Norge '07
New images added to the gallery.
Video snippet from the Brandsetelvi below (Right-click movie icon to download - Quick Time required, approx 10Mb).
 |
posted by renko at 8/16/2007 02:41:00 PM
0 comments
Thursday, August 16, 2007
New images added to the gallery.
Video snippet from the Brandsetelvi below (Right-click movie icon to download - Quick Time required, approx 10Mb).
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Sea Fever
I must go down to the seas again,
for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call
that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day
with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume,
and the sea-gulls crying.
- excerpt from 'Sea Fever' by John Masefield
posted by renko at 8/22/2006 09:45:00 PM
0 comments
Friday, July 28, 2006
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Bomb Voyage!
'Allo zere, mon petites little partisans! Bomb voyage 'ere reporting zat ah gud time was ad by all who journeeyed to ze sweet sweet alpine village zat is Briancon!
Zere is even a little footage for your pleasure...
(Cinématographie - Monsieur Scott)
Au Revoir mes amis
Zere is even a little footage for your pleasure...
| |
| Lower Guisane - Part 1 | Lower Guisane - Part 2 |
| |
| Briancon Gorge | The Onde |
Au Revoir mes amis
posted by renko at 7/18/2006 01:51:00 PM
0 comments
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Do you know what 'nemesis' means?
Easter amongst the glens of West Scotland saw a return to the Orchy where 18 months ago a third shoulder dislocation had me wondering whether or not it'd be worthwhile jacking it all in. Almost 10 months on from an operation, physio and a painstakingly slow recovery process, it's starting to come back.
Apart from a strangely terrifying moment as I lined up for my 'nemesis' it all went well back in the Highlands.
Click image below to open video or right click and 'Save Target As...' to download (Windows Media <1Mb).
It went well, aye; though mostly due to a few pints o' heavy I grant you! Cracking weekend had by all with top spot honours for 'tool of the month' (pardon the pun) going to Ant: a truly pant-wettingly funny moment I shall ne'er forget; cheers;-)
Oh, aye - and make mine a dooshers!
;)
Apart from a strangely terrifying moment as I lined up for my 'nemesis' it all went well back in the Highlands.
Click image below to open video or right click and 'Save Target As...' to download (Windows Media <1Mb).
It went well, aye; though mostly due to a few pints o' heavy I grant you! Cracking weekend had by all with top spot honours for 'tool of the month' (pardon the pun) going to Ant: a truly pant-wettingly funny moment I shall ne'er forget; cheers;-)
Oh, aye - and make mine a dooshers!
;)
posted by renko at 4/20/2006 11:24:00 AM
1 comments
Monday, April 10, 2006
Zen & the Art of Kayak Maintenance
Well the summer season is upon us (ha, tell that to my still-frozen hands!) and the mighty Tryweryn is back on. A cold Sunday morning saw our (fool)hardy boaters descend through wintery sleet for a few runs down the local(?) shoot just in time for it to brighten up for the trip home.
Hats off then to all those who made the journey, be it physical or something deeper altogether!
Ahuuuummmm - Paul contemplates his path ;-)
The joy of craftsmanship.
Quality.
Hats off then to all those who made the journey, be it physical or something deeper altogether!
Ahuuuummmm - Paul contemplates his path ;-)
The joy of craftsmanship.
Quality.
posted by renko at 4/10/2006 11:37:00 AM
0 comments
Cockleshell Heroes
Having originally posted this as a humourous story over on UKRGB, it recently featured on Ignacio Wenley Palacios' excellent open sea and coastal paddling journal 'On Kayaks'.
Operation Frankton - An Alternate History
At dawn on 12 December 1942, a series of explosions rocked the docks in Bordeaux. To the utter dismay and horror of the occupying German forces, a number of cargo ships from their fleet of 'blockade runners' carrying vital supplies from the Far East, lay wrecked or sinking. The result of a daring attack by Royal Marine canoeists dropped by submarine at the mouth of the Gironde, and who had made their way some 60 miles up river to the docks over several nights.
As any club paddler will know, it could've all been so different...
(HMS Tuna - Surface, December 7th 7:30pm)
"Whad'ya mean you feel dizzy?"
"He's claustrophobic boss"
"What the **** is he doing on a submarine then?!"
"Well, someone back at the clubhouse said you guys were going for the three star and we thought would be a nice evening paddle and we didn't know the shuttle was gonna be so complicated, like. By the way, have you seen my spraydeck?"
And so began one of the most daring escapades in modern warfare.
The rest as they say; is history...
The canoes were launched with the aid of the submarines gun which was being used as a crane, unfortunately the gun was subsequently knocked out of action when the makeshift winch system (some 15 pulleys, 28 ropes, 32 tape slings and 17 karabiners) improvised by "Swiss Army" Sam fouled the gearing mechanism; though miraculously, his posture seemed much better once out on the water.
The launch went well until Bill and Ted voiced their reservations about canoe construction and began muttering and grumbling "crosslinear" and "htp" to one another. Mysteriously, their canoe 'knocked' against a hatch clamp tearing an 18 inch gap in its canvas side. Despite the crew's pleadings of "accident, dude", they had to be left behind.
The other five canoes formed up and began paddling towards the mouth of the River Gironde. After an hours paddling they heard a roaring sound ahead as the canoes approached a tide race, a place where several currents of water come together. One by one the canoes paddled into the foaming waters, at the other side they waited for each other to meet up. Wallace and Grommit never showed up, another crew went back to look for them but they were not to be found. They returned to the others and headed on with their mission, already two canoes down.
Soon they came to another tidal race; once again they paddled furiously to get through it, this time Bertie and Basset never appeared. Again a crew went back to search, and found them capsized and clinging on to the upturned canoe with its drain plug hanging out. With the boat so full of water it was impossible to refloat her so the order to scuttle her was given.
With Bertie and Basset hanging on to the stern of two of the other canoes they paddled towards the French coast. However, constantantly shouting "kick harder" soon began to wear the paddlers down, and after finally beating their grip loose the two men were "released" for the 15 mile swim to shore.
Sergeant's Wallace and Grommit had lost their way in the tidal race, at about 4am the sea had got so rough that it rolled their canoe and despite valiant attempts to remedy their situation, they both bailed immediately. Exhausted, they managed to swim to the shore where they were spotted by a German gun crew and immediately ridiculed for their garish luminous buoyancy aids and fluffy pogies.
They were promptly shot.
With dawn approaching the remaining commandos had to find shelter for the day. They hauled their boats out of the water and camouflaged them, ate 3 days worth of mars bar rations and had a close call when one of the party lit a bonfire and began chanting and twirling his paddle around. Amidst a flurry of fists, the "ponce" was finally subdued and the party settled down for some much needed rest. Dusk began with the ritual 'puke-fest' and once the empty bottles and cans were removed from the boats, they floated out and headed upstream.
They kept the pace up for six hours, but hardly seemed to be covering any ground until Corporal Dick spotted that they were still tied up. Not to be undone by this minor hiccup, the next dawn began with the ritual 'puke-fest' and once the empty bottles and cans were removed from the boats, they floated out again (untethered) and headed upstream.
Following a long and gruelling paddle and with darkness approaching the surviving canoeists were approaching the last stage of their mission. Leaving the Gironde behind, they entered the Garonne and paddled to Bordeaux. During the dark of the morning of December 11th they found some tall reeds in which they could lay up for the day and sleep off their hangovers, before attacking the ships that lay in Bordeaux harbour.
As the light began to fade they prepared the limpet mines that had sat between their legs since leaving HMS Tuna (except for Corporal Dick and Private Jane, who had left it back on board, mistaking it for a game of "Super Simon"* and inadvertently setting the timer).
*Super Simon is remembered today as a game with annoying blinking lights and electronic bleeps and boops, but it was the height of technological sophistication at the time.
The timers were set for eight hours, giving them time to make their getaway. Mills and Boon went to the north side of the river and Dick and Jane just took off.
Although there were several hairy moments (most notably when Mills clamped his own arm to the hull of one of the freighters, but was resolved after hacking off the troublesome limb with Boon's trusty tree saw) they managed to attach their limpets and get out of the harbour without raising the alarm, though they were accosted by several river bank bystanders to cries of "get off me fish", their shotguns were well out of range.
Apparently, the first mine had gone off at 3am on the morning of the 8th, but the first to go off in Bordeaux harbour was at 7am. The damage inflicted on the ships was quite severe, one ship's hull was severely pitted and two others needed several coats of fresh paint. Another vessel sank, though this was quite rightly attributed to being torpedoed six months later off the Norwegian coast.
The remaining crews now headed down river to scuttle their canoes and make their escape overland to Spain and back to Britain. Unfortunately, the heroes never made it to Spain never mind back to Blighty. Both crews were later found wholly inebriated by a 'wandering' German security patrol. Having holed up in a notorious nightspot the 'heroes in neoprene' were welcomed somewhat over-enthusiastically by the local clientele; certainly a distinctly novel dimension to the average serviceman's view of what constituted 'The Resistance'.
It is believed they died happy.
(ahem)
For the 'real' story, check it out here
"Of the many brave and dashing raids carried out by the men of Combined Operations Command, none was more courageous or imaginative than 'Operation Frankton'" - Earl Mountbatten of Burma.
The story was dramatised in the 1955 motion picture 'The Cockleshell Heroes' starring José Ferrer and Trevor Howard.
Operation Frankton - An Alternate History
At dawn on 12 December 1942, a series of explosions rocked the docks in Bordeaux. To the utter dismay and horror of the occupying German forces, a number of cargo ships from their fleet of 'blockade runners' carrying vital supplies from the Far East, lay wrecked or sinking. The result of a daring attack by Royal Marine canoeists dropped by submarine at the mouth of the Gironde, and who had made their way some 60 miles up river to the docks over several nights.
As any club paddler will know, it could've all been so different...
(HMS Tuna - Surface, December 7th 7:30pm)
"Whad'ya mean you feel dizzy?"
"He's claustrophobic boss"
"What the **** is he doing on a submarine then?!"
"Well, someone back at the clubhouse said you guys were going for the three star and we thought would be a nice evening paddle and we didn't know the shuttle was gonna be so complicated, like. By the way, have you seen my spraydeck?"
And so began one of the most daring escapades in modern warfare.
The rest as they say; is history...
The canoes were launched with the aid of the submarines gun which was being used as a crane, unfortunately the gun was subsequently knocked out of action when the makeshift winch system (some 15 pulleys, 28 ropes, 32 tape slings and 17 karabiners) improvised by "Swiss Army" Sam fouled the gearing mechanism; though miraculously, his posture seemed much better once out on the water.
The launch went well until Bill and Ted voiced their reservations about canoe construction and began muttering and grumbling "crosslinear" and "htp" to one another. Mysteriously, their canoe 'knocked' against a hatch clamp tearing an 18 inch gap in its canvas side. Despite the crew's pleadings of "accident, dude", they had to be left behind.
The other five canoes formed up and began paddling towards the mouth of the River Gironde. After an hours paddling they heard a roaring sound ahead as the canoes approached a tide race, a place where several currents of water come together. One by one the canoes paddled into the foaming waters, at the other side they waited for each other to meet up. Wallace and Grommit never showed up, another crew went back to look for them but they were not to be found. They returned to the others and headed on with their mission, already two canoes down.
Soon they came to another tidal race; once again they paddled furiously to get through it, this time Bertie and Basset never appeared. Again a crew went back to search, and found them capsized and clinging on to the upturned canoe with its drain plug hanging out. With the boat so full of water it was impossible to refloat her so the order to scuttle her was given.
With Bertie and Basset hanging on to the stern of two of the other canoes they paddled towards the French coast. However, constantantly shouting "kick harder" soon began to wear the paddlers down, and after finally beating their grip loose the two men were "released" for the 15 mile swim to shore.
Sergeant's Wallace and Grommit had lost their way in the tidal race, at about 4am the sea had got so rough that it rolled their canoe and despite valiant attempts to remedy their situation, they both bailed immediately. Exhausted, they managed to swim to the shore where they were spotted by a German gun crew and immediately ridiculed for their garish luminous buoyancy aids and fluffy pogies.
They were promptly shot.
With dawn approaching the remaining commandos had to find shelter for the day. They hauled their boats out of the water and camouflaged them, ate 3 days worth of mars bar rations and had a close call when one of the party lit a bonfire and began chanting and twirling his paddle around. Amidst a flurry of fists, the "ponce" was finally subdued and the party settled down for some much needed rest. Dusk began with the ritual 'puke-fest' and once the empty bottles and cans were removed from the boats, they floated out and headed upstream.
They kept the pace up for six hours, but hardly seemed to be covering any ground until Corporal Dick spotted that they were still tied up. Not to be undone by this minor hiccup, the next dawn began with the ritual 'puke-fest' and once the empty bottles and cans were removed from the boats, they floated out again (untethered) and headed upstream.
Following a long and gruelling paddle and with darkness approaching the surviving canoeists were approaching the last stage of their mission. Leaving the Gironde behind, they entered the Garonne and paddled to Bordeaux. During the dark of the morning of December 11th they found some tall reeds in which they could lay up for the day and sleep off their hangovers, before attacking the ships that lay in Bordeaux harbour.
As the light began to fade they prepared the limpet mines that had sat between their legs since leaving HMS Tuna (except for Corporal Dick and Private Jane, who had left it back on board, mistaking it for a game of "Super Simon"* and inadvertently setting the timer).
*Super Simon is remembered today as a game with annoying blinking lights and electronic bleeps and boops, but it was the height of technological sophistication at the time.
The timers were set for eight hours, giving them time to make their getaway. Mills and Boon went to the north side of the river and Dick and Jane just took off.
Although there were several hairy moments (most notably when Mills clamped his own arm to the hull of one of the freighters, but was resolved after hacking off the troublesome limb with Boon's trusty tree saw) they managed to attach their limpets and get out of the harbour without raising the alarm, though they were accosted by several river bank bystanders to cries of "get off me fish", their shotguns were well out of range.
Apparently, the first mine had gone off at 3am on the morning of the 8th, but the first to go off in Bordeaux harbour was at 7am. The damage inflicted on the ships was quite severe, one ship's hull was severely pitted and two others needed several coats of fresh paint. Another vessel sank, though this was quite rightly attributed to being torpedoed six months later off the Norwegian coast.
The remaining crews now headed down river to scuttle their canoes and make their escape overland to Spain and back to Britain. Unfortunately, the heroes never made it to Spain never mind back to Blighty. Both crews were later found wholly inebriated by a 'wandering' German security patrol. Having holed up in a notorious nightspot the 'heroes in neoprene' were welcomed somewhat over-enthusiastically by the local clientele; certainly a distinctly novel dimension to the average serviceman's view of what constituted 'The Resistance'.
It is believed they died happy.
(ahem)
For the 'real' story, check it out here
"Of the many brave and dashing raids carried out by the men of Combined Operations Command, none was more courageous or imaginative than 'Operation Frankton'" - Earl Mountbatten of Burma.
The story was dramatised in the 1955 motion picture 'The Cockleshell Heroes' starring José Ferrer and Trevor Howard.
posted by renko at 4/10/2006 11:13:00 AM
0 comments
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Ogwen, Aberglaslyn & Coccyx
Well the first two are fantastic Welsh rivers and the last is my poor ole - whacked good style at the bottom of Ogwen Bank Falls; to witness in all its full glory, right click picture below and 'Save Target As...' to download (Windows Media 2.75Mb).
Great weekend; top paddling, top nosh, top company - oh yes, and the smattering of snow much upped the beauty of it all...
Or maybe the painkillers just enhanced my appreciation (ta Shaunie!)
One for the future - Cresta Run!
Remember - all good things come to those who wait...
Later;)
Great weekend; top paddling, top nosh, top company - oh yes, and the smattering of snow much upped the beauty of it all...
Or maybe the painkillers just enhanced my appreciation (ta Shaunie!)
One for the future - Cresta Run!
Remember - all good things come to those who wait...
Later;)
posted by renko at 3/28/2006 06:18:00 PM
1 comments
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Where Men Are Men...
And Sheep? Well, they're just worried!
Follow the progress of our intrepid Johnnie as he tackles one of the meccas of the paddling world: New Zealand. Check in with his blog here to catch up with some of his adventures.
Jammy Sod;)
Follow the progress of our intrepid Johnnie as he tackles one of the meccas of the paddling world: New Zealand. Check in with his blog here to catch up with some of his adventures.
Jammy Sod;)
posted by renko at 11/30/2005 05:34:00 PM
1 comments
