Wanderlust

(This is a column first published in November, 1992. Geoff and Margaret returned and did some work on their boat a few years after this. They again went back to Australia and left the boat at the marina. Some time ago, I can't remember exactly when, they returned again and put the Skookum back in the water. They sailed away and I don't know where they are now.)


I think we all have a little bit of wanderlust in us. It's a desire for adventure and a yearning for travel. It's a feeling of freedom, of going where you want, of living your life the way you want, not the way society expects you to live. Sometimes it takes very little for this wanderlust to surface especially in these stressful times. It was rekindled in me recently when I met Geoff Payne and Margaret Hough.

This young Australian couple sailed into Saint John Marina one sunny day in late October. Before they knew it the 40 foot yacht that had been their home for the last four years as they sailed half way around the world, was out of the water and on land. "This is our home. It's not just a boat." said a laughing Margaret, "This is all we've got. For somebody to lift it out of the water and put it on land is quite frightening really."

Over a cup of soup in the cozy cabin I shared in their adventure. Geoff told me how it started, how he decided to build this boat out of steel using his uncles plans. He built it in Kamloops, British Columbia and called it "Skookum" which means good and strong in west coast Indian language. Then he sent a telegram to Margaret in Australia saying: "Boat launched... exhausted... Geoff."

Together they began a four year sailing odyssey. The Skookum took them all along the BC coast, down to the Galapagos Islands, Easter Island, then around Cape Horn to the Falkland Islands and eventually to Antarctica. They would sail for a few weeks and then go ashore to
explore, meet the people and if possible work. "In the Falkland Islands I turned to drafting, roofing and finishing boats." said Geoff, "Margaret was a bar maid, fence painter, waitress and
agricultural laboratist."

Their lifestyle on board the boat was kept simple. "There's a lot of things you just cut loose when you do a trip like this." said Geoff. "No automobile, entertainment, rent, phones. No tv. All those things are gone. We live a simple life. Keeping the food up is all we need."

Every day is an adventure for Margaret and Geoff. They never know where the wind will take them. They could be out at sea for weeks at a time, isolated from even radio contact with the mainland. If something happened they don't expect anyone to come looking. They have to be self sufficient. They've survived wild seas and successfully maneuvered through an ocean of icebergs in the fog without radar.

t's not the life for everyone. It takes a special kind of person. "The hardest thing is getting up and going." said Geoff, "There was every temptation with a good job earning a good salary to stay on. Buy more, get involved with a house and a mortgage. That's the time you have to make the decision to go."

The wind and the waves brought Geoff and Margaret to our part of the world and here the sea bound portion of their adventure ends for a while. The Skookum is high and dry and will be cared for over the winter by the marina staff while Geoff and Margaret continue the adventure over land. They've picked up an old car and plan to drive back to B.C. where the expedition started four years ago. But they'll be back. After all their home is here. They look forward to
continuing their round the world voyage but not before experiencing the joys of sailing the St. John River.

I finished my soup and looked at the last few pictures of their travels. I had to get back to work, back to the reality of everyday life. But for a few minutes I was sharing in their adventure. It's comforting to know that in this complicated world in which we live it's still possible for two people like Geoff Payne and Margaret Hough to set sail in a small boat and go wherever the wind takes them.

That's wanderlust. That's freedom.

From Welsford to Nepal

(Here's another column from 15 years ago. I can't remember how Steve, Don and Jonathan made out on that climb. I met up with Steve Adamson last winter on an ice climbing adventure. I know the family is still involved with climbing. Enjoy this look back to Onctober, 1992.)

It's a long way from the 600 foot top of Bald Peak in Welsford to the 24,000 foot summit of Mount Pumori, standing next to Everest in Nepal. But right now three generations of a New Brunswick family are making the trip. Steve Adamson of Welsford is leading a climbing expedition to this Himalayan peak. Joining him on the climb are his 6 year old son Jonathan and his father Don. Fifty years may separate them but it doesn't matter for this climbing family. They left for Pumori in mid September.

It's a sunny, early summer day in Welsford. Steve, Don, Jonathan and a group of their friends are picnicking on Bald Peak and rock climbing. They use the cliff on the top of Mount Douglas to practice their climbing technique. Steve's been coming up here for years. Six year old Jonathan has been climbing since he was two and he can scramble up the rock face with little effort. He'll be accompanying his father and grand dad to base camp at 16,000 feet. That means a three week trek through the lowlands of Nepal, 10 to 15 miles a day carrying a pack. Jonathan is looking forward to it.

So is his grampa Don from Rothesay. It's his third mountaineering expedition. "My goal is to get Steve to the top even if I have to push him up there myself." Don says with a laugh. "I'll go
to base camp and see what happens after that. It would be nice to get to the top but I'm not banking on that."

Steve is hoping to reach the summit this time. It's his fourth climb and he's gathered together a team of experienced climbers. On his expedition to 26,000 foot Anapurna, Steve came face to face with the dangers of mountaineering. He was caught between a rock face and a crevice when a rock fall started rumbling down from way up the mountain. "The rock fall lasted about 15 minutes and there were boulders literally the size of houses just bouncing around me and
there was nothing I could do." said Steve. "You just hope your luck holds out. My luck ran out a little bit but it still held in the end."

On that same trip Steve was also caught in an avalanche. You learn a lot from experiences like that. "What it teaches you is things like taxes and constitutional debates are pretty insignificant when you're out in a snow storm just struggling to stay alive and where you can be snuffed out in seconds by an avalanche." Steve said thoughtfully. "It really puts everything in perspective."

Don was along with his son on that Anapurna trip and although they failed to reach the summit they did successfully climb a lesser peak together. It was a high point for both of them. Dons biggest concern about this trek is altitude sickness and the giant leeches they may encounter on their hike to base camp. "The monsoons tend to bring them out." he says, "They drop out of the trees and land on you. If we survive the leeches we've got it made." Steve says he knows a technique to avoid the leeches. "You travel in single file so the person at the end gets most of the leeches and being the expedition leader I'll be at the front of course." Steve says with a
laugh. "And being the oldest I'll be at the back." complains Don. "See how the strategy for this expedition is already forming."

All kidding aside, climbing this mountain is a quest filled with danger and adventure. Steve says he does it simply because it's fun. He can't think of a more enjoyable thing to do. And if he can reach the summit it's a bonus. "When you get to the top of a mountain you didn't conquer the mountain by any means, you were just lucky enough to be allowed to climb to it's top." Steve says, "It and nature are still in charge."

Right now the Adamson's are on the other side of the world making their way up the mountain and facing who knows what kind of conditions. But on that summer day on Bald Peak the sun was shining. There were no avalanches to worry about. Mount Pumori was far, far away. But it's snow packed summit loomed nearby, in the thoughts of three generations of the Adamson family.