Thursday, May 17, 2007

All about the unheroic slog

Aah production work. It’s not glamorous that’s for sure, and it’s always a moveable feast. But it’s all that’s been happening on There once was an Island since Briar and Zane got back, so there’s not much else to talk about right now.

You’re probably wondering what’s been happening and why it’s been so important that no one has updated the blog for the last millennium, and the simple truth is that it’s all about the bottom line. Along with Briar and Zane, I know that there are only a finite number of hours in a week, and when a good chunk of them are spent engaged in other work, work that can offer a paycheck, the time spent on the film shrinks and often comes a poor second.

Here's what's been happening - more or less: Immediately on their return from the island Briar and Zane walked into different short-contract editing jobs, which took up pretty much all of their waking hours. Fortunately I work four evenings a week at nzherald.co.nz, and so that left – gosh – a whole 7 days and three nights into which I could squeeze work on the film – who needs sleep?

We started editing a promo reel at ImagesPost about the time that Briar and Zane got back, something that was only possible because of the amazing generosity shown by Paul and Grant who run the facility. The lovely Prisca Bouchet started helping us with the monumental task of digitising and editing a very large amount of footage, and I found that my plans to get funding applications started had to be put on hold to get as much footage logged and digitised as possible.

After much titivating the promo was duly finished and dispatched with our application for post-production funding to the Screen Innovation Production Fund and we’re waiting to hear what the results of this will be. In the meantime we’ve shown the DVD to several people, got feedback on it and have added titles and subtitles. Zane is in the process of grading it properly and we hope to be sending off copies to a number of networks and distributors soon.

After work on the promo, Prisca has come on board as our editor. She's great to work with, extremely talented, passionate about editing and willing to work for free. There's nothing more we could possibly ask for!

If we get SIPF or any additional funding we’ll be able to head off to the island again, and perhaps this time take a scientist to explore what exactly is making Takuu and its neighbouring atolls sink so quickly. We’ve been offered an opportunity to tag along with some ham radio enthusiasts. Derek Cox, Hans Hjelmstrom and Stig Nyman are heading out to the atolls as part of a project to broadcast from the farthest reaches of the world and are chartering a yacht to do so. I’m for anything that could mean avoiding the scheduling challenges presented by the Sankamap so it sounds good to me!

In the meantime Briar is working about 4 jobs, I’ve got a giant pile of writing to do for the project and a mass of funding to assess and apply for, none of which seems to be happening, and when he’s not doing our promo, Zane’s off developing a number of additional projects of his own.

That about gets you all caught up. I’ll try and post something again soon. Here's pic of Rose and Briar to keep you going.

Lyn

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Last voyage on the Sankamap

Contemplating the joy of sailing and the sadness of leaving, Zane has written the following. For a final taste of Takuu keep reading to the bottom. The final departure seems to me as tragi-comic as the initial one from New Zealand but, really, much more moving...

Ahhhh the Sankamap... It probably seems strange how much we refer to the ship in the blog and the fact that we do so by name. But once you've been here and seen how important this ship is and how its very character influences the lives of so many, you quickly start to think of it not so much as a thing but as a living breathing being. She was built for the PNG government around 18 years ago (I'll try and check this date the ship looks and probably is older), specifically so that the Atolls could be regularly serviced, and the plan worked well for a while...For a while it was a great little cargo ship that was air-conditioned, had a cook for the cabin passengers and a working shower. It could take about 130 passengers and, I would estimate, about 50 tonnes of cargo.

However from the outset it was doomed. It was originally designed with two cargo holds and two loading cranes, but then in order to save a few million Kina the decision was made to reduce its length by 10 metres. That reduction in length was achieved by simply cutting out one of the cargo holds and cranes. The money saved supposedly disappeared into some dodgy individual's pocket never to be seen again. As a result, the ship can't really carry enough cargo to be economically viable and, what's more, its sea handling has been ruined by the fact it’s so much shorter than it was designed to be and hence it doesn't ride very well. If you look at the photo of it you'll notice how stubby it seems to look due to the missing length in between the bow and the superstructure.



Despite being handicapped at birth, the Sankamap has had a busy and colourful life. She was used to run troops around during the crisis and even played a role in repelling rebels when they attempted to invade Buka Island from Bougainville by crossing the narrow Buka passage. Armed troops lined the side of the ship, which was tied up on the Buka side, and waited silently while the rebels attempted a night crossing. Then when the rebels were mid passage the troops opened fire. I don't know many details of the event but I can imagine it was a bit of a slaughter. The Sankamap got a bullet hole to show for her part in the successful ambush. This story is one of the seemingly endless supply Richard had about the ship.

The Sankamap has been the main lifeline to the Atolls off Bougainville for the last 20 years. At present management of the ship is in the hands of a company from Nukumanu (Tasman Island, one of the Atolls around Takuu). I'm still unsure as to whether the actual ownership of the vessel is in the hands of the company or the government but nevertheless there are a lot of people unhappy about the current set up.

You would assume that with control of the vessel lying in the hands of people from the Atolls the islands would be getting good service. However this is not the case, as the ship now has to put profit first in order to survive whereas before, while profit may have been nice, the first duty of the ship under her government-run management was to provide a service and that service was aimed at looking after the residents of the five outlying atolls. Under the new regime and its need to try and generate profit, the quality of the service to the islands has reduced and servicing and maintenance of the ship has sunk to the bare minimum. Gone are the air-conditioning and any of the creature comforts enjoyed by passengers in years past. The ship has numerous rust holes, many of which are dangerous for the passengers, and others I suspect seriously affect the seaworthiness of the ship.

The Sankamap regularly runs to Buka, Rabaul and Lae but only infrequently to the Islands as it has to try and earn enough in order to be able to afford what is a loss-making trip. As the most isolated of all the Atolls, Takuu suffers the worst from this fact. In the case of the other islands, either the Bougainville mainland or the Solomans are within fairly easy reach, but Takuu, in the middle of the atoll group, has no easily access to off-shore facilities for getting supplies or in case of emergencies.

In case we haven't mentioned it in previous entries, the Sankamap is pigeon for Sunrise and it is literally pronounced “Sun come up”. Despite the positive name, this ship is probably the single biggest problem that the Atolls face. A regular and well run service to the islands would create the ability for the islanders to set up their own businesses. These would help them to fund the ship’s trips to the Island and to fund and import better amenities for the island such as medical and educational supplies. It would also reduce their dependency on hand-outs from the cash starved Bougainville government. It would open the doors for tourists to visit and stay upon the Islands which would be a much welcomed economic boost. At the moment Takuu would by very lucky to get four Sankamap visits a year and has had to go up to seven months without a visit, meaning food and fuel supplies on the island are exhausted and if anyone has gotten seriously sick they are quite simply dead. The ship will not do mercy trips to the island so if you get sick and your family can't raise the 9,000-18,000 Kina (NZ$4,500 – 9,000) needed to pay for a trip you die. No ifs or buts - you die... they do a brief ceremony and put you in the ground before your body goes off in the heat.

So yes - the Sankamap is about as important as a machine can possibly get and yet due to a huge range of factors (many of them political and hence off limits to mention in a public forum) she is dying and while various people try to get an alternative vessel set up; none at this point exists so the ship remains the only lifeline for the Islands in the truest sense of the word 'lifeline'.

With all this knowledge we finally boarded the ship to leave Nukutoa Island in Takuu...

After waiting for so many days for the ship to come we got caught out by the fact that when it did, it actually arrived several hours early. I wrote this on the day that we left Takuu:

Briar is off getting shots of the kids at school which has started yesterday while I am frantically dismantling and packing all our gear deciding as I go what we really need to take and what can be given to the Islanders. I’m frantic because the ship is coming at 1pm and it is now 9am and there is much to do especially as we need to shoot an interview with the school principal at 10am which will take at least 30 mins. Suddenly Richard walks in and tells me the ship is in sight and be ready to go at 11am. He also adds a reminder that it can't anchor so please make sure we're ready in time as it would be most embarrassing if not actually impossible for it to wait for us. This sends me running through the village looking for Briar... No sign of her anywhere..Damn...

Rush back, keep packing, then Briar is there, phew! She's been filming Endar's leaving prep. I tell her the problem then we both pack like mad doing our best to make everything as watertight as possible due to the fact we know we will be boarding a moving ship from a banana boat. Abruptly Sio walks in, are we ready he asks? The boat is here waiting to take us to the ship. Suddenly as we shove the last items in bags, the bags themselves are being grabbed by many different hands and disappearing from the house. I try to do a last check to see what we have missed but it's cursory as I am practically dragged out the back of our house to where the banana boat sits in the water loaded and ready to go. People I know are surrounding me saying goodbye. It is a sea of confusion and emotion as we shake hands hug and kiss everyone. In the background we can hear a child screaming - grief stricken as his grandmother boards our boat to leave. Briar is close to tears as are some of the ladies. Even the usually staunch Sio looks a little weepy. The ship is slowly moving past the island a few hundred metres off shore, her presence adding fuel to the mad inferno of rushed farewells we seem to be caught in.

Avo the Chief is there happily shaking our hands, his gnomelike face smiling in appreciation of our visit. I'm feeling almost dizzy as I try to remember the names and faces before me and say goodbye appropriately. Then we're in the banana boat and heading away from the island and all is silent but for the throb of the outboard and the sobs of the grandmother. Briar and I look at each other kind of shellshocked. Is that it? After nearly two months here, are we really going? The last 10 minutes of machine gun farewells seemed both surreal and deeply moving...Did all that really happen?

The ship looms over us and then we're on board. Our gear is quickly stowed and we're on deck looking back at the islands as the last of the banana boats with the other passengers arrive. Rose is with us and pulls out food prepared for our trip. At first it looks like cooked coconuts but when cracked open they reveal that they are stuffed with rice and Karave; the sweet sap of the coconut tree. All this has been cooked in the shell so that the coconut flesh, the milk, the rice and the Karave have all caramelised into a deliciously sweet treat. We eat this, still warm from cooking, with sticky fingers as the ship finishes loading and swings her nose towards the reef and towards the passage through to the awaiting Pacific.

We’re set for 20 hours to Buka upon a ship that is probably overloaded and on which the liferafts are six years past their service dates, the toilets are places you avoid going at all costs, and every surface is covered in a thin layer of grime and rust, meaning that very quickly we are getting filthy...and yet we are happy

We have a long way to go... but we have started heading home.

A week in Buka lies ahead; a small frontier-like town on the edge of civilsation in a newly formed nation that has arisen from a long and bloody civil war... Should be fun!

Zane out.



It's toilet time...

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Stranger in a strange land

I'm at liberty to say that Briar and Zane are on the plane as I write (unless something utterly unforseen has happened) and I'm expecting to see them in about two hours, cavity searches at customs notwithstanding.

Briar has sent a post descibing the last few hours on the island which she couldn't get through till recently (they've been without the internet for the last two weeks). It's a moving and soulfully insightful piece and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Here is a post that I wrote just before leaving the island:

A wild cyclone is devouring Takuu. It rips through the coconut trees. The lagoon is stirred into a murky grey and its surface is littered with hundreds of tiny white caps. The banana palms are shredded into fine green strips which remind me of thinly cut paper used for decorating the edges of cakes or cocktail straws. Rain falls in bucket loads, hitting the ground in violent splashes. The chickens and roosters squawk and scream with horror but the ducks stand dead still, showering their waxy backs. The wind has a constant drumming sound, like that of a tide moving back and forth, but with a viciously wild and unpredictable edge. It blows directly through our tiny shelter, inside the eastern door and out through the western one. It deafens the sound of my thoughts like an oddly intoxicating blanket of gloom which wraps itself around you and over takes your mood and mobility. Rain and hair are in my eyes and a wet lap lap clings to my blistered legs. Nobody is outside (except for me and the birds). All have crept away. Men are sleeping. Women are huddled around open fires in the cook houses. Children stop their noisy games finding quieter activities inside. Meanwhile a lap lap from a clothes line is hurdled across the street. There is a loud crash as something three yards away has fallen from its place. Could it be the loose corrugated iron which acts as our make shift door, or the roof from our neighbors cook house? Before I have time to find out the whole place shakes from the violent clapping of thunder, followed by bright flashes of sheet lightening.

Do you think the boat will be here today? Hmm I don't think so. Every twelve hours we have a new piece of news. The last few reports have said that the rusty hulk that is the Sankamap is still in Tasman. First with a missing engine, then with the absence of its three anchors all lost along the way. We have learnt not to care or worry about when it will arrive. This is a great opportunity to put into practice what Echart Tollie calls " the power of now" (basically staying in the present moment) and perhaps it would be better to travel on the Sankamap when the sun-really-does-come-up?

I stand soaking wet in the middle of this storm and think back over our trip..

What will I take away and what will I leave behind for the winds to ravage? It is hard to know what you have actually learnt from a place while you are still in it. Usually the most valuable insights occur when you return home. I like the way T.S Elliot puts it in his poem 'Little Gidding':

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time


I was pleasantly surprised when these words turned up at the beginning of the film Run Lola Run. Speaking of quotes, I should add (while standing in the marae drenched through)

"There is nothing so strange in a strange land as the stranger who comes to visit it".

I read this at the beginning of a Denise O'Rouke film and fits appropriately with the way I look now. Something that could fit the description of perturbed drunkard – although this is just me stumbling around as I fight the elements! It also sums up the many ironic moments we have had since our arrival. For example, one day I was standing in the middle of the street holding the satellite phone to my ear (this is a plastic brick with a huge aerial) whilst being interviewed by Radio New Zealand. Around me villagers are hauling giant taro into piles, for an annual customary ritual. The situation just seemed too surreal.

I wonder what it would have been like for missionaries a hundred or so years ago. They wouldn't have had radio reports with news from afar, nor satellite phones or blog posts, only handwritten journals. They wouldn't have known whether their boat ride home had lost its three anchors, let alone become ship wrecked with no surviving passengers! They would have ventured to foreign lands like Takuu, with the expectation that they may never come back, or with rumors that they could be eaten alive (this is eventually what happened to the famous John Williams – an English Missionary from the early 1800s). Our trip is hardly remote by these standards, especially considering we can still use internet and even ring our producer Lyn for help when things get rough. Perhaps one thing I have learn is just how dependent I am on modern inventions. Live in a place with no hospitals, medicine and little news of the out side world and you have a completely different view on life.

The other thing I have been reminded of is the importance of staying positive. For some, this might sound like a 101 self help book lesson, but many times I have needed to focus on this simple wisdom. I was particularly inspired by a man named Ben. He turned up near the end of our stay and I got the opportunity to interview him one day with no prior warning. He is one of those guys who has an extra bounce in his step. He had once lived in Australia but has come back home expressing that he wanted to do his part to help his people. Part of Ben's work involves a business buying and exporting sea cucumber from Takuu. It is the only economy on Takuu (before this there was nothing for quite some time). The selling of the sea cucumber provides a way for families to find funds for their school fees and buy other living essentials and food items. Zane and I have been talking of and scheming up many other options and ideas that could help the community, and it was encouraging to hear the same thoughts being voice by Ben.

I have been asking many of my characters what is their view on change. When I asked Ben he immediately replied with one word: "Positive". He went on to say "we must take the word 'positive' into every situation and in every negative circumstance we must find a positive outcome". So many times during this trip I have tended to look at the glass as if it was only half empty. It is easy to get carried away thinking about how much nicer it would have been if I could have only taken this bit of gear or that lens etc. It is also quite stressful knowing that we have a limited period of time to shoot the film and that it is hard to get back to the island, so as much as possible must be filmed on this trip. Sometimes it has been hard to organize shoots and get the interviews I have wanted. In the hot sun and the dense coral the process has often felt like a long battle up hill (but I must say almost always exciting and enjoyable).

I have learnt that the important thing is to enjoy the journey rather than focus on the destination and to always stay positive (you never know - if I was living in John Williams time – I might have ended up being eaten when I got there so best not to think about it too much)! So I will throw all my negative thoughts to the winds. I will splash in a few more puddles, sing in the rain, and continue looking like a perturbed drunkard.

"There is nothing so strange in a strange land as the stranger who comes to visit it".

- Briar signing out from Takuu..

Monday, February 12, 2007

It's not over til it's over...

Ok everyone, predictably things have got a little delayed in Port Moresby - the plane from Buka was about three hours late in arriving on Saturday, and so that put the kibosh on shoot plans for the afternoon and knocked the schedule out by a day at least. This in turn has put back the return home 'til (I estimate) Wednesday, because it's difficult to get a same day connection from Brisbane and Auckland if you've flown in from Moresby. I know that many of you are really looking forward to their arrival (although possibly not even as much as they are themselves) but you're going to have to hold your proverbial, at least for a couple of days.

Briar and Zane have now got access to the web again, and there'll be some blogs from both on the last days of Takuu and the Sankamap coming up. They're also checking the Takuu gmail address sporadically, so if you're desperate to get in touch you can find them there. Bear in mind that they're still very busy tidying up lose ends and doing final interviews, so they may not be able to respond before they get home.

In the meantime, check out the interview that Briar did on Checkpoint from the island, by clicking the sidebar link, and watch out for archive of interviews on Breakfast, ZB and Nine to Noon which should be available soon. I should have a link to the article that appeared in the Sunday Star Times last week available soon as well.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

The end is in sight....

After a week shooting interviews with expats and politicians in Buka, Briar got some sad news from home. With this in mind we're making an effort to get her and Zane back into New Zealand as soon as possible and are hoping that this will be Monday. This is a little bit earlier than any of us thought, but we've discussed it and we think that it's best, and won't materially affect the film. I'll try and post when I know what time they're getting in, but with current difficulties in communication, even I may not know much before they actually arrive.

Thanks everyone for all your interest in the shooting process, and all of the adventures on Takuu. Things are going to be a little quieter for the next week or so, but with the possibility of going to AIDC (the Australian International Documentary Conference) in Adelaide if we can find $1700.00 for the tickets, and a shoot in Rarotonga with climate experts at the SIDS Expert Meeting on Adaption as part of the Frame Work Convention on Climate Change, there's always more about to happen, including more travel. Please keep reading.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

In case you were worried

We are safe in Buka at the guest house. Richard maybe flying out shortly so may be last contact till we find other means.

No flights BRISBANE TO AUCK TILL AFTER THE 10TH


Dry land

Yay

Z and B

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Takuu transport trials continue unabated

Well it is Monday the 29th and here we are in the Island paradise of Buka. The sun is shining, exotic birds are singing', happy young couples are walking hand in hand through the coconut groves and along the white sand beaches. There is power here so we are enjoying cocktails freshly made at the bar on the beach and the condensation on the frosty glasses sparkles like translucent pearls in the rich tropical sunlight.....

Actually no :-(

We are still on Nukutoa.... a storm has been raging for a few days meaning we are out of solar power and have had to borrow a generator while we wait for the Sankamap to return from Tasman Island where it has been since about last Wednesday or Thursday. First the boat stayed a night at Tasman as it always does and should have left the next day, then there was a party so they stayed another night (most of the crew are from Tasman), then they developed engine trouble and stayed another night then the engine trouble mysteriously went away much like those mysterious headaches one gets after consuming lots of alcoholic beverages. Then it was raining so they couldn't load the cargo. Now finally they're ready go the next day except now the storm is upon them.

Yesterday (Sunday) they tried to load the ship but must’ve failed due to the weather. Overnight they lost all three of the ship’s anchors so now the boat can't keep in position for people to board. Apparently it has to leave the choppy Tasman lagoon and go into the ocean where it will wait for the passengers to come out over the reef in small boats and board the ship in the gentler ocean swells. Going over the reef is no small feat. According to Richard you stand in waist deep water beside your boat on the lagoon side of the reef then when the boat driver feels there is a gap in the breakers everyone clambers in and you head full speed through the waves to the Pacific Ocean beyond.

If this happens successfully today at Tasman the ship will begin the 24 hour trip to Takuu (that's traveling at 6 knots in fair conditions - it will probably be longer with the weather). If the lagoon is calm when it arrives in Takuu, the ship will come through the channel from the ocean and, unable to moor due to lack of anchors, it will steam slowly round the lagoon while we chase it in small fibreglass boats and attempt to board it while still moving....That's plan A.

Plan B (The B is for Ballsy): If the lagoon is choppy we will have to brave the reef as outlined above. Sponsors need have no fear though, because all the gear is insured....right Lyn??? (Ed’s note – yes, of course, absolutely).

Luckily my will is up to date. My sister Renee will do very well in the event of a reef crossing calamity, however I fear my wishes for my ashes may go unfulfilled ;-). I'm afraid Briar's next blog may have to be the bequeathing of her worldly possessions.

Meanwhile on Nukutoa Briar is making use of extra time here to get more of our footage translated (although I think our translator Sio is hiding from her) and we will have the chance tomorrow to film the kids back at school, which reopened today after the holidays. At the moment I'm being slowly asphyxiated as I type beside the smokey generator while keeping one eye on my lunch to make sure Briar's rat doesn't eat it.

After lunch Briar has organised to interview Apava, both the oldest and scariest man in the village; he's kind of a cross between Grandpa Sinpson and Hannibal Lector.

Anyway as this is probably my last blog ever and sometime either tomorrow or the next day my body will be dashed to a bloody pulp against the razor sharp coral lying beneath the monster waves that crash upon Takuu's outer reef (affectionately known as 'The Widowmaker'), I have to say to any rich, attractive girls reading who have unspoken desires for me, this may be your last chance to express your true feelings.... Well I'm not really expecting a huge response there, but it's worth a shot.

That is all for now....And perhaps forever..DUMMM DUMMM DUMMMMM (that's my dramatic music outro)

Zane out.


"The Widowmaker" and the wreck of the last ship that tried what we will attempt.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Testing

We appear to be experiencing technical difficulties adding new blog entries...please bear with us...

Briar and the Rat! And an update on the technical side of things..

Madness sets in on the Island!

Saturday week before last was the day of the big canoe launch. Satty (Sar-tea), one of our characters, has been rebuilding his family's ocean-going Vaka for some months and Saturday was the big day when all the men gathered to help him attach the new outrigger to the hull and then put it in the water for the first time. It was blowing a real gale and neither Briar nor I were feeling top notch after bad sleeps and, I suspect, a little dodgy food. We covered events as well as we could and then headed back to our house to get out of the approaching storm.

It was obvious the rest of the day was a write off for shooting as the rain began, so it was decided just to try and relax. This was all good for me as my feet were in their usual mess of grazes, cuts, bites and some time off them sounded great in terms of getting some healing done so I promptly curled up and went to sleep with the relaxing sound of a tropical rain pouring on our thatch roof.

"GO AWAY!" I'm jerked from a wonderful dream (something about eating ice-cream while having a cool breeze blowing in my face and an ice cold drink to sip....mmmmm ice) to find Briar at our desk quivering. She had been writing her upcoming novel when a rat had decided to check if we had left our usual smorgasboard of leftover breakfast tidbids for him. Briar needless to say wasn't in the right frame of mind for enquiring as to what our rodent friend wished to dine on this fine afternoon.

Once I worked out that Briar wasn't been dragged off for an arranged marriage or some bizarre Takuuan ritualistic ceremony I nodded off back to sleep, only to be woken half an hour later by another shriek of "GO AWAY!" Yanked again from sweet, sweet dreams I didn't bother to enquire as to the issue this time and nodded off only to be awoken again and again for the rest of the day by the growing conflict at the desk between girl and beast. It came to a head when I was awoken by a scream and an almost tearful young doco director telling me how the rat, (obviously realising the subtle foraging technique was going nowhere), had leapt onto the table and pounced right at her.

Outraged at this attempt of rodent assault I immediately took action...

and went back to sleep.

Meanwhile the rest of the village had to wonder what was happening in Zane and Briar's house with her regularly yelling "Go away!" and the terrified screaming. Richard the anthropologist and our next door neighbour enquired casually about it the next day and I explained the whole giant rat versus tiny girl battle that had raged through the day. He seemed relieved and mentioned he thought perhaps we were having a domestic dispute... I dread to think how many others came to this conclusion.

Richard's advice was that when working at the desk Briar should hold a big block of wood in her spare hand and be ready to smash the rat at the first sign of its whiskery snout appearing. It'll be messy but fix the problem he cheerfully explained.


Other news on the Island...All the gear so generously loaned for this trip continues to work faultlessly:


Above you can see Peter Fullerton's purpose made wonderbox at work helping convert the island's sunshine into much needed DC current.



Solar panel city, ours on the left Richard's on the right. The house in the background belongs to Avo the Paramount Chief of the Island.



The HVR-V1 at work filming another exciting event on Nukutoa


Setting up for a shot...Our house is in the background.

The brand spanking new Sony HVR-V1 HDV camera, which I believe is the first Sony HDV camera to offer 25 fps progressive shooting as an option (making it the perfect solution for a 35mm blow-up on a tight budget and for dealing with difficult shooting conditions) continues to crank through the footage. To date we have shot over eighty hours of tape with no complaints from the camera which we've grown to truly love. The design seems really well thought out and the quality of the build is wonderful - everyday the camera is exposed to lashings of coral sand, salt water and wind (but loving cleaned every night David and Shane!) however the snugness with which all its parts fit together makes it seemingly impervious to invasion by these foreign abrasives. The pictures look incredible on the monitors we have here and I can't wait to see them on the big screen in the grading suite at Images.

Working alongside the HVR-V1 in a grand display of intercorperation intergration is the Panasonic DVX-102B DV camera and the CF-29 Toughbook laptop. The DVX supplied by Oxfam is our back up camera for the HVR but is seeing use when we need two cameras as well as acting as a recorder and playback unit for our interpreter to play back footage that needs
translating. The camera continues to make me believe that this is probably the best handheld DV camera ever made and it will be interesting to see how the standard def pictures intercut with the high def ones being caught by the HVR.

Me at work on the Toughbook inside our house.

The Toughbook on which I'm typing this blog entry continues to live up to its name. It soldiers on heroically in conditions where other laptops would just curl up and die in fits of salt encrusted digital agony, and in conditions where every part of your body gushes sweat the idea of a splashproof keyboard is very reassuring! The computer handles all our email requirements once we connect it to our (or rather Richard's) satellite phone and we connect to the web at the screamingly fast rate of 10Kb/s... sorry a hint or sarcasm there I can't really complain as it is rather incredible to think we can send and recieve email from this location especially when you look how little gear is needed to do it! The Toughbook has also been used to do some editing - we made a three minute music vid using footage we have shot and played it back on the village TV for everyone to watch. It's slightly bizarre watching people sitting in the middle of a thatched house street under a starry sky watching a sequence you've cut to the tune of an old beach boys track... Bizarre but nice. The locals seemed to like it...although next time they insist we use local artists for the music! The Toughbook is also acting as a backup for our digital photos and is been used for translation; we captured source tapes in then taught our translator Sio how to use the video software and he sits with the laptop and the freedom of non-linear editing and works his way though the tapes translating sentence by sentence... After all that, if I'm bored I turn on the Toughbooks’s GPS and just check the Island hasn't moved! ;-)

Okay nearly ten pm must go for my shower under the stars and then get to bed...

Z

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Tales from the toilets and other things part 2

From Zane

The question that has befuddled man throughout the ages: "Does a bear shit in the woods?". The answer seems obvious, "Yes" making the question purely rhetorical. However I can reveal from the island of Nukutoa, four degrees off the equator, that here the answer is "No!". Who does then? Well... Zane does! along with the two hundred or so other men on the Island.

What am I on about? Well most people I discussed the trip with seemed quite curious about what the toilet arrangements would be. Basically while the women go in the channel between Nukutoa and the island to the north (all the Islands on the atoll can be walked to as the water is only thigh high at low tide) the men have our own toilet island. If you look at the googleearth shot you will see on the Eastern extremity of the Island a group of trees joined to the Island by a narrow causeway that is submerged at high tide.



Whenever the urge strikes (I enjoy it about 6.30am) I stroll down to the woods on the point (toilet paper discretely in bum bag, no pun intended), find a nice group of trees and a nice view out to sea and then hoist up my lap lap..... sweet sweet relief. My only objection is the highly efficient squatting position makes the joyful experience all too quick. Then overnight the combination of heat, rain, bugs, wind and sun break down whatever is deposited and my favourite spot is generally fresh for more action the next morning.

Ahhh the island life.

Anyway here we are after nearly three weeks on the Island, Briar and I are now officially married in Island terms; it seems all you need to do here is for the guy to spend a few nights in the woman's hut and voila! We are however confusing the locals with our flexible gender roles....I don't think the men were impressed today to see me doing Briar's laundry!

Week one was all about trying to cover the rush of ceremonies and local events while trying to deal with the climate and about a million different things happening to my poor skin... cut feet, sunburn, heat rash, chaffing, prickly heat, mountains of sweat (which makes operating a camera very uncomfortable!) and just to really make me happy some jelly fish stings up my legs and arms...sigh, 'twas expected but still rough. However that all sounds dreary when most of the first week was actually amazing. We were given a veritable palace to call home complete with western style beds (i.e. not on the floor) and a lockable closet for the gear. We are on the western coast of the Island and five big steps from the back door would get you in the water at high tide (11 at low tide). The food has been incredible and plentiful and the couple Sio and Sini who have given up their house for our stay are really lovely and always keep an eye out for us. Every night when we arrive home from shooting a hot dinner is on the table (fried turtle and steamed sweet potato tonight and as usual enough to feed six people) and our kerosene lamp is lit. It gets dark here by six and if we're not home a search party usually goes out!

The effects of the rising sea level here are immediately obvious and quite severe and claims that the Island was a metre above sea level I now see were slightly exaggerated. The Island is about 90cm above high water by my reckoning. I have attached a couple of photos for this blog entry. This first one shows the high tide very close to going into the island's schoolgrounds - the building with the tin roof is one of the classrooms. The land level you can see is pretty much as high as the rest of the Island...With the right winds the water has flowed through here in the past.



These next two photos show the island's west coast in the 1970's and now.





Now the present day shot is at high tide while the archive may not be, so it is not necessarily a fair comparison. I will, however, try and get a shot at low tide soon that will show that, regardless of the water level, the damage by the sea levels is immense. The white sand beach along the coast in the 70's is no longer here - instead the underlying jagged coral is now exposed in its place.

People here put the issue largely to the back of their minds and while they are happy we are here making a film the attitude is generally that they'll deal with the crisis when it reaches crisis point....I find nothing too peculiar about this as I think all societies act this way, especially ours, in that no one really deals with problems no matter how serious until the problem encroaches enough to make ignoring it not an option. For the moment people here can ignore the issue as it's not quite a day-to-day hindrance to them in any way (although a few times a year it becomes an issue). For now they sit and hope that someone with the knowledge and resources will come and guide them through.

Power is running low so I'm going to cut this short for the sake of charging our camera batteries. Next update I'll talk a little about the gear and how it is holding up. I'll end this one by saying a big thank you to Pete Fullerton who helped me wire up the electrics before I left and so far it's been working a treat... more thank-yous to come in future entries.

Mum I'm still alive and will call soon by sat phone.

Happy New Year to all.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Zane gets tricky with technology

Zane writes:

Experimenting here with sending some small photos.

One is of Briar and the ladies next door celebrating their identical
laplaps, the house they're in front of is Richard's pad. These ladies also
play a part in making our food.



The other photo is of two of our favourite people; Manoni and his aunty
Rose. Rose is one of of our main caregivers and a wonderful chef. Manoni is
our shadow about the village and has the habit of singing to himself at high
volume.



The photo was taken at sunset about 10 metres from the backdoor of our
house. We usually go for an unwind swim at this time of day.

More later..