Having been ‘ambassadored’ by the good folks of Wend at the back end of 2009, I made it a resolution to touch base and give my first official ‘hello’ before January was out. I failed – January won. But here I am now with my first hello to Wend and a plan to say hello to the World.

Ocean #1

Before introducing you to my next expedition, I thought I should tell you about my first ‘Big One’. It involved me rowing my little boat from the land of kangaroos and koalas across the Indian Ocean to the home of the dodo and rum punches, Mauritius. The journey took me one failed attempt, over 4,000 miles rowing, two broken oars, 500 bars of chocolate and 124 days at sea.

It was epic and wonderful – in those four months alone on the ocean I was both terrified and amazed by the power and beauty of the sea – it is raw and elemental out there. One day might see a peachy sunrise over a glassy calm sea and the next might be transformed into a raging monstrous mess of towering giants, waves as tall as multi-storey buildings. Being such an intimate voyeur of the daily spectacle of life was both intense and incredible – I surfed down waves with albatrosses; a troupe of pilot fish became my friends; I was visited by whales three times the size of my boat and I often rowed beneath the colander skies of the southern hemisphere stars. It frequently left me speechless and it has left me yearning for more.

From the ocean to the World

Having spent all those days tracking out over the vast blues of the ocean, I wondered what it would be like to do the same over the green bits on our globe, only on a bike. I spent hours dreaming of different countries and environments, the other oceans and life on the waves again. My mind turned to journeying over both green and blue bits, with the whole planet on the route plan.

Starting in 2011, I shall set out from London to circumnavigate the globe, under Sarah-power alone. My rowboat, a bike and a canoe – no trains, no cars, no engines, no planes. ‘London to London: via The World’.

More to follow on this and other cool happenings another day.  Meanwhile, nice to meet you iWend, I look forward to meeting you, World.

Salty best,

Sarah

www.sarahouten.co.uk

Follow on twitter: SarahOuten

Earth Lodge: an eco-friendly mountain lodge that doubles as an avocado farm and humanitarian outfit, is the ultimate traveler’s escape, at 6000 feet above Antigua, Guatemala.

With an impressive view of the surrounding volcanoes, the eco-lodge has a secluded location where backpackers and daytrippers like to hang out and exchange stories. Swing in hammocks, hike around the area or hole up in your treehouse (I did all three) – staying here alone is already an experience on its own. The biggest draw for some, is its famous homecooked vegetarian meals.

Owners Drew and Briana welcome volunteers willing to exchange discounted boarding to help out at the lodge’s reception. During my stay there, I met several volunteers from the US and England, who were picking avocados in the day and cooking by night.

As well as running the lodge and farm, Drew and Briana are very much involved in the local community, particularly the village school. From humble beginnings (donating 1Q of every Happy Hour drink) they have progressed to providing sponsorships so that more children can attend school, getting running water to the school and educating the children on recycling and sustainability. Visit Briana’s El Hato School Blog to read more about the school and how you can get involved.

Visit their website at Earth Lodge Guatemala.

Follow me on twitter @WildJunket.

Rough day on the motu with my big brother.

For four years we had talked about a rendezvous aboard Swell, but the timing had always been wrong. Then suddenly, there was my beloved big brother descending the steps of the plane right before my eyes!! Not only had he made the trip on ultra short notice, he’d managed to bring me a jib sail and heaps of goodies in a rolling bag so big I thought the rest of the family might topple out when I opened it.

We eased our way into a carefree trip around the islands. I had managed to incubate an ear infection while teaching the local kids to paddle on my surfboards in the polluted water near the boatyard at the annual boatyard holiday party, so I needed to take it easy the first day or so. But after a couple quiet days, I thought we’d better get going, seeing as I had only 10 days to show him some of French Polynesia.

And so we were off, navigating inside the lagoon to the other side of the island. The sun lit up the greens and turquoises from a cloudless sky and we grinned at our good weather fortune. My mind flashed to the new chain that was all tangled inside the chain locker. I looked down at the depth gauge: 125 feet. Perfect… we’ll let a bunch of chain out to let it untwist, then pull it back up again. In my ear-achy, slightly hurried state, I failed to properly think the procedure through as I wrenched off the bolts that held the chain cap to the windlass. With the cap on, I couldn’t get the chain to come out of the locker because it was so twisted underneath. And so, without further thought, I removed the cap and proceeded to release the chain with the clutch of the windlass. Without anything to slow it now, it ran out quickly and fiercely. As I reached in to tighten the clutch wheel, it jumped off the windlass entirely! I instantly realized what was about to happen and panicked, crying out above the thundering sound of the chain. My brand new chain was roaring, unchecked, like a runaway locomotive to freedom in 125 feet of water! I hadn’t secured the end to the boat, as I had meant to splice it to the rope as soon as I had a chance… I cried out again in despair.

“Let it go!!!!!!” James yelled back. Together at ages 9 and 11, we had witnessed our friend, Ian, lose his finger to an equivalent incident. Visions of Ian’s severed finger in a pool of blood kept me from really trying to grab my precious chain. Instead, I tried fruitlessly to stand on it to stop it. Then suddenly, the entire 300 feet had run out and silence fell over the scene.

I stood stunned for a moment in disbelief, then ran full-till to the GPS to mark the exact point of the accident so that, hopefully, we could recover it. James hugged me and I apologized, and we circled while deciding what to do next. I called my diver friend, Manuelle, but she was away on vacation for a week and with my ear infection, I couldn’t…

“Leave it.” I convinced myself. “It’s going to be there next week and I don’t want to compromise my time with James.”

And so while James navigated us south through the lagoon, I rushed to rig up another anchor with a short piece of old chain and splice a thimble on the anchor rode. By the time we arrived at our remote destination, it was nearly sundown. We made our way through a tight passage in the coral to a perfect patch of sand in eight feet of water. Despite what felt like a tragedy, I had only a pulsating blood blister on the bottom of my foot. I was nearly sure that I’d recover the chain, and so we cooked up fei bananas and toasted to being together while the blue moon rose over the whispering palms of the remote motu islet. Moonbeams illuminated the shallow lagoon, bopping and leaping and twirling across their sandy underwater dancefloor. And I did my best to rejoice in the moment rather than dwell upon my stupidity…

Sun setting as we go into the third round effort to properly align Swell’s engine.

And so despite that Jesse had probably hoped to spend his brief pass through town out enjoying a blue lagoon somewhere, I had no choice but to tackle the engine repair before my brother arrived the following day! We pulled off the stairs to survey what we were up against…

The engine was definitely high… way too high!? How could the mechanic have thought that it would work like that? Never mind that now, he was on vacation and there was nothing to do but try to fix it. I begrudgingly pulled out the tool boxes from under the nav station and we got to work. We loosened the bolts and I attached the main halyard like usual to the engine and raised it off the mounts to remove the small spacers that the mechanic had inserted to hold the engine off the place where it had been ever so slightly touching the engine pan. (Which the mechanic believed to be the reason I had broken two sets of motor mounts in less than three years.) I lowered the engine down again and we tightened it all back up and started the engine. Could it have really been that easy?

No… still much too high.

“Now what?” I pondered.

“We could cut out a piece of the fiberglass just under where the engine is touching?” Jesse suggested.

“Brilliant!” I agreed, “Hmmm, how? Too tight for the hand saw, chisel? Hmm… the dremel!!”

And so we set to carving out the area where the body of the transmission slightly touched, then put everything back together again.

Still too high!?? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Apparently, the new motor mounts had been aligned higher than the old ones… careless mechanic!!!!!

And so, what were the options? Drill out the motor mounts so that the engine sat lower? But that meant drilling through ¾” steel and wait… my drill batteries were both dead.

Hmmm…

“We could remove the spacers under the mount feet and cut them in half?” Jesse suggested.

“Brilliant!” I thought. “They’re aluminum. That’s soft enough we can cut them with a handsaw!”

And so we commenced attempt number three, raising the engine and removing the mount feet. We had to pull off hoses running between the water tanks and reach into the awkward little holes to access the nuts of the mount feet. Next, Operation Score and Saw commenced. By scoring the 4” plate at the middle and holding it in my vice, we sawed slowly through the plate, taking turns as darkness fell and mosquitoes nipped at our ankles and backs. I went for headlamps and some bananas and bug spray.

It was nearly 11 p.m. when we finally got everything back together. But it was PERFECT! The shaft was centered beautifully in the v-drive, and the engine wasn’t touching the hull at all… we’d done it!! Covered in aluminum shards, dripping sweat, and scratching at fresh bug bites, we high-fived as the engine spun smoothly in reverse at the dock. YAY!!! The next morning I thanked Jesse profusely for his help as he got in line at the airport. Less than 15 minutes later, my big brother James came into view on the tarmac.

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After two years of planning, traveling, filming and editing I recently premiered my latest film, Nature Propelled, at the Wild & Scenic Environmental Film Festival in Nevada City, CA. Good times! Surrounded by some of my closest friends and a large group of inspiring people that contributed so much to the film and to the Elements Tour last year, we cut loose and celebrated.

I am particularly grateful to actor Sir Patrick Stewart, the narrator of the film, for traveling from London to introduce Nature Propelled at the Saturday night screening. The crowd was also treated to a set of music by Will Benoit and Garrett Duffy of Barefoot Truth, the phenomenal band that supplied most of the songs and the score used in the film. We were lucky to have them there as well.

To create Nature Propelled I tracked the life cycle of water through the seasons for a full year to highlight the connections between the elements, renewable energy, adventure sports, and practical ways that individuals can use these elements to power their lifestyles. Through its themes of adventure, education, and conservation, Nature Propelled aims to motivate and inspire the next generation of environmental activists and stewards.

The film will continue to play at film festivals throughout 2010. A DVD will be available March 15th.

Check out www.naturepropelled.com or www.facebook.com/elementstour for the latest Elements Tour news.

Aluminum Each bale of aluminum weighs 1200lbs, and scrap aluminum averages $0.90/lb. From this facility, there is about a 2% margin of error (meaning plastic contaminant) in the final product.

The Sea Dragon crew took a recent field trip to the local MRF (materials recovery facility). The Bermuda MRF is a new, multi-million-dollar, state-of-the-art facility and we got a private tour by island recycling guru Vanese Gordon, Education Officer for the Waste Management Section of Bermuda Government’s Department of Works & Engineering. Pictured below are some of the materials brought into the center, some shown as they arrive, and others in their post-processing incarnation, ready to be shipped and sold.

There’s a great deal of recycling mystification in Bermuda — residents aren’t sure what is and what isn’t recyclable, and there’s skepticism that recycling happens at all. The Bermudian government launched a publicity campaign in 2007 to educate the populace about recycling. Dubbed TAG (tin, aluminum, glass), it instructs residents on which materials are recyclable (what is colloquially called ‘tin’ is in actuality steel, but admittedly, SAG isn’t quite as catchy). These materials do not burn in the Tynes Bay incinerator so must be processed through the MRF.

The campaign seems to be working — the facility currently receives about 25 tons of residential recyclables and 7 tons from the commercial sector per week. The plant is almost entirely automated – it’s so efficient there are only five employees and it takes just four hours to process one week’s worth of Bermuda’s recycling.

Now that TAG has been suitably established into the local idiom, the real question is if Bermuda’s waste recovery business can confront the islander’s recycling cynicism, which is arguably a greater challenge. Here’s hoping that more Bermudian residents and businesses jump on the recycling bandwagon.

Have you ever wondered what happens to your aluminum cans when they are recycled?

Google Maps insists that I can pass through the Brooklyn Navy Yards on my way from Williamsburg to Dumbo.

Google Maps is a liar.

The thoroughfares of the yards are hidden behind chain-link fencing, guarded by drive-by sentry booths, walled off with steel gate covered in weathered plank wood and sunk deep in the overgrown ground. I’m not allowed in; the uniformed security folk glare furiously at me when I weave briefly through an open gate before regaining the bike path. Instead, I follow the length of the crumble on two wheels, neck craned like a frustrated spectator, veering onto the sidewalk and straining to see what’s there — the growth of weeds and the grandeur of old stone, visible in flashes beyond the fence.

The glimpses I catch are sad, and shameful. Read the rest of this entry »

Flying from the Eiger, in Switzerland.

Remember, this is illegal in American National Parks. Why? An excellent question.

Visit to Tynes Bay Waste Treatment Facility Yesterday we visited the Tynes Bay Waste Treatment Facility in Bermuda, by far the most interesting field trip we’ve taken ourselves on.

By my standards, Bermuda seems a relatively environmentally-conscious country: they have stiff anti-litter laws and automobile restrictions such as single car per-household and engine size limits, shoppers carry reusable cloth bags to the market, kids bring stainless steel water bottles to school, every home uses a rainwater catchment system, and there are frequent community-wide land and marine cleanups spearheaded by Bermuda’s litter-awareness ambassador organization, Keep Bermuda Beautiful .

In a recent trip to the local waste management facility, I learned that Bermudian garbage is conflagrated in a municipal mass burn incinerator that produces 15 million kWh of electricity annually. In the subterranean bowels of the machine, I walked past the garbage cinerarium kindled with oranges and reds and couldn’t help but think of Mad Max’s Underworld, where methane from pig shit generates electricity for Bartertown.

Cinerarium Use of an incinerator reduces methane emissions from landfill (methane produces 21 times the GWP of CO2) and reduces reliance on fossil fuels to run plants and transport garbage.

For all their efforts, Bermudians still have a per-capita carbon emission of 9 tons per year (still much less than the US national average). The environmental concerns nearest and dearest to Bermudian’s hearts are coral reef health and waste management. Until the implementation of the garbage incinerator in 1994, all of Bermuda’s garbage was going to landfills, most notably the airport dump (still used for cars, appliances and construction waste). On such a small island (Bermuda is not only the most affluent but also one of the most densely populated places on earth), landfill is not a cost-effective approach to waste disposal and the dump was nearing capacity.

Incinerator at Tynes Bay Converting Garbage to Energy at Tynes Bay Waste Treatment Facility, Bermuda

Plastics are 15% of what the incinerator burns, and the electricity produced amounts to 5% of the island’s average need.

If we agree for the sake of argument that waste is a non-avoidable result of high-technology industrialized economies, what is the best way to deal with our garbage?  Environmental and social costs have engendered a need for a novel approach to waste management. The incinerator waste-to-energy model seems like a viable solution, especially on a small island with open space as a limited resource. Positive impacts of incinerators include less reliance on fossil fuels, less landfill, and the potential for energy production.  To what extent could this technology provide an overall alternative to landfill and the ineffectiveness of plastics “recycling?” In the ragtag, post-apocalyptic future, we’re going to have to find a use for the waste we’ve generated in the 21^st century and beyond – perhaps Bartertown and Tynes Bay can offer us a solution.

Beach Debris Beach debris from fishing vessels washed up on Nonsuch Island

Stiv Wilson, my crew-mate on the voyage of the Sea Dragon, a 72′, 45-ton research vessel on a sailing expedition across the Atlantic Ocean to research marine debris in the Sargasso Sea, has been temporarily called away from his post aboard the ship so I will be posting the details of our working layover in Bermuda for the next six days.

The Sea Dragon is in port at Bermuda until January 28 before setting off on the second leg of our expedition which will take us across the Atlantic Ocean to the Azores. While here, the ship and crew are engaged in efforts to share our work with the community and to better understand how the island manages its own waste stream.

After a happy evening of marina BBQ with Stiv’s deliciously grilled Speckled Hind grouper, polenta, and many beers shared with our gracious hosts, several of us took the Lorax (our trusty dingy) across the harbor to the Bermuda Institute of Ocean Sciences to share several rounds with some of the researchers at their campus bar “The Passing Wind.” BIOS is a nonprofit marine research and education center with a faculty of oceanographers, biologists and environmental scientists, as well as graduate students researching all aspects of ocean health.

Early this morning we were picked up in a fishing boat up by members of the BIOS crew to talk to a group of kids onboard Spirit of Bermuda, a beautiful wooden schooner sail vessel. Outreach and environmental education is provided on the ship by the nonprofit organization Bermuda Sloop in week-long programs attended by every Bermudian 13-year old. We had lunch on the boat with the kids and accompanied them on a very cool snorkel trip to both a WWII shipwreck and the reef systems around Nonsuch Island (home to the almost-extinct Cahow bird, the cacophonous screeching of which frightened sailors at night and gave Bermuda the nickname “Devil Island”). The plastic debris we collected in the reef and on Nonsuch Island was an unexpected gotcha-moment for some of the kids – Anna and Marcus’ talk on our consumptive habits and the implications of our throwaway society became suddenly and surprisingly relevant.

snorkel

Special thanks to the expedition’s sponsors and partners, including BlueTurtle, Pangaea Explorations, Surfrider, Keen, Aquapac, Patagonia, EcoUsable, Quicksilver, Proof Lab, EarthLust and BookBrowse.