The Port of Felixstowe

"A work trip with a difference"

On Friday I visited one of my employer's clients to help me write up a report we are doing - a joint entry for a training award.

Duncan, the man I went to visit, also wanted to show me round the port. Now, I guess a lot of folks aren't going to be excited by rubber tyred gantries, big ships and containers - but to see the Port in full flow was fascinating. Something like 15 million containers are moved through the UK every year (it's growing every year too) and Felixstowe handles around a third of these - thats a lot of 20 foot metal boxes! Seeing them stacked, seeing them lifted on and off 'tugs' (the internal transports that shuffle the containers around) and then up onto the ships was amazing. The scale - the sheer scale of everything was impressive.

Duncan took me in a port car up to the edge of the quay, so I could see closely how it all worked. He took me round Landguard, the older quayside which has a shallower draft (around 11 metres for those interested) where smaller ships still come in (I say small - still looked huge to me!) and eventually to the original dock which was the very first place ships (old sailing cargo ships) would have come in. It looked so small compared to the rest of the port. Soon they are going to fill it in, turn that whole area into a massive new quayside - but it was amazing to think that ships - from tall sailing ships, through steamers to modern ships - had probably come in there over the last couple of hundred years.

Bringing spice from the Indies, fruit from Africa, silk from Samarkand, timber and minerals from the Americas... and Christmas decorations (on the largest container ship ever to dock in the UK) from China. The older images are more romantic, eh?

Yeah, I guess to be accurate I should go look up my maritime history, but the port today is crucial to both the local and national economy. They have rail, ship and lorry (external hauliers, internal tugs) to coordinate, thousands upon thousands of containers (and they know where any one is at any time) and ships coming in and out all day, every day (except Christmas day and Boxing day). There's about 3000 people working at the port, yet one of those huge great ships only needs 12 people to operate it. Amazing.

The scale of things is what impressed me most - the gantries are huge, the stacks of containers make the final scene of 'Raiders of the Lost Arc' look unimpressive - and the number of 'moves' - each time a container is shifted - incredible.

It takes quite an operation to run all this, which is why I was visiting Duncan (we trained some of his Operations Staff) and unlike manufacturing, for example, there are so many variables to account for - weather, for one. No matter how much you computerise systems, you still have to account for people, weather and other unpredicatables.

I enjoyed the visit, and was impressed by Duncan's obvious enthusiasm for his job too. I learned a lot and I got my report written with far more insight than if I hadn't visited.

Will I get a song out of it? Not sure - too many darn good sailing songs out there already (mind you, I might finish my "Mary Rose" one eventually).

Here's some further information about the planned expansions, with a bit of history too: www.dft.gov.uk

And here's a more detailed page with historical info: www.portoffelixstowe.co.uk

Indian School

"A piece of American history I never knew"

On my last full day in the US we visited the Heard Museum in Phoenix. The museum was set in a Spanish colonial style building and comprised collections of Indian artifacts including basketwork, pottery and the intriguing Katsinca 'dolls' - intricate models that were used for teaching the children about Indian religion. The exhibits showed how the different peoples lived, from the farming Pueblo nations to the nomadic tribes and also how they live today.

The exhibit that I found most extraordinary though, was the Indian Schools. The picture above shows a Navajo called 'Tom Torlino' - doesn't sound very Indian, does it? The picture on the left is how Tom was when he arrived at the school, on the right after he'd been there a while. Now, as you can see, Tom was a young man not a child. But children were sent - forcibly taken from their homes and sent - to the Indian Boarding schools from as young as five years old.

You see, 'taming the savage' by sending him to school and turning him into a little American was one way of 'solving the Indian problem'. Indian problem? Oh, the fact that they were occupying land that ... well, I guess historically I have to say 'we' (being of Anglo/Norman descent) wanted. Take George Washington, that paragon of liberation who freed the US from the Brits... he said “…(They) were wolves and beasts who deserved nothing from the whites but 'total ruin.” Um... guess they aren't going to use that quote often in modern history teaching?

The exhibit at the Heard was moving - the schools only closed as recently as the 1930s I think. This is quite a good site: "http://historyday.crf-usa.org/1712/introduction.html" with a basic introduction if you want to learn more.

So I wanderd round the exhibit with Nadine - looking at black and white photos of Indian children clutching each other in panic and pain, lined up like little Edwardian children, dressed in European style clothes, and the hair of the men shorn and neatly parted. To most Indian tibes, the cutting off of hair indicated that a man was a coward. So, these kids - perhaps as young as five, perhaps as old as 16, were taken from their homes, shaven, their clothes taken from them, the names taken from them, and then taught basic skills and 'how to be American'. This was one 'solution' to the Indian problem. Beats what Mr Jefferson wanted to do: “…(The US should) “pursue [Indians] to extermination, or drive them to new seats beyond our reach."

And hey - didn't it just work out fine? Didn't they get just what they wanted? A completely assimilated race who just fit neatly into the American model of a perfect citizen? Well, I guess not. No matter how many cultures try to overtake another - be it Japan invading China, Germany invading Poland or England invading India... it never works. Cultures that have been in existence for thousands of years cannot be wiped out through forced assimilation.

I have no idea what we as people have learned from this throughout history - I have a nasty feeling that this desire to conquer and convert (culturally, religiously or even in appearance if you want to look at celebrity 'worship') is such an ingrained part of human nature that, as a species, we won't ever really stop or change. We may intellectually examine the options, and decide what is morally right or wrong, but when it comes to the 'crunch' (and the next one on the calendar is probably not going to be world war three but global warming in my humble opinion), we will revert to our most basic of instincts.

I never met or spoke to any Native Americans (apart from one shop assistant who sold me a great hat) when I visited the US, but I did learn a lot from my visit to the Heard. I asked Nadine if she had any cultural attachment - any sense of belonging - to the Native Americans? She said no, she felt her cultural history was that of the settlers in her history who came over to the US from Scotland and Ireland.

I thought about it. My personal family history is easy to trace (on my father's side). I have two massive family history volumes with pictures, photographs, family trees going back centuries. But my family came over with the Normans. Do I feel culturally part of the UK, which - I guess if you go far back enough - is Anglo Saxon and Celtic? I don't know. More to the point, I don't feel the importance of being 'English' in that way; as a Norman or a Celt. I'm just English. I love my heritage - this country and it's rich cultural variation. I also love going to other places and exploring and finding out about other cultures. I understand that as an 'imported' race, the whites in the US have as many and varied cultures as the Indians have tribes, so I understand that Nadine's 'emotional' attachment to the Native Americans is perhaps best described as one of shame at what our ancestors did. Much as I feel when I read about the many atrocities the English committed in countries all round the world in the name of 'Empire' and - oh yeah! - civilisation. We tried quite a bit of that 'taming the savage' stuff across the world, not just in the US. Don't think it's all in the dim and distant past either - there is some awful stuff we have done as a nation that is very much in living memory.

I understand that unless I set aside another lifetime for studying, I could never begin to grasp all the implications of the effects the Indian Schools had on the indiginous race and culture. So much must have been lost in that time, snatched from childhood. But much survives. And you can't crush spirit - and spirit seems to outlive every atrocity that mankind heaps upon mankind somehow.

I found more pictures on this site: www.nativeamericans.com but if you have a site you think may be of interest to anyone that this story has stirred some interest in, please post a comment or let me know.

See what a trip to a museum can bring? (By the way, my myspace site now has a song I wrote about the Indian School - http://www.myspace.com/98749481

Gambling bear

"We teach Paddington to gamble"

On our way back from the Grand Canyon we stopped for supper at the Cliff Castle Casino. This is an Indian casino run by the Yavapai-Apache Nation and is on the hills by Montezuma's Castle. We tried to see the castle on the way out but the signposts weren't clear, so we missed that particular tourist hot spot.

But at 9pm, when we arrived back at the Casino after our trip, we entered for some supper. The main room, an atrium almost, was full of slot machines going 'bing bing bing' and people literally plugged in to them. Not feeding coins or notes in one by one, but plugged in with credit card type inputs that were attached to the players by long coiled cords. It had a rather eerie feeling - sort of 'Matrix'. Every pull of the handle, money disappeared.

I had a go just to say I'd done it. I put in a five dollar bill, pulled the handle a few times - no jingle of winnings, no flashing lights - actually, absolutely no attraction whatsoever! We played the money out to the last 25 cents which I then received a little printed slip for. OK, I could have cashed it but the truth is we saved it as a souvenir. A 25 cent souvenir that cost me $5.... so, you telling me that this isn't a mug's game?

Rooms to the side had poker players huddled round tables, but the whole thing was rather... how can I put it? Like anything you see on TV and then visit in 'real life', it was kind of tame. I'm sure the players were having 'fun' - but it didn't appeal to me (and I have to say I am a useless poker player, just ask Alex!).

We wanted to eat, but the burger bar next to the bowling alley (all part of the casino) was closed. Well, got to keep the kids busy whilst you pour their inheritance down the drain, eh?

We went into the main restaurant and I had Indian fry bread with refried beans, chilli, cheese... oh, loads of stuff on it! Delicious. So, I sort of had an Indian meal, but I'm so confused with the cultures (Indian, Mexican, American) that I'm not sure I'd say it was 'authentic'. Whatever, it was very nice and very filling.

After we'd eaten it was time to hit the road, but we wanted a photo of Paddington Bear to send to Cathy. Paddington was our 'Cathy substitute' for the week, so we took pictures of him in all sorts of situations. Now, taking photos in a Casino is not really on, but we asked nicely and the Head of Security, a chap called Dave (and not a Native American, incidentally) cleared it with 'management' and took a photo of us with Paddington at some slot machines.

Poor little bear - we put him in the snow, dragged him round a museum, dropped him in the Botanic Garden (but speedily retrieved) and had him photographed by security... he'd have a few tales to tell if he could talk that's for sure.

Grand Canyon

"Words and pictures cannot do it justice"

I'd asked to visit the Grand Canyon - after all it's in Arizona and it would have been a shame not to see it. So, Sunday we had planned as a family day out. Tomas and Charley, Nadine and I were due to go to the Grand Canyon. But... Tomas had homework and Charley said he should stay home (well, actually, there were two football matches on).

So, once again Nadine and I were off on a (mini) road trip. We'd only got back from California the day before, but a further 200 miles didn't seem to bother her. This time we took the Jeep.

The scenery was once again amazing. This time instead of heading due west (for California) we headed due north, over two mountain ranges. Phoenix to Flagstaff, then Williams and North to the rim of the Canyon.

We'd started off in sunny Phoenix, but headed up to over 7,000 feet altitude, so it was colder and snowy. The snow was a pristine white, the roads however (despite four foot of snow either side) were clear and ice free. I loved it! We stopped for shopping (of course) and also stopped quite simply to play in the snow.

We reached the canyon at about 3pm and the sun coloured the scenery with deep reds and gold. The air was freezing, the skies amazing. Nothing I can say and no pictures I took can do it justice - it is one of the most wondrous natural sights that, if you can, you really should see. I would have loved to visit for longer, maybe fly or balloon - but not this time. I've seen it, it touched me. Nature astounds.

I drove the jeep a small way, enjoying the experience of driving a new vehicle in a new country. I enjoyed making snow angels and watching the changing scenery. All the way there, all the way back, new experiences for my senses - the smell, the sights, the sounds. The birds, the mountains, the roads and the towns... everything new and I drank it all in.

My road companion was patient and kind, and even smoked less in my company!

What can I say? I want to go back. I want to see more of that amazing canyon, of the countryside, of the cities and towns. So much to see and do, so little time! But I had a ball - oh yeah, I had a ball.

Holiday of a lifetime

My trip to America

A long flight from Heathrow to Chicago, then another flight from Chicago to Phoenix, plus a delay from Chicago meant that my travelling time from home to Phoenix was around 24 hours. But it didn't matter! Every moment of travel was worth it!

When I finally arrived at Phoenix airport at around 10pm local time, Nadine was there to meet me. Now, it may seem odd to some, but I had travelled half way round the world to go and visit someone I had never met. Nadine and I are 'internet buddes' - we've known each other for nearly two years via a writing circle we both belong to.

So when I first saw Nadine 'in the flesh' I wondered what she would be like, and wondered what she would make of me. The first thing I noticed was that - hey not really a surprise - she was a lot shorter than me. Or I was a lot taller than her, whichever way you look at it. But meeting her was easy - we found each other's company as easy in person as we did on line. So - now that I'd made it to the US, met Nadine (and her family), there was only one thing left to do... HAVE FUN!

Day one Mait, Nadine's middle son, made us pancakes. Amazing! Nothing like my flat and flaccid offerings. Delicious. We took an easy start to the day and then headed to the Botanic Garden, finishing with a dark climb up the Papago hill. An owl atop the hill hooted and did his impression firstly of a tourist, and then of a coyote, but the 'hoo hoooo, hoo' kind of convinced me that the shadowy outline really was a great horned owl.

More pictures: PictureTrail

Thelma and Louise!

"Road trip!"

no one in the US seems bothered by long drives - perhaps because the country is so big, but more I guess because the roads are good. To travel from Phoenix to Seal Beach in a day (about 350 miles each way) is not a problem; with long straight roads it is easy (we took Route 10 then went down into Seal Beach, South of Los Angeles). But the traffic! Five lanes of road each way and you still sit bumper to bumper (or should that be fender to fender?).

Along the way we saw a real change in the desert scenery, from the cactus laden rocky Arizona desert to the sandy and scrubby bush covered desert of California. I saw some amazing hawks and as we came into Los Angeles County - the haze of the pollution was thick and tainted the air. But the mountain scenery was amazing, and when we eventually hit Seal Beach (we took plenty of stops along the way - no hurry) the sun was almost ready to set.

We checked in at the Paradise Inn (neat little hotel) and headed straight for the beach.

We watched the sun creep towards the horizon then dip down as if it had suddenly made up its mind to set. We wandered round the town briefly then had a meal at a fish restaurant. We were served by the same waitress who had served Nadine and her family three years before! The fish was nice, the potato was cold, but the wine was excellent.

Back to the hotel and a good sleep, but my - Nadine snores! Hey, so do I. I only know she snored as I played a bit of guitar and she promptly fell asleep. I have that effect on people!

The next day we went back down to the beach and I got to dip my toes in the Pacific. It was cold! A bright day, sunny but not warm enough to swim. The surfers wore wet suits, and the fishermen on the pier were wearing coats not just tee shirts. It wasn't cold by UK standards, but this was winter in California.

I talked to some fisherman - they catch 'anything'. Flatfish? I said I used to catch mackeral. 'Yeah, we catch Spanish mackeral, use them as bait.' Spanish mackeral? Do they have an accent? Another fisherman we talked to told us how early in the morning the dolphins swim past, on their way down to Huntingdon beach to feed, then come back in the evening. Out past Catalina island (which was hidden by a sea haze) you can see blue whales.

We did some more shopping, including a trip to a candy store and a book store, then finished a lazy day with dinner at Ruby's diner on the end of the pier. Lots of bright red and a burger, fries and salad that was ample for the two of us to share. Good food, amazing views over the sea, and polite and friendly service.

We ended up the day with a drink in O'Malleys Irish bar. Heaving - barely enough room to stand so it was one drink each, a wander round the shops (they were open late) and then back to the hotel again for another good sleep.

The following morning we headed back to Arizona, but not until we'd done some ... shopping! I went into a music shop but as it seemed to specialise in ukeleles, I didn't make any purchases.

My visit to California was an amazing drive through the countryside and a very relaxed couple of days at Seal Beach 'off season'. I liked it. Yeah - I could go back there again.

More photos: Flickr.com

Learning the American Way

"Baseball in the dark!"

On my last evening (after wonderfully grilled steaks prepared by Charley, Nadine's husband) I asked Tomas, her youngest son, how I should throw an American Football. I'd bought one to take back to my son Alex, so I wanted to show him how to throw it.

"Come outside into the yard.." and out in the yard, the front of the house with the concrete entrance by the drive and the obligatory basektball hoop, Tomas tried to teach me to throw - fingers on the stitches, get it to spin, let go just so...

I sort of got it. We then decided to try baseball (I'd also bought Alex a catcher's mitt and ball) so out came everyone's mitts, a couple of baseball bats and a ball. Now, a yard is not large enough for playing baseball and there are lots of car windows around and - did I mention? - it was dark. Nearly 10pm. Sean (Nadine's oldest son) appeared having been to the store to get supplies to make S'mores. Mmmmm! Graham crackers (a sweetened cracker), marshmallows and Hershey's chocolate.

Sean joined in the games - standing there in the dark in his pale pants (trousers!), hawaiian shirt and trilby hat, swinging a baseball bat. It got sort of surreal at this point so we went in to eat the s'mores.

Melted the marshmallows over an open fire (yes, an open fire in Arizona), put on the crackers with chocolate. All melted together ... wonderful! No calories, of course. Sean was extremely lively and cheerful, enjoying his s'mores and very chatty. Which, considering he'd been awake for nearly 30 hours (with only an hour nap) was quite amazing. I'll never understand their hours...

A day at the botanic garden

"Hummingbirds and cottontails"

The first morning, and I awoke at 5.30am with Sean's alarm beeping madly. By the time I had oriented myself and found the light switch, it had stopped. I went back to sleep and woke at 8am when the dustmen came and emptied the dumpsters.

The trip for the day was the Botanic Gardens. It was beautiful - amazing cacti (barrel, cholla, all sorts!), I saw my first Joshua Tree, and hummingbirds! Wonderful creatures.

I saw cactus wren and many other coloured birds too - but the fun in the evening, at the end of our lovely day at the gardens, was climbing the Papago Hills in the dark and hearing the ghostly hoot of a horned owl!

That night I met Sean's friend Mike - and I played a bit of guitar and sang - very self-conciously!

American dreams

"Time travelling"

My trip to the US arrived! I started from home at 7am on Tuesday morning, then arrived in Chicago, was delayed and eventually arrived in Arizona 24 hours later. However, due to time zones it was still only 10pm Tuesday. I'm a time traveller!

I did write a bit on the plane, but the whole trip from US to UK I sat next to a very quiet Mexican - no conversation whatsoever. My, that was a looooong flight!

At Chicago I needed to buy some supplies, so I found a small Hudson's stand and bought the required item (why now! Not fair, not due for another week...). The tall gentleman at the checkout (see? I'm learning American!) said 'Hey, do I detect an accent? Where are you from?' I answered 'London' and he was charming. 'Have a great time, come back soon' and it actually sounded genuine. Now the security man who saw me through to airside at Chicago said 'Here you go sir' without looking up. Bah. Charmed and insulted in Chicago! Oh yeah, it was rainy too - not windy.

The flight was delayed though so instead of a two hour wait I had a three and a half hour wait. I had one drink at the bar and then just sat and waited. And waited. By the time I got on the flight I was really not with it at all. The plane was cold so I only managed about an hour out of the three to get any sleep. One hour out of 24 - not my usual quotient.

As I flew over the US I noticed that everything was straight lines and so well lit. Empty lots, long empty roads - everything lit up like Christmas. And some buildings too as we came in over Phoenix - outlined in lights to make them look like escapees from a badly drawn cartoon.

When I eventually arrived in Phoenix, more than a little tired, I saw Nadine immediately. She was exactly as I expected. Her smile was wide, her arms too. We hugged like we'd known each other lifetimes, not just 18 months and over the net.

She drove me to her home in her black convertible Mustang (Alex, you'd love this car!) through the city and out into Glendale. Sean, her eldest son, was waiting up for us. We stopped at a Safeway to buy some bread and fruit.

We sat and had a glass (or two) of wine and talked for another two hours. I have no idea if I made any sense whatsoever. Nor if they understood me. But I knew I had arrived. My goodness, I was really in America! Wow, Bryan, I'm here. I'm really here. When I got to bed, I slept well. Very well indeed.