Diving requires a special form of communication - using signals by hand. After all, we are underwater and there is not an easy way to communicate verbally. There are various universal signs that are understood around the world - such as the "OK?" sign, holding the thumb and index finger together in a circle (although we were taught before going to Brazil in 1984 that making this gesture in that country has an entirely different meaning on land, and not something pleasant - take note visitors to this year's Olympics). [Just as an aside, speaking of Brazil, why is it that, if it is a host country for a world event such as the Olympics, they make it so difficult to enter their country by requiring a visa stamped in your passport (at least, coming from America)? Of all the ten different countries in Europe, Africa, Central and South America that I will be visiting this fall, Brazil is the only country for which we were required to get a visa, before being permitted to enter the country. This involves time and money - and for the citizens in the Midwest, there were protests at the Brazilian embassy in Chicago earlier this summer, and that was the only facility at which people from that region of the United States could have their visa processed. Go figure.] Anyway, back to diving. Many dive masters have adopted their own signs for marine-life. Suffice it to say, it's like trying to interpret a foreign language when you are underwater if you are not familiar with all the different signals. Take for example the crown-of-thorns sea star, which is indigenous to Australia but now inhabits areas of the Hawaiian archipelago and preys upon coral formations. A simple hand on top of the head with the fingers spread out above will suffice for this. So, some words/phrases are easy to understand. Others, somewhat harder. But the important point about diving is ensuring safety and awareness of surroundings at all times. Here is where various life lessons can apply. To the divers who like to take photos.... Fine, that's cool. There are some amazing photos you might be able to capture underwater. But for some of us other folks who just like to live in the moment, experiencing things as they come and capturing that experience in our own minds, it can be frustrating to dive with people like you. OK, I'm not trying to generalize, but there are some divers who just don't get it! Just like some drivers, on the road.... but that's probably a whole topic for another day. Take, for example, the person who has a selfie stick extended out four feet in front of them with their underwater camera. Do they realize that with such an extension, they really are missing out on things up close and personal in their own worldview? Sticking that camera up close to the coral or marine-life to get just that perfect picture means that the diver is still four feet behind what it is they are actually trying to see. And, importantly, they are extending their "space" within this underwater environment by an extra four feet. Meaning, it is hard for others to get around or near to experience that frog fish, or nudibranch, or eel, in real time... up close. I now understand the rock-star who is frustrated with all the people holding up their cell-phones to record a picture or video of that moment for some future posterity. By the very nature of doing so, they are missing out on that full experience of the event in real time. The photos all attached here were purchased from one of the dive masters who was taking photos on our underwater excursions. I'd much prefer having it this way - enjoying the full experience of the dive in real time and then have something to reflect back upon later. It's like buying the CD of the concert after the show, where you can experience everything in its entirety at the moment, and then later listen to the music again, recorded in high-quality digital, with sound that really rocks in your Bose headphones, many times after. The frog fish pictured on the left above is the one we saw on our second dive off Lanai at a place labeled Knob Hill by Lahaina Divers (not to be confused with the posh section of San Francisco called Nob Hill). Knob Hill is so named for an igneous knob structure pushed up by volcanic activity right around the level of the safety stop at 15 feet. Our dive master was doing his own little happy dance underwater when he came upon this frog fish at a deeper level within this coral formation. He could not wait to share this experience by snapping his tank to make a pinging noise underwater to get the attention of all the others around him, including the other dive group. Christine was actually lucky enough to see the frog fish swimming freely in the ocean before landing on his perch in the coral. So, what are the life lessons learned from diving. Well, really no different from what your mom or dad may have taught you growing up. Sort of the following rules of life that apply in general:
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Yesterday, Christine and I took a dive boat out of Lahaina Harbor, with Lahaina Divers, to head over to Molokai where there is a dive-site that often has hammerhead sharks. As we headed out, Captain Elliott advised us about the ride over, describing roughly the following (sourced from Wikipedia): "The Pailolo Channel separates the islands of Molokaʻi and Maui. Although the channel is only about 8.4 miles (13.5 km) at its shortest point, it is one of the windiest and roughest in the Hawaiian Islands. Pailolo translates to "crazy fisherman" referring to the typical sea surface conditions and who would attempt to navigate therein." Very true words. With the chop and the swells and the wind and the current, the boat was bobbing up and down, and side to side, never able to navigate a straight line. Captain Elliott wasn't originally scheduled to be our captain of the boat. Instead, Captain Buzz was the scheduled captain for the trip. In the morning, though, he got stung by a bee while getting the boat prepared for the day. He apparently had been stung many times before but, on this particular occasion, after initially feeling fine, he started feeling itchy all over. The other mates had to force feed him benadryl, which they were later told helped save his life from his body's reaction to the occurrence of anaphylactic shock. So, instead of Captain Buzz, we had Captain Elliott piloting our boat, along with Captain Dave, who was there to assist. As well, there were the two dive-masters, Joe (from Michigan) and Nick (from Florida). Sea-sickness can be just a horrible affliction. There is just not much you can do when feeling nauseous out on the water. You are, after all, stuck on a boat. Fortunately for me (and Christine) neither of us experienced such nausea (although Tine admitted later perhaps a little bit before our first dive), but one of the dive buddies in our group was definitely feeling queasy. And, it didn't help that we were in the second group of divers. He didn't throw up, although he did comment later that it was a scarier thought for him thinking about throwing up under water versus experiencing a hammerhead shark up close. Once under the water, though, the rocking motion and sea-sickness dissipates. Along on the trip was Bob. Bob has been diving for longer than I've been alive, having first started in 1959, a year before I was born. He has been coming on this particular dive every time with Lahaina Divers as a paying customer for the last 6 years (the dive boat goes out to Molokai every Tuesday and Friday, and costs $199 per person, although I'm sure Bob probably pays a kamaaina rate - meaning a "locals" rate). We were told he is the only customer of the dive shop who is invited to their Christmas party. Bob has his own special equipment with a rebreather that allows him to stay under water for up to several hours. He dropped in before the first group went in the water for our first dive, and he came up after the last group was out of the water after our second dive, which included a 45-minute surface interval between dives. So, his total down-time was about 2 1/2 - 3 hours. Bob is from an elite group of divers who would dive to great depths to harvest Black Coral in the Hawaiian Islands. We're talking about descending down a couple hundred feet. When you get below about 170-190 feet, the mixture of the air you are breathing becomes toxic and starts to impact the body in ways not healthy. Yet, somehow, there is this fascination with continuing to dive, often to great depths and for long periods of time. We were told by one of the dive masters that there is a new documentary entitled "Black Coral" and that we could do a search on YouTube for a short clip about it. I've attached the link here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCgvXdUWZFU So, what happened with our dive? Well, on the first one, we actually ended up seeing about a half dozen hammerheads - not all at the same time, mind you (so a couple may have been the same ones who just had gone out of sight and then came back into view). On the second dive, we only saw one hammerhead, but he was a big one, probably measuring over 6-feet long. There was also a ton of marine wildlife with colorful fish, coral formations, eels, sea-stars (I almost typed star-fish and then recalled the politically correct term these days is sea-stars - yes, political correctness has even taken to the seas), a puffer fish, and even a sizeable barracuda. It's when you get out into the great wide blue, like the picture below, that things start to get a little surreal - just floating along, neutrally buoyant, as if flying like Peter Pan. And, then (out of the blue... haha) there comes along a great big shark with two eyes spread way apart on this unusual appendage at the front of their snout called a cephalofoil. The variety of hammerheads prevalent in Hawaii are called scalloped hammerheads, or sphyrna lewini. The closest any came to us was probably about 25-30 feet, so I never felt uneasy swimming freely in the water with them. I would, however, make sure I looked all around and knew where they were at all times. Whoops. I got caught up in other travels (this time to Maui for a week with my daughter) so I never made the time yesterday to post anything. I'm sure I'll be making up for it in the fall with all the postings of my extraordinary travel adventures. Even then, though, I may not have the ability to post something every single day since there is rather limited wi-fi aboard the ship. I'm told that passengers end up getting into port and go to the nearest Internet cafe to upload (and download, too, I guess) a bunch of stuff before heading off on their excursions within that particular country. While I do want to get in the habit of writing all the time, it's more about quality than quantity at the end of the day. Right? And I hope the photos will be a good log of my journey as well. What am I doing in Hawaii? Well, Christine came out here with a college friend about a week ago and, when her friend left yesterday, I came out to join her. Her friend, Alexandra (Alex), had never been to the Islands, despite being quite worldly, having grown up in Manhattan. Alex wanted to learn how to scuba dive; Christine got certified years ago when I introduced her and her brother to diving. Christine already logged five dives, including a night dive with Alex as Alex's first open-water dive. Diving is something we both look forward to doing this week with our time out here, and we hope to log about the same number of dives as Christine has done already. Being the more adventurous type, Christine would like to do some more advanced dives like a dive with the possibility of seeing hammerhead sharks off Molakai or drift-diving the back-side of Molokini. I'm looking forward to a nice relaxing time with Christine while here in the Islands. But I have to say... kids these days... She will have had the opportunity to get twice as many dives in as I will, and be here twice as long! And, her friend Alex is now on her way to Italy where she will be sailing the Amalfi coast with some other friends. Guess I shouldn't envy her too much; her world will be completely upside down, being twelve time zones away from Hawaii. How can you not love the ocean with its amazing marine wildlife? I learned tonight at dinner, with a representative from Semester at Sea, that the Semester at Sea program has about 65,000 living alumni. That is an impressive number. But when you consider that Harvard University has over 370,000 living alums, I guess it kinda pales in comparison. But what also really pales in comparison is the endowment for the Semester at Sea program, relative to Harvard's. Whereas Harvard has an endowment of over $36 billion (yes, that is billion with a "b"), Semester at Sea's endowment is only about $2-3 million. Not much for a rainy day. I went to Harvard (the business school), and I also went on Semester at Sea. I give to both institutions. I would like to think generously. And sure, for me, one was a two year program that taught me many skills for the business world whereas the other was simply a semester on board a ship, visiting about 10 different countries around the globe. However, when I think about the value I gained from both experiences, and the network of people and friendships retained, I'd almost have to say that they are roughly equivalent in terms of life experiences. After all, one is designed to make us all better global citizens in thinking about challenging problems around the world. Well, really, both are to some degree. But it is with the Semester at Sea program that one learns so much more about the world in such a short period of time - and all of this first hand. One also learns all this at such an impressionable age. And the bonding experience one gains is unparalleled. When one ponders on all this, it begins to make one think about what is the true purpose and role of education (and why is the growing cost of tuition so high)? One could ask a number of other different questions here. First might be, what does Harvard do with all that money? Over $36 billion! Of course, the answer is easy. Continue to improve upon the quality of its program and experience for its students. The same could be said about Semester at Sea. But this program doesn't have the same sort of money to spend on itself. So which is more worthy? Well, that's probably not the right question to ask. Both have their place and purpose. I would want both of them to have unlimited resources to spend on continuously improving program enhancements, and the overall quality of the experience. That's just not feasible. Now, though, when I think about where my dollars (and, really, all three t's - time, talent, and treasure) can have a greater impact, I realize which program is probably more deserving at this particular juncture. “Whereas the tourist generally hurries back home at the end of a few weeks or months, the traveler belonging no more to one place than to the next, moves slowly over periods of years, from one part of the earth to another. Indeed, he would have found it difficult to tell, among the many places he had lived, precisely where it was he had felt most at home.” ― Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky I came across this quote posted on Facebook by an old hometown acquaintance. I thought, how apropos. This could be the basis of what I write about tonight. I never read, nor even heard of, The Sheltering Sky, before tonight but it's worth a look (or I simply could be lazy and watch the movie that was adapted from this 1949 novel). I would like to prefer to think of myself as a traveler, not a tourist. World Sea Tourist just doesn't sound right - does it? Yes, World Sea Traveler... this has an entirely different association. A better ring to it, if you ask me. When we were aboard the ship with Semester at Sea those thirty some odd years ago, there was a party hosted one night called the "Tacky Tourist Night" and it was amazing how we all could pull together clothes to wear that would fit the bill just right. And, of course, the zinc-oxide on the nose fit in well, too. Photos of photos are hard to reproduce with the lighting source being all out of whack and all that but you get the idea. Americans behaving badly. Or, as we used to call them - ugly Americans. Yes, that term probably has a similar and yet entirely different meaning today. But still very much in use around the world. Back then, we were very much aware of "ugly Americans" and certainly did not want to be considered one. Despite our awareness, though, I'm sure we stood out everywhere we went around the globe. Perhaps not as "ugly Americans" but more likely self-entitled, spoiled, rich kids. Not true of everybody, of course. So easy to generalize. Maybe in this day and age, we need to get away from such generalizations. I think this is one contributor to the polarization we are seeing around the world in so many instances. But that's a subject for another day. The "Tacky Tourist Night" party was held before our first port of call. Thinking back, maybe this was all very intentional to get us to think about this excursion we were on and understand the difference between a tourist and traveler. I think it's probably hard to be a "tacky traveler" - but "tacky tourist", yes so much easier with which to relate and for us to define the difference through what we wore and how we considered acting within our upcoming host countries. Maybe just me but I was determined not to be considered a "tacky tourist" or "ugly American" on my travels around the globe. I wanted to embrace the places I visited and learn what I could with an open mind. And that is what I intend to do with this upcoming trip. I was first introduced to High West Whiskey in the winter of 2009 when I was on a ski trip to the Park City, Utah area. An old friend from growing up in Connecticut now lives in Park City, after both he and his wife left the canyons of Wall Street and the world of high finance for the canyons of Utah, with its far more idyllic scenery. He had recently made an investment in this company, which only a couple years before, in 2007, became Utah's first legal distillery in over one-hundred thirty years. Yes, when people think of Utah, they often think about how this is a relatively dry state. But here was a small distillery, located right in downtown Park City, started by David Perkins, a former biochemist, and his wife Jane, after they moved to the Park City area in 2004. The first legal distillery since 1870! Park City itself wasn't even incorporated until 1884. What made me think of this? We were out to dinner in a small restaurant in San Mateo, and they happened to have High West Whiskey in their bar. This is not something you often find since this less than 10-year old company had its humble beginnings with only a 250-gallon still as it opened its distillery and saloon in a former livery stable and garage in 2009, in downtown Park City. High West now has a 1,600-gallon copper still in Wanship, Utah, which opened just last year. Small production still, though (sorry, no pun intended)! As we were driving home from dinner, I realized I hadn't written a blog-post yet today. I am determined to post something new every... single... day! This will become a far more interesting web-site once my travels begin (and then, of course, I will have so much more to write about and share with photos). Then, I will want to post something new and interesting about my travels all the time, but for now I am just trying to get into the habit of writing - thinking about different and interesting topics. As my friend, Jennifer, advised me, just write about anything that comes to your mind. The important thing is that I am writing. To get in the habit. As I reflected on this particular topic today, I realized, too, that often we take for granted the finer things in life here in America. I will be on a trip to foreign lands where life is not easy. Just access to basic necessities can be difficult in many of the places we will be visiting. And yet, here I was, having dinner in San Mateo, CA, able to enjoy a glass of High West Whiskey - Campfire (my favorite of their whiskeys - a blend of straight rye whiskey, straight bourbon whiskey, and blended malt scotch whiskey). As the name suggests, this particular varietal has a smokey flavor, reminiscent of a campfire. One cool thing about High West Whiskey is that, since it is of such limited production, every single bottle is individualized, with a hand-written number for both the batch and the bottle. There is no possible way that in the middle of somewhere like Senegal I will have the luxury of finding a fine blended whiskey anywhere near the quality of High West. Just a simple reminder to savor what we have here in America. I know I will come back from my travels a changed individual, and probably the most difficult adjustment factor will be re-assimilating into this country of abundance. I guess I should hope, for the sake of my children, sister, and significant other, that I don't decide simply to give away all my worldly possessions upon my return... Definitely, though, I will have a finer appreciation of life and I'm sure I will continue to count my blessings each and every day. I enjoy playing golf. It's a gentleman's sport that provides a modicum of recreation and exercise. It can also be an incredibly frustrating activity when things just don't seem to be going your way. That's because it is as much mental as it is physical.
I'm not exactly sure how I chose this subject to write about today. Perhaps because I was talking about the yin and yang of travel yesterday. Or, maybe it's just because I played this morning. Oh, I played OK, but not one of my better rounds. No matter how hard I try, or how much I practice, I can't seem to improve my game very much anymore. My handicap seems to be stuck at just over bogey golf (for those who don't know, that would be defined as hitting one over the designated par for a hole), which some people, I suppose, would be happy with. Not so much for me, though. I think it's because there are times when I can play better and I think to myself - "see what you have the potential to do?" Today I was teamed up in a foursome to play with our 4-time club champ. He can drive the ball very far off the tee. But today he demonstrated to me that even he can have issues with the game. Oh, sure, he still played par for the course on our 18-hole round, but he bogeyed all the par 3 holes, which, for him, should probably be some of the easier holes. It truly is a game of opposites. They say, don't grip the club too tight ("hold it as if you are holding a bird" - said Sam Snead), but supposedly Arnold Palmer used to grip his clubs tight. It's all so individual and personal and it's all in how things feel right for you. We all adapt our bodies to adjust for certain things when we swing the golf club. Personally, I've had right shoulder issues for a number of years. One time, when I went to an orthopedic doctor to discuss the problem, he had an x-ray taken before he saw me and the moment he walked in the room, he looked at the picture on the computer screen and exclaimed, "well, there's your problem!" He went on to explain that I have no cartilage left in my shoulder so there is just bone-on-bone, and that is why sometimes it hurts (and the way the muscles have tightened up around my shoulder to "protect" it, explains why I don't have full-range of motion). But I've adapted to be able to swing a golf club (or tennis racquet - though, serving in tennis can sometimes be problematic). Reading up on the subject, I came across an article by Arnold Palmer describing the "feel" for the game. He even described a tip from Ben Hogan about drinking ginger ale everyday since it has diuretic properties that "drains you of excess fluid and can make your hands feel wiry" which supposedly allows for a better feel with the club. Now this is something new to me and, if you are like me, I will try anything in order to try to improve my game. Time to put ginger ale on the grocery shopping list. Back to this game of opposites, I find that if I really slow my swing down, I hit the ball farther and more accurately. It's all in the tempo, people say. So many things to think about and remember with this game. This reminds me of a story of when I was playing with our pro once and before I was about to make a shot, he asked me what I was thinking at that precise moment. I told him, "Nothing. I thought that's one of the secrets - to just clear your head." Very zen-like, I know. Obviously, he was more interested in what thoughts I had about the mechanics of my swing, whereas I, being somewhat intimidated by the question, was describing how I knew what I should be doing and was just trying to clear my mind of all thoughts simply to allow my body to follow through with what the mind knew should happen. Silly how simple it all should be. Hit this little white ball 60 (if you're a pro), 70, 80, or (as if often the case with me) 90 some odd times around the course into a hole, 18 different times. The trick is to get focused, or in the zone, with each and every shot you take. That's the hard part. I hit a great drive to follow that up with a duffed second shot. Or, that 4-foot putt that I can so easily make on the practice green from all different angles suddenly seems like the hardest thing to do. Focus. So many things in life can be learned from the game of golf. Mostly about keeping a balance. The magic number is 64! 64 days until we board the World Odyssey in Hamburg, Germany, and set sail for our adventure. I realize I've started every blog-post (but the first) with just words. Pictures have so much more meaning, however. And, I came across this photo yesterday on Facebook, posted by the Semester at Sea group. I realized, I had to start my "writing" today with this photo. Oh, how I love the sea. The great big blue expanse of ocean stretching out behind a ship like this, as far as the eye can see. All the way to the horizon. And, then, if you are lucky enough to see the sun setting over the water without any clouds in the sky, you may get to see the "green flash". Optical illusion? Not sure. But the moment the sun sets, your eyes perceive a green flash before the light is entirely gone below the curvature of the earth. Close, but no cigar. Still bright yellow with no sign of a green flash. But, maybe because the moment was not perfectly captured (twelve seconds too soon?). Or, maybe the clouds on the horizon inhibited the green flash from occurring. Whatever the case, the sun is still a brilliant yellow color in the photo above. It is funny, though, how the sun seems to dig a little "divot" in the ocean. I never tire of such a view. Sunsets over the water. The pastoral display of colors dancing off the clouds in the sky. How many times will I be out on deck watching this very moment in the months to come? I hope for almost every single occasion we have to see such a beautiful sight. I'm not sure if I am more excited about being on a ship on the water, or visiting the ports in the various countries far away. Both hold their own fascination. For different reasons, of course. As I think about it, the juxtaposition of emotions will be my yin and yang of travel. In one instance there will be quiet solitude with moments for self-reflection as the only sounds heard may be the quiet hum of the ship's engines; in the next instance, there will be bustling craziness with sounds of a foreign language penetrating the air and experiences never dreamed about to take hold. Both require attention to the moment, but one provides peaceful serenity while the other requires attentiveness with almost every cell of my body to all my senses and the thrill of anticipation of what comes next. Fear of the unknown? Yes, there will be a little of that. Thoughts of danger? Maybe at moments. New sights, sounds, smells, feelings ("hmm, what strange, rough, coarse hair this camel has, carrying me on his back..."). This is what makes this particular trip so exhilarating. Being in one country one moment, doing things and seeing places never before experienced, and then being back aboard the ship with time to reflect upon what just happened. And then starting it all over again with the next port of call - a different country with a different language and different sights and different sounds and different smells and different feelings; all new experiences! And then, back on the ship with time to reflect again. Peacefully. As I gaze out over the ocean. Waiting to see the green flash. So here is how the world works in its mysterious, serendipitous way. My friend who does work with the Burning Man organization may have been able to hook me up with some tickets for the event this year with another Burner who is a part of the Iron Monkeys art crew. And it was this woman who told me about Pyraegea, which is a week-long burn event in the waters of Greece, that is inspired by Burning Man and countless other burn events around the globe…
Now, it happens to start on September 17th and goes until the 24th. We arrive in Piraeus, Greece on the 19th. How cool would this be to go to Burning Man at Black Rock City in the desert in Nevada the week before I leave for my journey of self-discovery (JoSD - my new name for my exotic excursion) and, then, at our first port of call, I can reunite with Burners from Greece on the waters of Argosaronikos Gulf, Greece? Hmmm... certainly something worth thinking about and exploring further. JoSD! I like this. This is my journey of self-discovery. I need to find that inner child within me that so long ago got buried by the burdens of responsibilities related with aging and taking on adult demands. Who am I? What am I here for? What is the meaning of life? My life? How can I become a better human being? Why are we here on this earth? So many questions! Cultivating different passions and just letting my heart guide me is something I am so looking forward to doing. It's after 10 pm at night and, yes, this is getting past my bedtime. That's what happens when you get older. You get tired earlier. So I try to start that bedtime routine somewhere around now. Invariably, it goes something like this. Before heading upstairs, I let the dogs out to be sure they have done their final business for the evening before retiring for the night myself. Then, I make sure all the lights and the radio in the kitchen are turned off. Now, don't forget about the cookie treats for the dogs. Yes, bribery of sorts. It gets them upstairs and into our room (but Coco likes to stand at the top of the stairs ready to grab the treat right out of my hand). So then there are my own activities - go to the bathroom, wash my face, brush my teeth... Then, when in bed, there's always the unwind - read something, watch the evening news, check the weather forecast, etc. Lights out and roll over to go to sleep.
Just trying to type this makes me tired. It really is time for bed and I haven't posted anything, yet. Have to write something... anything. Good night! |
CONRAD B. HERRMANN
INVESTMENT PROFESSIONAL AND TRAVELER EXTRAORDINAIRE Archives
March 2020
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