 5 hours drive at the speed of 80 kmph, we reached our destination, a place to stay overnight near civilization Okahandza guest house, at the outskirt of Windhoek, about 100 km from Windhoek. We crossed more than 400 km to reach civilization. We unloaded our luggage. It was a natural environment within the desert. It was a single storied lodge.

There were few scattered trees with wild birds chirping, African arts at the entrance. We went to the reception to collect our room keys. Cherry wine was served in small glasses. Chris and I shared a room. I unpacked my entire luggage from my rucksack and went for shower. At 6 pm, we all met at the bar. I had coke, others had wine. Claire sponsored drinks for us. We went to the dining room for dinner. My starter was with a mushroom preparation and main course was with Pasta. It was getting cold again although there was a burner in the dining hall. We had gossips and photo sessions in between our dinner.

After dinner I went to my room, others went to the bar. Chris came back after sometime as the bar was closed. 23rd June, Saturday I woke up at 5.30 am; went out of the room with a cup of tea. Sundeep was going towards dining room. I called Sundeep in our room and offered a cup of coffee. Estera was ready to leave. We all went to the dining room for breakfast. Estera left in a hired car. We all packed our luggage and came to the reception area after an hour. We had another photo session. We loaded our luggage in the van. Our journey started towards Windhoek; reached Kalahari Sand hotel by about 11.30. Barbara was waiting for Keletso. Clare left for airport in the same car.

We carried our luggage to the reception. The reception kindly agreed to keep them. We went out for a tour in the city. We got separated. We went to a huge shopping mall. It was a lovely and well maintained city within desert. The population mostly is African with some descendants of the early European settlers. Keletso invited us to his house. He took me and Heikki to his house. It was within a well maintained and well secured flat complex on the slope of a hill. We had our lunch. We discussed a lot about Namibia, Zimbabwe, how Keletso managed to escape from Zimbabwe to Namibia, Robert Mugabe and so on. By about 4 pm Keletso dropped us to Kalahari Sand Hotel. He went to attend a delivery. Chris was waiting in the reception.

We collected our luggage. Our van which we booked in the morning didn't arrive. The hotel staff called a taxi to airport. It took nearly an hour to reach the airport. Me, Chris and Heikki went together. After security and immigration check we entered the waiting area. The flight was at 9 pm, the Air Namibia flight to Frankfurt. The flight was uneventful except some mid-air turbulence. We reached Frankfurt next morning. Heikki disappeared to catch his flight to Helsinki. I and Chris had cups of coffee. We had to wait to catch our flight to Heathrow. It was one and half hour journey to Heathrow where Chris and I separated. The flight landed at Heathrow by 11.30.

This is my story about desert expedition.

Discover Syria's Dead Cities

Trip ReportBelinda KirkComment

Syria is currently experiencing severe political unrest. The FCO advise against all travel.

Scattered along Syria's North West region are the remains of a past civilization, long dead and forgotten. Its claimed that 40 ancient Christian Byzantine settlements dating back to between the first and the seventh centuries make up Syrias mysterious Dead Cities. Surprisingly, yet somehow quite fitting, the modern world has forgotten about these incredible and well-preserved ruins. Even UNESCO, it would seem, has overlooked these sites up until 2011, when they were finally recognised as a world heritage site. With relatively little archaeological research conducted in the area and many questions unanswered, this is the time to allow yourself to wander off the beaten track and immerse yourself in history.

The majority of these cities are concentrated around and between the modern cities of Aleppo and Hama, making either of them the perfect base to explore these settlements. If youre on a tight deadline or just interested in a whistle-stop tour it is perfectly easy and affordable to sign up on excursion or hire a driver who can take you around the more obvious sights of interest. If you have the time, hiking, cycling and even driving through these sites gives you the freedom and flexibility to explore these dead cities at your own pace. The peaceful landscape provides a great opportunity to simply wander through these ruins, sit down for some lunch, maybe even taking in a nap. Most of these fabulous ruins have been left to fend for themselves against the elements (and put up a pretty good fight), adding to their majestic charm. With no designated walking paths, no keep-of-the-laws signs, no entrance fees and best of all no health and safety, visitors can get right up and personal with the walls and columns which stand proud across the countryside.

This also makes it perfectly viable to wild camp in the grounds of the past surrounded by almost 2000 years of history as you gaze up at the night sky as the ancients may have with only the orange glow of your camp fire reflected by the ancient grey stone walls and the crackling of your fuel to keep you company. Over hundreds of years, some of these ruins have found new inhabitants as the modern civilisation of Syria have reclaimed some of these buildings for themselves and their farm animals, but there's plenty for everyone to share, tourist and local alike. The reality is that its unlikely you'll stumble into someones front room. Its somewhat strange that much of the population nearby don't know the significance of what lies across their landscape. Nevertheless, the people you come across will be welcoming and friendly.

While some of these cities may be more renowned than others and guides will highlight certain places to visit, there's little need set yourself a particular goal or dwell on reaching a certain site. Its worth buying a local map once in Syria and plan your route once there, and with 40 to choose from, its doubtful you'll see everything.

Don't be to disheartened about only visiting a small fraction, as you'll be part of a relatively small handful of visitors that make it to this part of Syria, which will truly be an unforgettable experience. The cities often highlighted to visitors include: Church of Saint Simeon, Stylites, Serjilla, Khrabe Shamass and al Bara.

www.doinitonline.com "

Blue Beauty

Trip ReportBelinda KirkComment

Sudden movement flashes under the canopy of waves, her silver side reflecting brightly in the sun as she passes quickly just below the surface from bow to stern. Get in now Amanda! You're only going to have a couple minutes. Go! How big is she? I asked, but the answer I did not hear.

Fear of losing the encounter trumped the fear of the unknown as I eased myself into the water, ducking under the chum bucket and up along side of the boat; camera in hand, I was ready to shoot. The waters off Rhode Island are quickly becoming a shark diving Mecca, being one of a few key destinations around the globe where you are almost guaranteed encounters with two very distinct and beautiful species of sharks; blue sharks and makos.

This is largely in part to underwater filmmaker and Rhode Island native Joe Romeiro of 333 Productions. Joe has been documenting the behavior, movement and hot spots of these sharks for years, and has quickly become the go to expert for professional cinematographers and photographers worldwide who seek footage and encounters with them. A chance encounter with these large pelagic sharks are not only sought after by photographers alone however; every year thousands gather on docks and off the coast to participate in shark fishing tournaments held in New England's prolific waters. Although shark fishing tournaments continue to rally support in the Northeast culture, conservationist groups have been outspoken in the need to end such practices in other locations. In the Bahamas and Florida for example, many tournaments have switched to full catch and release models and now support Shark Free Marinas; where no dead shark is allowed within their boundaries. In an environment where shark numbers are declining at an alarming rate, moves to protect these animals prove invaluable to the welfare of the oceans.

This leads to the question, Why arent we fighting to protect the sharks of New England? Positioned tight against the side of the boat I scan the water column for a glimpse of the legendary fish that has brought me here, the mako. Known for their speed, agility and unyielding poster in the water, makos are high-energy powerhouses that can grow up to twelve feet in length and weigh over eleven hundred pounds. At an estimated top speed between fifty to sixty miles per hour makes this shark is one of the fastest fish in the sea and within seconds of entering the water I find myself face to face with one. A flip of her tail jettisons her towards the boat and in my general direction, but she is completely disinterested the lone diver she shares the water with. Fixated on her every movement I track her in a nauseating trail of twists and turns.

Eventually she turns, following the oil traces back to the boat and comes in fast to explore my dome port. I cannot help but shriek in delight as I watch her close the gap of space between her and I at an astonishing rate. My time with this beautiful mako is a painfully short five minutes, but I savor every moment. Mako sharks come in hard and fast, a stunning swim by, a couple exploratory nips and they are gone. Brian and Joe work the bait hard from the boat, twisting and pulling it through the water to keep her interest. Still positioned close to the boat as Joe had recommended, I pulse in excitement as she comes blazing in toward me over and over. Fire after fire my strobes light up the ocean as she darts around my dome port in a crazy swirl of energy. She is stunning, a beautiful site to behold. Shimmers of iridescence; brown, blue, purple and violet dance across her back and along her sides under dappled sunlight as she effortlessly moves through the water.

She is not without scars though; across her side she bares the painful marks of an encounter with another shark. Short lacerations ending in a gaping wound sprinkle her side. Pink flesh stands exposed as she twists and turns through the ocean. Perhaps due to her size, around four feet, she was attacked by a larger mako or other shark species; or these were simply mating scars, but her unrelenting power is unmistakable. With one small thrust of her tail she powers through the water zipping from one bait fish to the other on either side of me. Makos can reach speeds of twenty two miles per hour and are known for the short, but quick burst of speed. It becomes quickly apparent to me why Joe wants my back up against the boat. Her lightening speed makes her difficult to follow, and her forward gapping nips from an open mouthful of protruding teeth could lead to serious ramifications very quickly if she had so chosen. These sharks are not for the faint of heart. Encounters with this species are fast paced, adrenaline filled gut checks that demand you give the shark a healthy amount of respect while in the water with them. Twisting and turning, heart throbbing, mind racing, darting fins and flashing teeth all dissipate in a matter of seconds as she makes one last sweep and darts off straight down into the depths of the Atlantic Ocean.

Sitting there motionless, I stare down into the depths hoping for another glimpse of her, but she doesn't return. My time with her is over. The ocean gives us these gifts, these encounters that I cherish with every fibre of my being. Whether its the five minutes I spent with her, or the hour long encounters I've experienced with whale sharks off Isla Mujeres, these animals never cease to amaze me. Every moment spent in the ocean with the immense diversity of marine life leaves me eager for more. I come away from these experiences forever changed and longing to fight harder to protect the oceans and all the life that lives within them. In an amazing twist of fate I received word from Joe two weeks later that my mako has been spotted twelve miles from the location we first encountered her. To the best of his knowledge this is the first ever known double sighting of the same mako in these waters. This news is all the more exciting knowing a local shark tournament started the day after my departure from Rhode Island in the same area we were diving in. In honor of this joyous event Joe proclaims I should name her. I choose Nani, which means Beautiful in Hawaiian.

The waters off the coast of Rhode Island are magical. On previous trips Joe has encountered countless blues and makos; basking sharks, leatherbacks, mola molas, hammerheads, tiger sharks and more. Frequent sightings over the last few years of white sharks in the area have lead researchers and photographers to Rhode Island in search of this species as well. The wealth of marine life in this area can serve many generations to come with opportunities in interacting with the Mother Nature on her terms. As divers, ocean enthusiasts and neighbors on this small planet, we must take it upon ourselves to protect the oceans that hold these vast amounts of ceaseless treasures within her bounty. Without education and protection we stand to lose a vital component to the health of our aquatic eco systems.

Learn more about Amandaby visiting her website atwww.acottonphoto.com"