2009

Touched down in Auckland just before sunrise.

Did the luggage-customs-shuttle shuffle, worked around some office access issues due to the holiday, exchanged gear, and tinkered with batteries and a broken windshield wiper to get the car going again. Caught up with Greg and he helped me hack auto bits in the sun. Ducked inside (sunburnt after just two hours) and helped him hack Python bits on his home network.

Cole played in the driveway with the tools, picking them up and banging them around. Exactly a year ago he was an infant, cradled aboard the boat in the rug-covered walls of the head cabin and boxed in with pillows. It being the night before New Year's Eve, there was no better example of what one year means.

Arrived at the marina in the Bay of Islands well after dark. With a trolley full of enough groceries to last through the shop closings, I wheeled down the pier hoping for better but prepared for worse. Finally ducking inside, was overall impressed (and a little relieved), but still some problems unexpected and a lot of work ahead.

...

In the past two years there's been experiences which left me saying “Oh... I guess that's what it means owning a boat.” Most of those weren't so good. Then there's been a few which started, “I own a boat, I should be able to...” The second mostly turned out worth the first.


...

Eight o'clock New Years Eve got word that more of the old Kiwi circle of friends had returned from London than originally thought. Became tempted enough to wing a last-minute dash back down to Auckland to arrive just before the stroke of midnight. A sudden, surprise downpour put the kibosh on that. No windshield wipers. Expired Warrant of Fitness. Not a good night to play the odds against roadside checkpoints.


...

Managed to chuck on the wetsuit, launch the kayak, and paddle out into open water in time for the first fireworks. It would have been a nice view from Paihia, just in front of the barge. It was still pretty good from Opua, rocking afloat and leaning back.

Wind was from the northeast, a breeze warmed by waters toward the equator, and in the direction of the show. Paddled out straight into it and just kept going after the finale. First time I had done this in six months – not counting the Bethany Beach Trip with Colin back in September. It felt great to be on the water again, especially there in the Opua estuary.

After reaching the channel marker, just rested the paddle down and begin to drift. I wasn't sure about the currents but the wind would help push me back where I'd came. That was the beauty of going upwind. Whenever you're done, or just get tired, sit back, relax, and drift home.

Its like cycling through the mountains, each gust an invisible hill, with an incredible view on either side. Then suddenly, after a few hours, when one had had enough, just pull over, put down the kickstand, and sit down in a comfy chair. Watch the whole trip again in slow motion rewind and be at your front door when its over.


...

The phosphorescence was out that night.

Each paddle stroke drew up a puddle of small green lights, like stirring a jacuzzi full of lightning bug soup with a spoon the size of a shovel.


...

Just before the ferry landing on the Russell side, a fish suddenly jumped out of the water and landed in my lap. It was more than a little surprising, and actually took some time to scoop up in the dark. He couldn't have been more than three or four inches long, probably one of the same type that crowd the lights along the piers in the hundreds, always gurgling and swooshing away when your shadow casts across them.

Last autumn one had jumping into and bounced off my arm. I spent half an hour convincing myself I had actually felt it. This time there was no denying the wet flopping around. An auspicious experience. I took it as a good sign for the New Year.


...

2009 didn't really start for me though, until midnight in New York.

It was already 6pm, New Years Day in New Zealand by then. I think at the exact moment I was ducked into one of the outer hulls, digging through warp lines for the parachute anchor, covered in dried white paint.

I could hear the timer going off on the mobile over the stereo.

The job was finally done.


...

Shortly after Thanksgiving, I sent a quick courtesy email to a client, expecting to confirm that a certain project was dead. I hadn't heard anything in weeks, and though it sounded pretty cool I wouldn't have minded too much if there was one less thing to worry about over the holiday rush.

Instead I got back an almost instant response that everything was indeed full go and that we should start barrelling right into it.

The details rounded out that week. Samsung was looking to do something a little more interesting with their screen in Times Square for this New Years Eve. My company, Eyemagnet, would help put together two interactive campaigns to be run from December 26th through to Midnight, 2009.

The first would allow people on the street to send photos, text messages, and emails expressing the hopes they wanted to share for the season. Everything would be stored and later viewable on a special website. The second would be a multiple-choice trivia game, played via text messages, throughout New Years Eve itself, with the name of the first person to submit the correct answer displayed large and proud. Both would need to pass through some form of moderation tool to make sure nothing nasty got through.

My job was to figure out how to make it all work, to design all the pieces it would require, gather the staff and whatever outside contractors necessary, divide up the parts, make sure it all came together in the end, as well as price it all up, close it, and manage the deal through with the client.

A very complete proposal with explicit deadlines for the materials we need was agreed on from the outset and broken almost immediately by suppliers further up the chain. There ended up being no less than eleven organizations involved in the project, from Samsung at the very top, through a media agency in Korea, a US agency near Princeton, the technical display team who manage the sign, our telecommunications client who brought us the job, to finally Eyemagnet and on down the line.

Delays on critical pieces further up spiralled into ripple effects further down, requiring new hands to replace bodies already out of reach on vacation. More than a few of us ended up with laptops around the holiday dinner table, and taking meals in front of keyboards.


...

On the night, it all worked beautifully.

A complete success for everyone involved.










....

In the meantime, I needed to get home.

I flew from New York back to San Francisco on the 27th, after confirming everything right looked for the second day's run, and snapping a few last minute daytime shots before jumping into a cab. The BART pulled into Montgomery Station in time to grab a late meal and repack all my bags.


...

This two month visit to the Bay Area had ballooned into six as the business grabbed a foothold and began to mushroom out. I had to buy winter coats and clothing for the first time since moving to New Zealand six years ago. My motorcycle had been stolen from the “secure” parking garage while I had been gone, and there was no one looking after the boat. A hurricane in July, described by newspapers at the times as the “worst in a decade” had struck and I had already seen photos of some of the damage to the exterior. If any new leaks had developed, or any old ones had come back and gotten worse, it could have meant disaster for the interior. There'd be no way to know until arriving back myself and turning the key to the hatch.

I was on the plane to Auckland the next day.


...

After finishing enough chores to feel good about the day's progress, there was still an hour of daylight by the time I had the wetsuit back on. This was my normal time for hitting the kayak. Today's wind would take me to the southwest side of the tidal basin and the current would swing me back to the East. I set out in what I judged to be the best position to watch the sunset while drifting as much as possible towards home.

At eight thirty, as the sky began to change colour, I pulled the bottle of champagne out the kayak's hatch and popped the cork. The flute I untied from beind the seat.

I kicked back and watched mellow pastels drip down the horizon.

At nine o'clock I snapped a photo.

It was midnight in San Francisco.

New Years.