…simple words, but priceless

6 O’clock am Tuesday morning I woke up in my downtown Seattle hotel room, walked in to my bathroom and had a shower to get ready for work.  However, my morning routine was interrupted when I noticed that I missed a call from my dad whilst in the bathroom.  He was 8 hours ahead of me in the UK, but knew that I was in the U.S. and knew the time of day – the call was obviously urgent.

I rang dad back and (without going in to unnecessary details in this blog post) he told me that my nan, 81, a lovely lady who was independent, and last time I saw her just as alive and outspoken as ever, had been given just a few days to live.

I don’t know if it was shock, or something else, but for some reason dad and I both analyzed the situation and decided that it didn’t make sense for me to fly back to the UK as I may not make it on time anyway.  We spent about an hour on the phone, discussing various options and hung up feeling satisfied that we had discussed the situation and made the right decision.

After putting the phone down, I walked to the bathroom mirror, looked at myself in the mirror, thought about my poor nan suffering, thought about the pleasure I heard in her voice last time I called her from my travels, thought about how my late granddad took peace in the fact knowing that my parents and I were there to look after nan, and heard a sudden screaming from inside my head saying…

What the *!#$ are you doing?!?! Get back there NOW!

In all honesty, I am not sure if it was me screaming at myself, or my granddad pleading with me from another place, but either way, I knew what I had to do.

Needless to say, less than 12 hours later, thanks to a very kind boss to whom my parents and I will always be grateful, I was back on a plane and on my way home.

I eventually arrived at the hospital just before 2pm, just over 24 hours after my dad had originally phoned me.  Being greeted by my teary eyed mum as I walked through the door was enough to make the 4000+ mile journey seems as insignificant as a bus ride in to my local town. 

Nan was laying in the bed of a private room in the hospital, noticeably weak and poorly.  Seeing her struggling eyes open and her hand reach out to be held when my mum said “Chris is here mum”, was at that moment more important than anything in the world – to both me and her…The true meaning of priceless.

Thankfully, my lovely nan spent the next few days surrounded by friends and family who loved her.  Unfortunately she couldn’t speak to us, but she was certainly kept entertained, whether it was my dad teasing her with jokes and making her smile, my mum reminding her that we were all there to look after her, or random friends from her street popping by to fill her in on the neighbour’s gossip.

My nan has lived alone for 8 years since my granddad passed away.  I was sometimes worried about her being at home on her own (my parents had offered for her to move in with them, but she refused), however after seeing her neighbours and other close friends, get rides from friends to the hospital on a daily basis just to come and see her for 30 mins, I realised that she had her own, special extended family in the small cul-de-sac where she lived for nearly 50 years.

It was only in the past few days that I figured out a way to sum up my nan.  She was an independent dependent…

She never worried about what she said.  She would talk to anyone.  She made friends with everyone.  If you left her in a room full of strangers for an hour, you would walk back in to find one of them bringing her a cup of tea, another listening to stories about her family, and another rushing up to tell you how she has been doing since you left her.

Whilst being very strong willed and independent, it was also very important for her to have close family and just as close friends around her as much as possible.  She loved to share her stories as much as she loved to hear the tales of the people around her.  She loved to show her neighbours photos of my mum, dad and I at every opportunity.  She loved her weekly bus/shopping trip to Chatham high street and the ‘natter’ with her shopping friends.  She loved to hear about the latest news every time I phoned her.  She even loved to announce to anyone who was around her, every time she had to apply her eye drops.

Put simply, she loved the people around her.

She was socially independent (way more so than me), but also highly dependent on the people she cared about to feel a purpose and to be happy.  At least now I realise – this is what made her so special.

After a few days in the hospital, we brought some photos from her house to place next to her bed.  As we held up photos of me, my parents, and my late granddad who she loved so much, I saw her eyes open and light up more than I had seen at any point during the time she had been ill.  It was clear from the look in her tired eyes, that something as simple as seeing photos of the people she loved was more important than anything else in the world.

Just after midnight, on the 27th February 2012, my dad realized that it was a special day, and he started singing happy birthday to my lovely nan, who had survived a stroke for nearly two weeks in order to reach the amazing age of 82.  She looked peaceful and too sleepy to react to our birthday wishes, but we knew she could hear us.  She knew she had made it.

Three hours later, nan had her beloved daughter (my mum) sitting to her left holding her hand.  I sat next to my mum, perched on the arm of the chair as she held my nan’s left hand.  My dad sat on the opposite side of the bed, holding my nan’s right hand.  A few hours in to her 82nd birthday, surrounded by 3 people who loved her, and who she loved just as much, my lovely nan mustered up the strength to open one of her eyes, just to let us know she knew we were there, and to see us all for just one last time. 

Nearly two weeks of worry, thousands of miles, sleepless nights, tears, hugs, stories, get well soon cards, birthday cards, befriending nurses, hospital restaurants, difficult phone calls and of course lots of fighting from my brave nan, determined not to give up…

In that moment, nothing else mattered.  Surrounded by people that she loved, we knew that my nan heard the final words from all of us, to her…

“Don’t be scared, we are all here nan”

x

I woke up at 3am (thanks to jet lag), caught up on some work, had a bath, got ready for the day, checked the time of sunrise online, did a little Facebook, listened to some Rebecca Ferguson (for some music flashback from Australia), and still had about an hour to wait for the sunrise.

The temperature was below zero degrees celcius.  My room was rustic, relaxingly quiet, with hints of luxury such as a bedside ipod dock, a real fireplace and a Jacuzzi bath big enough to feel lost in.  I sat in one of the arm chairs in the room, dressed in my jumper and jeans, left the heating running and opened the double doors overlooking Lake Washington.  Feeling the mountain cold air breeze through the door was refreshing and incredibly uplifting – in a natural high kind of way, similar to other occasions when experiencing an unfamiliar weather combination for the first time in a while.

At about 6:30am, the sky started to show a hint of light, so I attempted to walk quietly out on to the creaking floor boards of my balcony, breathed in the icy air and enjoyed watching the beautiful array of colours which proceeded to light up the mountains, lake and the wooden ski lodge style balconies between me and emerging sun. 

A wonderful, unique, totally unexpected and unforgettable start to my day.  The photos say the rest…

We had chosen to head to Hyde Park, as they were setting up large screens to let the crowds watch the wedding.  We had assigned picnic duties to ensure that we had enough food and drink.  My assigned items were Champagne and strawberries .  Jo and Ed had prepared sandwiches and a host of other food, plus they also brought another 2 bottles of Champagne…alcohol was not going to be in shortage!

On arrival to Hyde Park, we were surprised to see that there were in fact 3 HUGE screens set up – each about the height of a 4 story house.  There was also a large collection of temporary bars, food stalls and merchandise stands.  Even if we did manage to get through the champagne (we did), there were plenty of supplies within easy reach

I guess we must had sat down on our picnic blanket by about 9:30.  We opened our first bottle of champagne by 9:35.  Popping open the first bottle at such an early time in the morning felt slightly naughty and exciting…but not in a society outcast kind of way.  Trust me – we would have been the odd ones out if we were NOT opening a bottle of champagne.

The buzz in Hyde Park was infectious. There was a strong festival like atmosphere.  The whole crowd were there for a common purpose, the crowd had chosen to sit on the grass, the crowd had chosen to be amongst other people rather than sitting at home in front of the TV.  The numbers of conversations with strangers and the willingness to hug random passers-by was way higher than usual.  The level of public camaraderie was atypically strong – what a great feeling!

The huge concert style, parabolic speaker sets ensured that everyone in Hyde Park was kept informed with each and every development of the wedding ceremony.  In fact, the speakers were even used to project ambient crowd cheering sounds across the park – noticeable by the eerie silence each time they muted the speakers at various points throughout the day.

The BBC switched their coverage to show the crowds in Hyde Park every now and again, just to remind us that the whole world was watching us! That felt pretty damn good

OK, time for another one of those emotional moments!…

Kate walked down the isle of Westminster Abbey, with a perfectly choreographed and beautiful set of clergymen, family, bridesmaids and page boys.

Hyde Park roared with laughter as Prince looked over his shoulder, caught a glimpse of Kate and then whispered something such as “She looks amazing” with a big smile to his nervous brother William.

Then it happened! The build up of emotion peaked.  The angelic sounds of choir were booming over the huge Hyde Park sounds system, the tens of thousands of people in the park were cheering and swaying in a sea of union jacks, it was impossible to escape the immense feeling of pride and excitement buzzing around the whole world at that moment in time…

THEN, the BBC switched to this stunning roof shot of the Abbey, showing the beautiful symmetry with the unmissable wedding dress as a centre point.  This served as a reminder of how big of an event this was!

This perfect shot summed up the grandeur of the day.  For whatever reason, or reasons, seeing this camera shot on the big screen, through the sea of British flags, and with the sounds of the orchestra and choir booming through the Hyde Park sound system, brought a little proud tear to my eye.  Thankfully I wasn’t the only one, it brought more than one tear to Jo’s eyes.

During the wedding vows, the eerie silence came back to Hyde Park as everyone listened carefully to each word from the priest, William and Kate.  There was a huge “ooooooh”, followed by a cheer from everyone in the park as William forced the (seemingly slightly too small) wedding ring on to Kate’s finger.  The park then erupted with cheers and celebration as they heard the words…”I pronounce you man and wife”.

As the choir (and Elton John) in Westminster Abbey started to sing “Guide Me O Thou Great Redeemer” (“Bread of Heaven, Bread of Heaven, feed me til I want no more, want no moooorre”), most of Hyde Park stood and listened, although a group of lads just behind us were singing at their loudest volume word for word – thanks to the lyrics which had been printed in the local London newspaper.

After the ceremony was complete, Hyde Park carried on partying thanks to the large amounts of BYO (BYO is an acronym i picked up in Australia meaning Bring Your Own) alcohol and food, the large selection of bars and a live band called ‘MIB” who entertained us with live covers of typical cheesey wedding songs from bands such as the Jackson 5 and Kool and the Gang.  We were also entertained by an on stage presenter who looked a bit like Dale Winton.  The rest of the afternoon was pretty much like being at a Hyde Park music festival (although the music wasn’t quite as good).

Yesterday, the 29th April 2011, was the date for the Royal wedding of William and Kate.  We decided to brave the crowds and head to London to part of the experience.  My story of getting up and motivated is worth capturing…

My day started off with an unwanted 7am alarm call from iPhone.  I jumped out of bed, muted the phone and switched the TV on to try and wake up my brain.  I’ll be honest – at that precise moment in time, I regretted arranging to meet friends early on a public vacation day.

I HATE the feeling of missing out on something just because I was too lazy to do it.  So a few minutes of watching the BBC news TV crews interviewing excited wedding spectators in central London, was all it took to get me excited and WANT to get out of bed.  I turned up the news loud enough to hear it in the shower, got washed and ready excitably quickly, and then thankfully had time for a quick bit of breakfast down in the kitchen whilst I continued to watch the build on the BBC.

I love how unexpected, and completely unpredictable moments often become the most memorable parts of an experience.  On the day of the wedding, one of the most memorable moments occurred for me before I had even left the house!

One of the BBC presenters was interviewing the crowd who have been camping out over night so that they could secure a spot to see the wedding procession.  The female presenter asked a question to a friendly, elderly (ish) looking man…

”So why did you come down here, rather than staying at home and getting a better view on television?”

to which the man responded…

1) ”Because you don’t get to meet great people like this by staying at home” (followed by a cheer from the crowd around him)

2) “Because being here makes it a memory you will never forget”

Seeing this, genuinely brought a little tear to my eye, whilst also getting me even more excited about getting in to London!  Before I had even arrived, that nice old guy had summed up the whole reason why we were getting out of bed early on a day off work.

We were going to be part of the crowd, we were going to make friends with the crowd, we were going to part of the event…we were going to make it a memory to never forget.

Her impact on so many people will live on through her amazing vocals.  I thought that she deserved to be preserved on chrism.com as well. 

I have personally spent many an hour listening to her amazingly funky, disco, gospel style voice in everything from the relaxing Runaway from Salsoul Orchestra, through to the awesomely iconic funky house Dreamin’ by Satoshi Tomie. 

RIP Loleatta, I will never forget…

Dreamin’ (especially 6 min in)…

Black Box – Ride on time…

Runaway…

Photo from Wikipedia page

I assume it’s not BA only, although most of the people here at the moment seem to be on the BA flight.  They have very low lighting throughout, although I think that’s partly due to the fact it’s not finished.

It does feel quite exclusive coming in as you have to knock on the door and wait for the ‘receptionist’ to let you in.  The guy controlling the door is the only member of staff on duty, so he is also the barman.  Nice friendly guy though.

They have a fairly well stocked bar (you have to be served by a barman due to U.S. laws), a selection of crackers, cheese and other nibbles and two nice washrooms.  No showers, but they do have a couple of free to use PCs as well as free WIFI (of course). 

There are currently no TVs up, but the guy said that they will be soon.  Anyway, here are the rest of the photos (click each to see a large version)…

After a night of parting in Jost Van Dyke we headed back to the beach to get breakfast.  The girls chose a bar where we had ended up the night before…

We turned up at ‘Corsairs’ at 8:40 and were greeted by Vinnie, the owner who remembered some of our crew from the previous night.  He said we could have breakfast as soon as is his chef turns up – at 9…ish (with a now familiar Caribbean laid back unsure smile).  We went off to the supermarket and in the mean time his chef had indeed arrived and was ready to cook us breakfast.

The bar is obviously run on a tight budget, so Vinnie served us himself rather than having other staff work that early in the morning.  His accent and facial appearance reminded me of a calming spiritual Cherokee Indian, although he was dressed like a biker/rocker.  It turns out, he was a biker.  He also mentioned that one of his homes is Colorado, so I assume he is actually an Apache Indian.  On top of the Apache Indian to biker contrast, he also had a very unique monocle hung around his neck which he used whilst writing down our food orders.  Very un-biker like. 

His less than optimistic face when we ordered 3 teas summed up the slight issue he had with lock of stock.  Despite his supply problems, his likable personality, along with his ‘we will make it work’ attitude made ordering the food a fun and slightly mysterious (we didn’t know exactly what we would get) activity.  I ordered a coca-cola, which WAS available, however it did come with an explanation of how the drinks can had been handled by him 9 times before it got to me, through a series of deliveries, boat trips 3 times per week, trading with other businesses and other long winded steps he needs to go through just to keep his bar/restaurant stocked.  It’s easy to take for granted that each little bar on the beach will have the food and drink on the menu, but it’s harder to understand all of the additional effort these small businesses on remote islands need to go through in order to get it there in the first place.

Vinnie managed to connect with each of our group individually, with a combination of cleverly personalized jokes, friendly rubs on the shoulder and plenty of smiles during the ordering process.  Even if he had served us up the worse breakfast ever (he didn’t), we would still have enjoyed the experience and walked away with smiles.

For the afternoon we sailed in to Diamond Bay, where dad and I went snorkelling.  I have still not managed to perfect the art of stopping goggles misting up, so ended up filling them with sea water every now and again to clear the lenses.  We saw a turtle and a sword fish, plus a few other random fishes, however the water was either too deep or to sandy to see much else.  After reaching the shore, we walked across rocks to a small bar where we got the first pina colada of the day.   As we arrived at the bar in bare feet, with flippers and mask in hand, some friends from another boat arrived by dingy.  It felt satisfying to have made it there under our own power, whereas they had resorted to polluting petrol power

At the end of an exhausting day, I sat on top of the boat, listening to music and thinking about work a little bit.  It was nice to get some relax time to think about what things I wanted to change when I get back home.  However, I never managed to reach any major decisions and started to feel a little frustrated with no conclusion.  I stopped thinking and went down the back of the boat to start drinking wine with the crew – soon felt better.  Sometimes switching off from work thinking is hard – perhaps it was easier this time as I would generally relaxed anyway.

…the worries of the world fade away easily.

I’m a bit slow to start in the mornings, so don’t find it that easy to make conversation over breakfast each morning, however I was happy to sit there in the sun and listen to the others discussing the days plans and various other things. I was happy, but quiet and sleepy.  Just hope everyone didn’t think I was being miserable.

Dad cooked a fried breakfast for the whole crew.  I decline as I preferred to try and eat healthy, especially as I wasn’t doing much exercise.  Guess it may just be psychological, however I  feel down when eating unhealthy food now, that is unless I know I will be doing a heavy workout to burn it off.  Not a bad thing, but something I need to consider before pigging out on a fry up.

The sky in the morning was a beautiful pearlescent blue, mostly clear but with odd clouds hovering above islands looking like smoke coming off the top of the hills.  The larger the island, the larger the cloud formation.  It was quite unique and quite stunning.

This was the first day I took the helm with the sails up.  It didn’t feel like we were going that fast, so although I found it interesting, if I am honest I was happier manning the ropes and relaxing in between jybes and tacks.  I had the wind behind me at an angle of about 120 degrees.  Paul and Steve were pretty relaxed, although their tone of voice drifted slightly in to panic as I drifted towards 30 degrees by accident – I guess because it would have meant an accidental tack (or jybe?!), which can be dangerous and potentially damage the boat.

I eventually managed to get the hand of the delayed response which is apparently prevalent in all sailing, but particularly noticeable on the catamaran we were on.  Steve taught me pick a spot on the horizon to head for, make small corrections left or right, put the wheel back to the centre, wait to see what effect it has and then adjust some more if necessary.  Repeating that process constantly whilst looking out for other boats is what I spent most of my time doing as helmsman.  It’s also important to try and pre-empt how the wind will effect our course by watching the waves, however I need a LOT more experience to get that right.  I simply adjusted every time we went of course and changed course whenever Steve or Paul told me to.

We met Alastair’s boat later in the day and had to drop anchor as all of the buoys had already been taken.  However, our anchor power winch broke, which meant that we couldn’t pull the anchor in, or let it out using the motor.  Alastair and crew came onboard to help us try to fix the problem.  As I had seen in previous problem situations, everyone was smart, serious and dedicated to fixing the problem.  No was stressed, everyone’s opinion was heard (even the less than practical ones from non-engineering minded people) and everyone worked together to try and fix the winch.  After a long time spent unsuccessfully trying to fix the winch, someone realised that it was ‘Gin O’clock’, which prompted everyone on the boat to get handed either a Gin and Tonic or a beer.  Whilst the guys were enjoying discussing the problem, and trying to work together to solve it, they were unsuccessful and everyone eventually decided to put less focus on the winch, more focus on the beers and to call the boat charter company to get there help in making the repairs.  I actually decided that I was one man too many early on in the process, so decided to stay out of the way and sit at the back of the boat to write up some blog notes.

I was feeling really tired in the evening.  Our on-boat dinner time felt nice as we were all getting to know each other a bit better.  The other boat invited us over to have drinks there, however I was half asleep and was not in a conversational mood, so decided to stay on our boat along with a couple of others who were also tired.  I felt a bit like I was letting myself (and my crew) down by not being sociable, but also told myself that I simply needed one chilled night and then I would be back on track for the rest of the trip.  After an early night and a good night’s sleep, that was pretty much the case .

After waking dad up and pointing out the bugs, and after coming around a bit myself I realised that the ‘glow bugs’ were in fact reflections of light from the open deck hatch, which appeared to be moving due to the drift of the boat!  Emergency over, glow bugs gone, dad and I got back to sleep .

We woke up to rain on morning 5 of sailing.  We continued to sit outside under the sheltered back section of the boat, although did have to go through the slight inconvenience of wiping dry the leather seat cushions first.  It wasn’t quite the same as waking up to the morning sun rays, in fact it felt a bit more like having breakfast whilst camping in rainy England.  It did make me wonder whether I would enjoy sailing in the UK as much – that remains to be seen.  The clouds soon cleared and we were again graced with beautiful sunshine to enjoy whilst we sailed.

Had that bizarre craving for news again on morning 5.  Was keen to get online and download some of the latest headlines.

Our anchor problems persisted during the morning, so we stayed in the bay for a while.  We headed over to Marina Cay, which was a beautiful little island within dingy distance of the boat.  There wasn’t much there other than a few bars, a diving school, a beach and a shop, but it was a place I would like to have stayed more than the 20 minutes we did.

We were hoping to get some milk from the grocery shop, however they were sold out.  We asked the lady in the shop when more would come in and she said ‘”he comes in the morning” (referring to the man delivering the milk).  We asked what time we should come back and she said “he comes in the morning”, with a smile and a brief look out of the window to see if he happened to turn up at that point.  Aaah, Caribbean time, it’s all good .

As we were sitting the in the bay a REALLY expensive motor yacht turned up!  We looked it up online to see who’s it was.  It turned out to be a very expensive charter boat, so the passengers were undoubtedly rich and/or important.  I had boat envy for a while, just check out some of the photos (from the boat’s website)…

There will always be a bigger boat.

Later on in the day we were told by the boat company that we had to manually raise our anchor, since they could not fix it whilst we were out on the boat.  The guys from the other boat came over to help us do the lifting.  With about 6 guys lifting, we got it up in no time and the feeling of camaraderie was high.

As we pulled out of the harbour I listened to some house music whilst the other guys sailed.  Perhaps it was the combination of events from the morning, or perhaps it was just because it was the first time I had listened to house since we started sailing, or perhaps it was the beautiful sunshine and scenery combined with music, but I felt in a state of indescribable high as I heard 2006 house tunes whilst we sailed along past Caribbean beaches.  There were multiple occasions where I heard a song I recognised being mixed in and I had to close my eyes to simply embrace the back tingling joy I felt to hear the tunes.  AMAZING feeling! Love music  

I managed to get on WIFI by standing outside the hotel.  It felt good to Facebook updated and read a bit of BBC news after being cut off for a couple of days.  Whilst I would not consider my self an addict for the news at home, I did find myself craving some up to date reading material whilst we were on the boat.  Weird.

The ‘supermarket’ resembled what I would imagine grocery stores would have looked like during the war.  The shop was small, with very few fresh products in and consisted mainly of densely packed tined and other long life items, many of which had labels with faded colours – presumably because they had been sitting around in the sun during some point of their journey to the store.   I purchased two cartons of Orange juice and later discovered (after drinking one of them), that the best before day was the 7th March (I had purchased them on the 12th!  It certainly wasn’t Waitrose, but the shop did meet our basic supply needs

The toilet on the boat needed to be pumped 15 times each time we went (more pumps for more waste).  It was great to visit the restroom on dry land and flush with just a simple flick of the toilet handle, aaah, luxury .

The next few hours were relatively slow.  We headed to a nearby bay to do some snorkelling and most people used the time to get some reading in.  I must admit that I would happily sit on the boat and do some emails in the sun on lazy days like that.  I resisted though, as I feared it may result in a missed opportunity to get my mindset further in to the slow paced and relaxing world of catermeran sailing.  On that particular day, I was quite keen to get some fast pace sailing in and was craving a bit of adrenaline rush.  During the morning/early afternoon, everyone else seemed quite content to relax whilst we remained tied to a buoy, so I also just relaxed, read, listened to music and made some blog notes.  No adrenaline rush, but definitely a relaxation high.

During the afternoon we did end up sailing properly. Dad and I sat either side of Paul who was helmsman for the day and we controlled the two winches for various tacks and jybes.  It was the first day that it felt like we were actually part of the sailing activity, rather than simply passengers who were occasionally helping out with some ropes.  Steve taught us the voice commands to use to ensure we were all in sync.  Working as a team whilst sailing is critical, and clear communication is critical to working as a team.  Dad and I readied our winches as Paul called ‘ready to tack/jybe’, after we had prepared our winches and stated we were ready, he shouted ‘coming about’ (I think) and then we then waited for ‘Leigh ho’ or ‘tack ho’ which signalled us to start winching or let our rope out (depending on which way we were turning) and then the ropes were secured around the winches to ensure the sail stayed in optimum sailing position.  We went through this process about 7 or 8 times, every time the wind changed or we decided to turn.  Sitting in the helmsmans area, looking down on the boat, controlling the direction and speed of the crew felt truly exhilarating and quite liberating considering we were being propelled by nothing other than the wind.

This was also the first day I had been in charge of hooking the buoy so that my ship mates could tie it our mooring lines.  This basically involved hanging off the front of the boat with a long metal hook, designed to capturing the eye on the end the buoy through which our mooring lines were threaded.  The challenging part was ensuring I communicated efficiently to the helmsman so that he can steer the boat towards the buoy.  I missed it on the first go, and the second, but got it on the third. Felt bad to have failed   But it did make me more determined to get it first time on a future go.  I decided that clearer hand signals were needed next time.  The helmsman said it was his thought as he came in too fast, however I think he was just saying that to make me feel better.  It was completely my fault as he couldn’t see the buoy or the speed when we were close, it was my job to provide him with signals.  Even though I had seen Dave doing the signals previously, I felt a little silly doing them myself as I didn’t really feel like I knew what I was doing.  Will just do it next time and stop being silly.