Romans and engineering. Boy were those ancient Romans some amazing engineers and city planners. The testimony to their advanced intellect and skills shows in all the ruins and structures that remain. I’ve been to places in Africa and eastern Europe with no running water and the Romans had it 2500 years ago! They also seemed to have some advanced knowledge that someone would invent the camera, because the city ranks with Paris as being the most photogenic I’ve seen – but the difference is that most of Paris has been built within the past 500 years…

I guess that one of the legacies of my Red Team Leader training is that I now analyze things from different perspectives. The downside of ancient Rome was that, while it was a beautiful, modern, luxurious city, it could not have been built without the massive human suffering of slaves, who were taken against their will from their homes, to construct and maintain the opulence. Feeling quite superior that as an American, I was pleased that we had built our country without them, but then I realized that wasn’t true either. Not only were slaves prevalent in the south, the conditions of laborers in the North were probably actually inferior to those of the slaves in Rome. I wish there were something we could feel righteous about…

The Vatican and the Catholic Church. Another amazing thing in Rome is the impact of Roman Catholicism on the city. As soon as Constantine professed Christ, they began converting all those beautiful pagan temples (and their priests) into Catholic churches, chapels and priests. I must confess they are beautiful, but again that pesky alternate perspective kicks in… The amount of funds, loot and booty necessary to build and sustain this seat of Catholicism is beyond my comprehension. What was the cost of this opulence, in terms of the human sacrifice of the millions of Catholics the world over?

Food. Our last night in Rome, we found a great restaurant. The first one we went to on our first night, which I found in my guidebook, was mediocre and cost 154 Euros (about $200) for the three of us for supper. Our last night there, we found the Taverna Pretoriana, which cost us just 54 Euros, and was superb. This was a local place, full of local patrons. I thought we had learned this lesson on a visit to Venice a few years ago, but we fell in the trap again.
Practical tip: www.tripadvisor.com is a great web site for finding good lodging and food. Guidebooks suck. If you don’t have that, then find a place full of locals. If its full of tourists, or empty, don’t go there. If they speak lousy English, then that is a good sign. If you have a chance, take the time to write a review for TripAdvisor, no matter if your experience was good or bad. Misery should not love company.
Sites. I liked the Forum the best and the Vatican the least, but these are hugely subjective judgements. The Coliseum is definitely worth visiting, but the Forum and Palatine Hill, which are right next door, are much more interesting.

In summary, Rome was a great place to visit and I’d certainly go back, if given the opportunity. It is a remarkable feeling to walk in the footsteps of the Caesars, the Apostle Paul, and the slaves and soldiers who made Rome the political, economic and military power that is was. The lesson of Rome, is that it declined and fell, just as all great civilizations have – just as our great civilization will…

Well I just got back from paddling the Great Ouse up to the Eaton Socon Lock and back. Temperature is about 35 degrees Fahrenheit but a clear, beautiful, day. Put in about 10:00, which is just after dawn this time of year, so there were lots of waterfowl about; ducks, geese and swans in copious quantities.
I just read my last post, which was almost ten months ago. It’s interesting to reflect that I was feeling pretty good when I wrote that post, mistakenly believing I was on the mend. Such was not the case. Within a couple of months I suffered two more attacks of Atrial Fibrillation (AF)(irregular heartbeat), so Dr. Grace scheduled me for an ablation. The problem with AF is that it significantly increases the risk of stroke, since the the blood flowing through the heart can stagnate a bit. If it coagulates, a particle can flow into the brain and cause a stroke or if it heads south, it could cause some kind of thrombosis. Neither is a good option, so the therapy is to go on blood thinners. That turns you into a hemophiliac, so the most minor cuts and scrapes bleed like the dickens and take forever to heal.
So, since I started getting the bouts of AF again, I’ve been very tired and a bit weak, which means I am getting really fat. I’m tired and weak because the heart is not operating at full capacity and I sometimes have trouble catching my breath. That means I frequently awake in the middle of the night because I can feel palpitations or can’t catch my breath. Exercise gets hard, so I haven’t been in the ‘yak since March.
So I went in for the Ablation on Thanksgiving Day. They use a catheter, that they run up through the femoral artery from your leg. At the end of the catheter is a very interesting probe, that they insert into your right ventricle. They then punch a whole through the interior wall of the heart (called the septum) and push the probe into the left ventricle. Then it gets really interesting.
The reason I am getting this irregular heartbeat is that certain muscle groups in the heart are giving off random electrical discharges that mess up the normal sinus rhythm of the heart. The solution is to cauterize those muscle groups (burn and kill them) so that they can’t give off anymore stray voltage. So once the probe is in the left ventricle, the surgeon guides it around (I’m being subjected to constant x-ray so he can see what is going on), heats up the end with RF radiation and cauterizes the muscle groups.
Now the best part is this: I’m conscious during the entire procedure! They use local anesthetics and sedatives to minimize the pain, but I can still hear and see a lot of what is going on.
The great news is that my cardiologist is a guy named Dr. Andrew Grace, and he may well be the world’s foremost expert on this procedure and electrocardiology in general. We are extremely fortunate that we are here in the UK, and that we are close to a Papworth Hospital and Cambridge University, which is where they are doing extensive heart research. This is where they took the Duke of Edinburgh (the Queen’s husband) when he needed a heart operation at Christmastime.
So I’ve been out for a couple of weeks now and I feel better, so I went kayaking. Time will tell if the procedure was fully successful, but I feel pretty good now – better than I’ve felt in months.
Not much of a kayak story, huh? Well hopefully, I’ll be able to get my focus back on the rivers over the next few months.

So, what’s the big deal? Why is this incredible? Simply because I have been terribly sick since December of last year. It started with Cluster Headaches: vicious, incredibly painful headaches for which I need Oxygen to manage the pain. The NHS wouldn’t give me any oxygen, its a controlled drug here, and for the life of me I’ve got no idea why. It is actually easier to get Ecstasy, Heroin, Cocaine and Pot here than it is to get some Oxygen. So I had to take drugs that were really bad for my heart to manage the pain and interrupt the headaches, which included a six week regimen of steroids – strong ones. The good news is I didn’t kill anyone, but the bad news is that just as I was coming off the steroid regimen, I had a vicious attack of Atrial Fibrillation (AF) – its like suddenly a lunatic bongo drummer takes over control of your heart beat – heart rate racing at over 200, in a syncopated beat. So, this happens while I’m in a staff meeting so I graciously bug out and have one of my friends drive me to the hospital, which is operated by the British NHS, the one the Obama administration is so fond of. They have two cardiologists check me out and these two quacks decide that the AF will subside by itself, so they discharge me after a day of observation (I think it was motivated by a morbid sense of curiousity). Well, guess what? Two weeks later, when I have my followup with my own cardiologist – the one who is competent – I’m still in AF. The solution is to do a Cardioversion – administer an electrical shock to my heart to put it back in rhythm. Problem is that since two weeks have elapsed, he needs to put me on Warfarin, a blood thinner, for seven weeks to reduce the risk of stroke. Roger that, STROKE! Seems that if you don’t administer a Cardioversion within two days of the onset of AF, there is danger that blood will stagnate in the heart and clot up. If a piece of the clot breaks loose and flows to the brain, you STROKE. So more drugs for more weeks. Well, yesterday the weeks were up and I went in for the Cardioversion and IT WORKED! Heart is running smooth as a Rolls-Royce. All should be well, right? Wrong…

During the four months of steroids and under-performing heart, it was all I could do to keep up with my work and my studies (I started another Masters a week after the onset of the AF). I got easily winded and was tired all the time. Slept a lot. Moreover, the steroids started me on a nasty weight gain. Now I’m fat as a pig and really out of shape so I get to spend the next few months rebuilding my physical conditions and dieting. 2011 is going to be a tough year.

But the great news is that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step and I took that step yesterday with my short kayak voyage up to the Eaton Socon locks. I have begun my recovery, the dawn has come. I can see the light. Praise God.

Paradoxically, the events in our own little stretch of river are profound to me. In the past year I was able to watch the cycle of plant and animal life up close and personal – something I never would have done had I not started this sport. On the Great Ouse, I regularly see the geese who were newborn goslings, less than a year ago. I was worried about them because some were born fatherless, which is a real disadvantage in the animal kingdom – in fact its a disadvantage for us humans as well. I worry about our generations of youngsters and “not so youngsters” who have grown up fatherless. Fathers are supposed to protect and teach their children to survive – Mothers love and nurture them – but parenting is a team sport. Men and women are different emotionally and physically, and the children need to be able to understand and embrace those differences. Perhaps this is why we see no instances of homosexual mating in the animal kingdom… Perhaps its why the Lord forbids it in the Bible. At any rate, most of those little goslings are grown now, though they are still a bit splotchy with their baby fuzz, which looks a little like peach fuzz on a teenage male.

Another rewarding part of this year has been my interest in photography – this blog is replete with photos of my adventures. I ended up buying a new camera and the photo bug has taken on a life of its own. I guess I am getting in touch with my artistic side for the first time in years.

So what does 2011 hold? I look forward to more rewarding experiences, but in a world that is becoming increasingly hostile to a child of Christ. Kayaking offers me a break from that for a time, but only if I go solo or with some close friends. I have yet to go on a kayak expedition in a group, where someone does not make some totally gratuitous or disparaging remark about Christians or Christianity. In fact its not just paddlers, rarely a day goes by in the course of life without some criticism of the cause of Christ – and if the Christian responds he is threatened with some kind of legal action. Such criticism should be an opportunity for an exchange of ideas about Christ and eternity, but frequently results in anger and insults – such is the general hatred that grows toward the cause of Christ. My greatest frustration is the “moral equivalency” argument that Christ’s teachings are no different than Mohammed’s – an argument regularly deployed by people who have read the writings of neither. I know of no, orthodox, Bible believing Christian who believes the world should be cleansed of “infidels” and Christ did not teach this – Mohammed did though. I wish the world would understand that Christians are not the reason for Muslim anger, Satan is. At least Endurance provides me an opportunity to escape this for a while, recharge, and re-engage.

The New Year comes, but my new focus in on preparing for the Lord’s work in ministry. I’ve begun a Masters in Religious Education at Liberty Baptist Seminary, which should be a three year endeavor. I continue to teach Bible at my local church, an lead the worship service. Our church is small, but it is necessary – people need the Lord. He put us here to help them realize that need, and address it. My prayer is that our little church becomes a big one this year, full of enthusiastic and growing Christians. My prayer for you who read this, is that you find Christ this year (if you have not already) and if you are a follower of Christ, that you will prosper and grow in your relationship with him in trials to come. Oh, and happy paddling.

So, armed with my plan and my chart, I headed down to the river, put in, and headed out at 8:25 a.m.  For the UK, this was still a bit early and there was no other river traffic as I paddled upriver.  About 10 minutes into the paddle, my arms started to get fatigued, the consequence of being lazy the last couple of weeks.  I’ve not gotten out enough lately.  We’ve also had a bit of rain the last couple of days, so the flow is faster than its been for a couple of months.  Anyway, the only folks I saw on the river were a couple of fishermen.  The birds and waterfowl were far more prevalent, and I passed a few ducks and some of the swan families.  The cygnets are nearly as big as their parents are now.

I got to the lock and headed up the sluice about 25 minutes later, paddling like mad.  I’ve also heard the sluice called a “mill race”, as its similar to the fast flowing water channels that used to power the water wheels from the old mills.  Its possible that there was a mill on this stream some time ago, but there is no sign of it now.  So, about a hundred yards or so up the “race”, I encountered the deadfall.  A deadfall is a tree that falls in the forest-in my case, it had fallen across the stream, completely obstructing my route.  This tree had fallen since I’d come through the week before and leaves and other flotsam were starting to pile up against it. I had no means of clearing it (note to self, get a small hand saw).  Unfortunately, the banks had too much brush and were too steep, so my only option was to turn around.

Undaunted, I paddled back down the sluice and put ashore on the east side of the big weir that controls the water level of the upper stage.  Pulling the ‘yak out, I reassembled her trolley, strapped it on the kayak, and walked the boat up to the trail and upriver in hopes of finding a place to put in on the upper side.  Fortunately, after a short walk through the forest, the path took me to the shore on the upper stage, where I was able to disassemble the trolley, put in, and resume my journey.

This part of the journey was not very picturesque.  I paddled up to the A428 highway bridge and then past the giant new power station, which is quite ugly.  I’d been up here a couple of weeks before – it was under the bridge that I met the fellow kayaker who told me about the portage down by the sluice.  He had already pulled ashore under the bridge and I was sitting in my kayak as we conversed, when suddenly he stopped, stared past my boat, and exclaimed in a loud whisper “Look at that!”   “What?” said I and he said that there was a big fish.  I looked and lo, and behold the largest carp I had ever seen was eyeing me from below the surface.  He must have been at least three feet long!  My colleague explained that the carp like the warm water that is expelled from the power station and some of them get quite big.  This fellow wasn’t as big as the orcas, but he was big enough to startle me!  Glad they don’t eat people (I don’t think….). I didn’t see him this trip, though.

I did manage to see a beautiful bush on the riverside with lovely pink and lavender flowers. The colors were startling, almost like fireworks:

About a half mile past the power station, my right side really started to ache and my arms were becoming increasingly fatigued. Fortunatly, the good Lord put a place right there for me to pull out and rest a bit, much some Fiber One bars, and chill. I was just south of the village of Little Barford. It was apparent that I wasn’t going to make it to Tempsford today – I was just too knackered. I really enjoyed the solitude of sitting on that shore, in that pasture, watching the river go by and would have liked to have stayed all day. Reluctantly, I put back in and headed back downriver.

So what does this do for me (and you?) producing these massive digital photos?  It allows me to produce some really detailed photos that can be blown up into posters and large format photos and still retain their clarity and sharpness.  Here are some of the shots I got today.

This one is like a scene from Bambi… What’s a shame is that this pales in comparison to what I can get on my computer or if I take these to a lab for high quality prints.

This first shot is Mom and her youngsters, the second is a closeup of the youngsters…

Finally, we have one of our local swan families.  Check out how big the cygnets are now.  If you look back in my blog, to “World Between the Locks Part I” on 17 June, you’ll see this same family.  In spite of the fact that Mom is a widow and raising this brood singlehandedly, they seem to be thriving!  This was kind of a sad story on 17 June, but the kids are all right…

So much for a demonstration of the new camera.  As I get used to it, I trust my photography will get better.  Now if I can only improve my writing…

The downside is that when it is a great day for kayaking, it is a great day for all manner of watersports, so there were jet skis and power boats (which I call “stinkpots” – which is what my Dad, an avid wind sailor, called them).  More on Stinkpots later.  Because of lots of stinkpots, and all manner of sightseeing craft, the water was a choppy.  I should note that I bear no ill will against my friends who are powerboaters, its just that those of us who enjoyed wind or people powered craft find powerboats an occasional nuisance, or worse, dangerous to our health and well-being.

Lake Union doesn’t fit my normal conception of a lake, rather it is a saltwater inlet, so one finds piers and wharfs with freighters and other ocean-going vessels moored there.  It has two inlets to Puget Sound, one to the east and the other to the west of it.   Not only is it choppy, but you can experience swells and surf – this is why sea kayaks are are the best kind of kayak to use here.

Back to the paddle:  since Dan had done this before, he led on a paddle around the north side of the lake, to the old gas works.  This was different from anything I’d experienced before; it was an urban paddle!

I hope you all are impressed with my photos; I have them only because I took my brand-new Canon EOS Rebel T2I Digital SLR with me.  This is a lovely camera, and the most expensive camera I’ve ever owned.  Despite its expense, it is not at all waterproof, so it was incredibly stupid on my part to bring it along on this trip.  The water was rough, choppy, and kayaking is generally kind of a wet endeavor anyway.  Having said that, the good Lord smiled on me and somehow I kept the camera dry, though I was worried and stressed about it the entire time.  I realized how stupid I was early in the voyage, but did not want to confess my stupidity to my son by asking to turn back; it would have been a sign of weakness and undermined his belief in my infallibility.

So we paddled, with hundreds of other kayakers, out to the Old Gas Works.  It looked like an Inuit war party.  Below is a shot of Dan with his fellow Braves…

The Seattle skyline was simply incredible from this vantage point, so we dwelled a bit off the shore by the Gas Works.  This is a shot that Dan took just before we turned about and headed back.  That would be yours truly in the kayak, just this side of the sailboat.

On the return trip, as we were passing under the Interstate 5 Bridge, Dan noticed a stinkpot approaching me at an idle and shouted a warning to me (I was now in the lead).  Lo, and behold, about a hundred yards directly in front of me was a large stinkpot, with a lot of people on board, weaving from side to side at idle speed (dead slow).  I wasn’t sure which direction I should take to avoid it so I looked for the driver of the boat to try to get his attention in case he hadn’t seen me.

No one was driving.

There must have been 15 young people on board, but not one was at the helm and not one was looking in my direction!  I had to make a decision so I arbitrarily chose to head to port (the left) and give the stinkpot as wide a berth as possible on my right.  Fortunately, the boat didn’t swerve back in my direction.  As I passed, the festive crowd aboard raised their beers in a toast to me.  I shook my head and paddled on.  Drunks and stinkpots…  There are way too many of them this time of year.

The remainder of the trip was uneventful as we headed back to the kayak rental place, put up the kayaks, and enjoyed a drink and some Mexican food.  In spite of all my stresses and strains, it really amounted to a great time.

Orca running off San Juan Island on 3 July 2010

“What was I thinkin?!”  I suddenly thought as I uploaded this photo to the computer.  My son and I had just spent a day kayaking with killer whales – that’s right, wild KILLER whales – each running three to four tons.  One such whale had just killed its trainer at Seaworld and here were my son and I, out in Puget Sound with not just one or two, but more like a two dozen of them.  How did we come to this?

In late June and early July, my wife and I took our holiday vacation in Tacoma, Washington, in the Northwest corner of the USA, not far from Canada.  I badly wanted to do some kayaking there,  so prior to going, I did some research on the internet and found an outfit up there called Outdoor Odysseys (http://www.outdoorodysseys.com/), based out of a place called Friday Harbor, on San Juan Island, out in Puget Sound.  My son Dan and I signed up for their “Eagles and Orcas” tour on July 3rd, just before the American Independence Day.

So, on the appointed day, Dan, my wife Myong Hi, and I took the 9:05 am ferry from Anacortes, Washington, out to Friday Harbor.  Myong Hi and I had spent the evening prior in Anacortes, a charming little seaside resort town on Fidalgo Island.  Dan drove up from Tacoma that morning, and gave us quite the thrill as he made the ferry about two minutes prior to departure.  The day was beautiful, with some light clouds, a temperature of about 72F, and a breeze running 10-15 knots.  As it happened, a marine biologist was aboard the ferry and gave a lecture on orca whales on the way over, which proved quite informative and useful.

I learned that there are three groups of orca whales who live in the vicinity of the southern San Juan Islands, that are called the “J”, “K”, and “L” pods.  These are resident orcas, which means they are born, live and die in this general area.  They are distinct from transient orcas and from offshore orcas.  The local of orcas number somewhere about 70 whales.  The oldest is a female, about 99 years old (the scientists have a formula for figuring this out), named “Granny J1″ and her son, “Granny J2″ is about 60.  On average, male orcas live about 30 years and the females live about 50-60.  The orcas from the local pods do not eat mammals; they eat salmon – Chinook Salmon, to be precise – and they eat about 200 pounds of these salmon a day.  That they did not eat mammals was comforting to me, since I’m a mammal (rumors that I am actually a reptile are patently untrue)  and was planning to go out in a small kayak to view these creatures shortly.

Upon arrival at Friday Harbor, we linked up with the team from Outdoor Odysseys, who were waiting for us with a van just outside the ferry terminal.  Myong Hi hung out in Friday Harbor while Dan and I boarded the van with the guides and nine other intrepid kayakers to make the trip over to the west side of the island.  Our guides, David and West, were consummate professionals who provided excellent basic instruction on sea kayaking to the rookies in the group and regalled us all with lots of nuggets about the history and the geography of San Juan Island.  After about a 20 minute ride, we arrived at Smallpox Bay (a charming name, no?) where Outdoor Odysseys maintains its kayaks.  There we spent about an hour as the guides trained us, briefed us on how to be good neighbors to orcas, and handed out paddles, floatation devices, spray decks, and the like.  The tour group was very friendly and engaging – I was the old guy in the group, with most ranging in age from around their late 20s to mid-30s.  After getting fitted into our kayaks, we put to sea about 11:00, in search of killer whales…

Left to right: unnamed kayaker, Joel, Dan, and West, who was one of our guides

The trip out was excellent, but we saw no whales.  We paddled south along the coast to Lime Kiln Point Park and then to Dead Man Bay (I’m not making this up…).  Just south of Smallpox Bay we spotted a couple of Bald Eagles!  They had a nest high in the trees on the shoreline and were gliding overhead.  They were majestic and graceful.  As we continued on, close to shore, we spotted a lone harbor seal chowing down on some kelp!  I had never seen kelp like this before – it was kelp on steroids!  The stalks were about an inch and a half in diameter, like tree branches.  This seal was like a puppy, in total ecstasy, as he munched away on the kelp.  He did not care that we were five feet from him.

Even though we had seen no whales so far, this was shaping up to be an excellent trip!  We continued on, around the Lime Kiln Point lighthouse, to Dead Man’s Bay, where we would stop for lunch and some fellowship.

It was here in Dead Man Bay that we learned that David and West were not only great guides, but superb chefs as well.   They prepared us a sumptuous vegetarian picnic lunch, with fruit, hummus, pita, bagels, veggies, and mashed avocado.  Lots of tasty, but not heavy, food.  After eating our fill, we packed up the boats and put back out to sea, for the trip back to Smallpox Bay.

At this point, I was becoming somewhat philosophical – though the trip had been fun, we had seen no sign of whales at all.  Unfortunately, there is no way that the tour operators can guarantee you will see whales; either they show up or they don’t.  The whale-watching tour boats (which have sonar and other high-tech gear) normally start to gather when whales are in the area, and there were no such boats in sight as we headed back north out of Dead Man Bay.

It was West who noticed, about 20 minutes into this part of the trip, that a couple of whale-watching boats had gathered about a mile or so in front of us.  That was hopeful!  Then we started to see spouts of water blowing upwards, then dorsal fins.

Off in the distance – there were whales!

The first group of three orcas swam straight at us.  Proper response for a kayak group is to “raft” the boats together into a tight group, as this reduces stress on the whales by creating a single entity on the water, as opposed to six separate entities.  While we were rafting up, an orca started to breach about five feet behind our kayak, but apparently thought the better of it and dove out of the way – his maneuver caused the water to surge and churn between us and one of the other kayaks, as it moved into the raft group.  In the course of the next hour, three more groups of orcas would swarm around us, as they swam south.  They were really hauling, travelling at about 30 or 40 knots.  The last group appeared to be the youngsters.  They were chasing each other around and one of them twice jumped completely out of the water in his (her?) exuberance, as they sped past us.

Unfortunately, these photos do not do justice to the show these whales put on for us.  When they breach, they breach fast and unexpectedly and I couldn’t get the shots off in time.  Perhaps the next trip out I’ll be able to do better.

As the last group of orcas headed on south, we found ourselves right in front of Smallpox Bay and so we headed in and put ashore. What an incredible day!

This may be the coolest thing I’ve ever done.

There were more signs of new life.  This is a lousy photo, but depicted are a mother duck and a pile of ducklings, sitting in someone’s backyard adjacent the river. 

On the way home, I encountered this convoy of geese.  A month ago, they were travelling with goslings, but they seem to have grown quite a bit now. 

So the cycle of life begins in June in the river world of St Neots.  Its a tough world  out there, with cats, owls, hawks and other predatory birds, so I hope this new generation fares well.