Junior Rat Catcher

I have just acquired a new member of my expanding household.

I spend a lot of time at my desk and computer, in front of a window that looks out to my garden.

A cheeky mouse, or perhaps a small rat, often ran across the window ledge in front of me.

So I welcomed Music, as Shedney calls her (I prefer Junior Rat Catcher, but she'll never answer to her name anyway, so why bother?).

As you can see, she has adapted very well to life on the desk of an old fart, but I do hope she will demonstrate a little more enthusiasm next time the cheeky mouse crosses the window ledge.

Island Rape

I haven't been off the island for months, because the boat service has been so dire. But I went to Surigao City last Friday. It was a hell of a trip, on the Britphil (the name gives me some pride, but not much) a lancha - that's a big outrigger. The boat was over-filled, and it was raining heavily when I boarded, so I had to squat under a leaking tarpaulin on whatever that decking built out from the boat's hull is called. That was not much fun.

On the way, we passed south of the first small island (Talavera) of the minor archipelago that precedes Surigao City. Sensible boat captains follow this route, rather then the obvious one a bit further north, to avoid the strong tidal whirlpools, etc.

So I saw this, on Talavera, as we passed:

The big orange cloud is dust being kicked up by massive Chinese earthmovers (unlicensed copies of Caterpillars).

A Chinese company has taken up the nickel-mining concessions around Surigao City.

They are taking away the islands, literally, and dumping the ore into freighters that take it to China for processing. You can see one of the freighters to the right in the photo.

The Philippines gets absolutely nothing, except a bung to some politician.

The fishermen and coconut growers who live on the islands get even less. Their peaceful, but very poor, life is disrupted. The fishing is fucked up by mining residue, full of awful elemental poisons, and their coconut trees are destroyed by induced landslides.

So, tough on them. Maybe they can give up their ancient and peaceful lifestyle, and move to Surigao (or some other) City, and be beggars or mendicants of some sort.

All so the Chinese can emulate Americans, with chrome-plated stuff, and nickel-content stainless steel.

Amimintik - Mantis Shrimp

Greg Laden's Blog has a fascinating film about the truly amazing speed that these 'shrimps' move, which is quite unbelievable - they would have put Mohammed Ali in the shade.
It's a fascinating film. We have 'amimintiks' here in the Philippines - they're the spearing species shown in the film. They are extremely fast, and their grabbing arms are lined with needle-sharp spines - very sharp - you can't even handle one without getting pricked.
When you're snorkelling, you can hear them underwater - sharp reports from time to time - not all their efforts result in anything very much.
I featured them at in a tale about Sunday afternoon reef foraging (right at the end):
and I can confirm that they are very tasty indeed - like lobsters but at 1/10the price. Here, they catch the spearers with sprung nooses set just above their sand holes. A bit of springy bamboo, a bit of string, and some fishy bait is all that is needed.
.

At some time in each month, some of them come loaded with 'coral' - eggs, that are the most tasty part. But, unlike lobsters, crabs, etc, that grow their eggs under their bellies, amimintiks grow theirs under the shell of their backs, so they have to moult to give birth.
There's a small local estuary here that no-one will dare cross, because although it is shallow enough, it is full of amimintiks, and they've been known to kill carabaos - the local domesticated water buffalo.

In the two photos above, you can see the creature in full size (about 10" long), and the truly awful structure of its grabbing claws.

But they are very tasty

Why Can't General Luna Make Real Money From Surfing?

Well, GL can, and it does, but not terribly well.

Newquay is a cold, nasty place, but has the only good surfing waves in England.

Read on:
Building bonanza for Cornwall's capital of surf
· Improved transport links make Newquay a hotspot · Well-to-do young invest in apartments and lifestyle

Steven Morris - The Guardian - Saturday January 5 2008
There are two sounds associated with the Cornish resort of Newquay at the moment - the crashing of surf and the clang and clatter of heavy machinery.
While developers in other parts of the UK are gloomily wondering what 2008 holds, their counterparts in the country's surf capital are enjoying boom times. The ever-increasing popularity of surfing, coupled with much-improved transport links to north Cornwall, have created a race to build new and ever more swish apartments.
Chintzy hotels are being turned into trendy apart-hotels - flats with hotel services - while tired guest houses are being converted into studio flats, or surf-pods, as the developers call them.
Two penthouse apartments have just sold for more than £1m, amid rumours that David Beckham was thinking of investing.
All this in a town which until recently had a reputation of a tatty, kiss-me-quick sort of place and is still a favourite haunt of drink-sodden stag parties.
Such is the speed of developments that no one seems sure just how many new homes are being built. But the best guess seems to be that some 1,400 properties are either under construction or going through the planning process.
Stuart Brereton, land director for the south-west with the Acorn Property Group, said young, well-to-do people were keen to invest not just in mortar and bricks but in the surf lifestyle, which generates £42m a year for Cornwall's economy.
[£42m a year - about 3.5 billion pesos - might be a bit much for Siargao to handle, but about a tenth of that might make the island a very rich place indeed - the politicians and foreign investors would take most of it, but some would filter down to the people, and they are the ones who matter]
"It's all about the sea, the surf, the buzz of surfing. A few years ago Newquay seemed a long way from London. Now there are good links to the airport and the roads are much better too."
Acorn has a cluster of developments close to Fistral beach, one of Europe's best for surfing. From its glass and aluminium sales zone overlooking the beach, it has already sold half of the 52 apartments in its Zinc complex, though they will not be ready for more than a year. Ten of the 14 properties in its Pearl development are sold, including £2m-plus penthouses.
The boom is giving established hotels a helping hand. Will Hatfield, owner of the Carnmarth, said that three years ago his customers were almost all pensioners who arrived on a coach. Now he sells his rooms mainly to professionals aged 25-45 at double the rate. "The modern-day surfer isn't a hippy in a VW van," he said. "He's a doctor, a surgeon, a solicitor, a banker. He's flying down into the airport at the weekend or flying down the A30 in his BMW."
The boom is great news for builders. "It's never been like this," said Peter Anstey, who is working on the Ocean Gate development. "There's loads of work for us." But Anstey, who was born and bred in Cornwall, also sees a downside. "Newquay is getting a makeover but the problem is very few Newquay people can afford it."
--------------------------------
...very few Newquay people can afford it.".

That's true of GL too, if local people get cut out of the profitable developments by foreigners who set up their own exclusive enclaves.

(see: Patricks On The Beach for a perfect example of a greedy foreigner who even puts up barbed wire fences to keep the people of Siargao out of his 'exclusive' resort. Follow his link http://www.mojf.org/ to see what his real scam is).

Of course, General Luna people cannot even think about buying some of the new buildings put up by foreigners. But neither can the people of Newquay. They are both restricted to their own old ways of life, but they'll manage.
If a foreigner pours a million pesos into his new luxury house, a Siargeño can build something just as good (and probably better for his lifestyle) for just P100,000. Or, not quite as good, but still very adequate, for P10,000.

Access to Newquay has turned the place around - all it had, until recently, was fishing and a few waves. Now it has good road access from London and other parts of the UK, so you no longer have to spend two days getting there.

Fishing and a few waves is all that General Luna has.

But access to Siargao and GL is extremely difficult

Minimum time from Cebu, the nearest international airport is 24 hours, including one overnight boat trip, a six-hour wait in Surigao City, and a 3-4 hour trip to Siargao. If you mis-time it, it can take a day longer. Don't forget, also, that the visitor may have already been travelling, by air, for 6-18 hours.
If the Island's politicians had any brains at all the very first thing they could do to help tourism along would be to organise the boat schedules.
Why do all the boats leave at about the same time?
(6am from Siargao, 12 noon from Surigao City to Siargao? No alternatives).
Does whoever gives them the license to run have no control at all over their schedules?
(Or is it, as most island residents think, a conspiracy to concentrate all the work of coastguards, customs, pilots, etc into as short a time as possible so they can rest for the remaining day?)

The boat services treat people like cattle. Why are they allowed to do so?

Then, when visitors arrive in General Luna, they face a horrendous road trip to Cloud 9. It's only about 4km but it can take a good hour of bumpy road travel. In the wet season, the road is almost impassable due to flooding.

This is the most important road for General Luna's prosperity, but it has been entirely neglected.

Our bright new mayor could have saved half the money he spent on fireworks to celebrate his inauguration and for 'his people' at Christmas (that was a total waste of money, because he destroyed the Boulevard where 'his people' could have sat and enjoyed the show).

Perhaps P20000 ($500) could have been spent just on dumping loads of coral rock and sand to fill the potholes between General Luna and Cloud 9

I've driven over most of the island's roads, and although some of them can be said to be bad, this stretch is definitely the worst.

The ever-increasing popularity of surfing, coupled with much-improved transport links have brought prosperity to Newquay, that cold, chilly place in England

but, here in GL, a tropical island paradise, our politicians don't seem to have given any real thought about how their town could make some real money from surfing, and no thought whatever about what they could do to help.

I like fireworks, very much, but I'd prefer to do without them and have a decent road.

King of the Gossip

A few weeks ago, I received a strange e-mail:
------------------------------------------------
Date: Thu, 8 Nov 2007 04:50:35 -0800 (PST)
From: "roy" (bernhard@yahoo.com) Add to Address Book
To: richardparker01@yahoo.com
Subject: Notes From a Small Island : GL's Public Park Killed
roy has sent you a link to a blog:

Richard Parker the king of the gossip in siargao island

Blog: Notes From a Small Island
Post: GL's Public Park Killed
-------------------------------------------------
Which I thought was a compliment.

If, after all, I'm gossiping about island life, what's better than to be King of it?

Well, bernhard@yahoo.com doesn't exist as an email address. "Roy" is a Belgian resident of the town, who feels much as I do about a certain Andreas.
So, it was a bit of clever computer hackery, used very stupidly.
Then, this week, I was out swimming in the sea just opposite my back garden (which I have to reach by a 200 yard detour because Andreas has closed off my right of way to the sea) and I heard and saw his young son, the eponymous Patrick, standing on the high tide mark, shouting:
"Richard - Hari nan Chismis" - "Richard - The King of Gossip!"
I ignored him completely, and that certainly riled his mother, who used to be such a nice young lady.

So now I know where my mysterious emails come from.

Tree Chopper

My wonderful neighbour, Andreas Mikolewicz, a German-Polish-American fellow who is trying his damnedest to "Car-ibb-e-anise" this lovely island, has started to chop down what is left of the local forest.

(Well, it's not really a local forest, it's a couple of bits of feral coconut plantation to the left and right of the road that leads out of GL towards Cloud 9, the 'famous' surfing spot).
It used to be a sort of green forest gateway; an archway of coconut palms leading out of the town.

But then, Andreas 'bought' the land to the left, a couple of years ago.
The local people, through their barangay council, complained bitterly that he left it to waste. The dropped coconut fronds were never cleared up, and other plants couldn't grow through them, so, for about 100 metres on the left hand side of GL's gateway to Cloud 9, there was a vermin-ridden wasteland (rats like coconut-frond-sheltered homesteads).

The inhabitants of Mabua (Purok Alingit) on the right hand side, who have built their huts amongst the coconut trees, without destroying any of them, became a bit concerned. (They have a right to be so; Andreas has cut off their access to their local swimming hole, set dogs on their children, and put up a concentration-camp-style barbed wire fence to keep them off his his 'property').

Now he's chopped all those coconut trees down (I think he really doesn't want to pay anything for 'his own' timber, and probably has plans for a highway strip mall leading out from GL).

If you think I'm exaggerating about the hypocrisy of this fellow, then read his website:

Quote:

"HAVE YOU EVER BEEN HUNGRY? I mean really hungry – if not picture this!
Mentally place your home in an area without running water and electricity. Now remove EVERYTHING in your house that uses either electricity or running water. Remove all carpeting and stuffed furniture, including the bed. Replace this with a straw mat or cardboard. No floors, no slab, just bare earth and a leaky roof made of leftover tin and damaged plywood. Take out all the screens in your house. While you’re at it remove the windows and the doors. No grass around the house. Got a good picture? Good. Now picture yourself with no car, or bike, or shoes for that matter.
No job, No unemployment or No welfare checks. You have No money, No bank accounts, No credit cards, No refrigerator, No ice and No food. You are hungry, and to make matters worse, your children are hungry. On top of that they are sick, full of worms and usually naked. This is the AVERAGE home in Haiti, Philippines, Africa and India.
These are people just like you and me except born with little or no hope and no opportunities.
We invite you to meet some of these wonderful & special people:
Yes, here are several opportunities that you truly can make a difference! Especially now with all the dreadful world events we have an opportunity to show the world especially those who don’t like us that we really care. With a little help by everyone we not only can save the lives of millions of starving children but we will also plant the seed of “To Love – To Care – To Share” to guarantee a better future for those we don’t know as well as our children.
1. Opportunity #1 – Receive “A Gift For Your Donation”
2. Opportunity #2 ”Become a MESSENGER OF JOY” Fundraiser Partner Our Partners are rewarded with Financial Benefits, Reduced and Free Vacations & Lots of great Savings.
3. Visit our Beach Resort & Orphanage Sanctuary in the Siargao Island in the Philippines.
4. Purchase our products Dried Fruits and Wood Carvings

Address:
Messenger Of Joy Foundation
14721 S. Biscayne River Drive
Miami, FL 33168
Tel (305) 687-4107
Fax (305) 769-9924
andreas@mojf.org

Rain

The rainy season has begun.
A few years ago, I claimed that Siargao was the wettest place in Asia, based on a highly unscientific experiment.
Last night we had a shower, one of many over the past few days, so, this time, I set up a rigourously-controlled scientific measuring device, at about 9:45pm.
- A bucket, placed in the middle of the lawn.
This morning, the bucket was nearly full, so I measured the depth of water in it - 25cm.
Then I did various abstruse calculations to correct for the sectional conical shape of the bucket, but the difference was minimal.
That's right; about 10 inches of rain - overnight

Added - 14/12/07 - a bit later:

1 inch rain = 6.25 inches snow

This is an average value though. Colder areas will have a lower number while warmer areas will have a higher number.
http://forum.onlineconversion.com/showthread.php?t=225

But, earlier on, in the same discussion, someone wrote that his grandfather reckoned 10 inches of snow for every inch of rain.

Either way, you will get our equivalent:-
10" * 6.25" = 5 feet 2 inches of snow
or 10" * 10" = 8.3 feet of snow

Thank God it doesn't snow here. Five feet of the damned stuff would entirely cover Shedney, my 'companion'.

------------------------------
W Somerset Maugham wrote a classical story Rain
which starts out:
"It was nearly bed-time and when they awoke next morning land would be in sight. Dr. Macphail lit his pipe and...."

But even before that, Rudyard Kipling wrote: Mandalay:
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

I really don't think, now, that Kipling ever went to Mandalay, in the very middle of the country, or to the old Moulmein Pagoda, about 400 miles away. China was near, but never 'crost the Bay. It was, and still is, due north where the dawn is unlikely to come up, let alone noisily.

But the bit that really got me (although "There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me; For the wind is in the palm-trees..." does ring certain sentimental bells) was:

I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted Henglish drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do they understand?
Beefy face an' grubby 'and --
Law! wot do they understand?

I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On the road to Mandalay . . .

And that got me into this mess, where I came to avoid the world-famous English climate .

Baking Oven 2

Well, I thought we done it right. I looked it up on the internet, Ron and Mitzboard fetched the clay from the carabao wallow, and the sand from the beach, and we (sorry, they) started work.

First, we made a sand hill as a mould for the oven interior (see all the preliminaries at Baking Oven - 1). Then we made Layer 1 - Dense layer over this sand hill, which was enveloped closely in a black plastic garbage bag.

For Layer 2, we didn't have straw, as insulation and strengthening, so used wood shavings instead. We never really got around to Layer 3, which was going to be a fine ceramic covering, 2/3 clay and 1/3 buffalo shit.

The final product was quite impressive - Moloch with a hangover.
Firing up the oven, however, revealed Moloch's weaknesses.
He just cracked up, raining down bits of fragmented clay down from the interior ceiling. If I'd actually got round to trying to cook that wonderful bread, or a great pizza, they'd have been topped with dried mud lumps.

So now we've started all over again. I've had some more brainwaves (after all those phony claims about going back to 5000 year-old traditions). I'll let you know if they work.