Buds, Beaches, Bots, and Everything in Between

Sorry it’s been so long.  January came and, with it, some familiar faces.  Ben and Amanda and not-so-baby Ryson made the ridiculously long hop o’er the Pacific and landed here in sunny Auckland.  I’m not sure if these trips are ever without drama, but they certainly had more than their fair share.  They were bumped from flights a few times and had to make a detour through Sydney, but they eventually arrived and, truth be told, it was fabulous to see them.  Airplanes have made our world smaller and skype allows virtual viewing of loved ones, but to live for a long time in a place where you _never_ really see any of the people who are near and dear is a special kind of loneliness.   And now I have the sense that this kind of loneliness will ever be with me.  To be at ‘home’ in Canada will be to be apart from New Zealand and I know I will long for the friends here and for the special beauty of the oceans and countryside.

The arrival of our good friends officially kicked off a couple of weeks of holiday for us and we had a whirlwind of places to go and things to see.  After a short recovery in Auckland for the Dees family, we headed North to the Bay of Islands and the small town of Okiato.  Ryson wasn’t quite ready for the Kiwi pretzel roads and did his best to fill the back seat of their rental car with the former contents of his stomach.  We eventually arrived, though, and had a nice stay in a couple of rooms attached to a small estate near the water.  The kids were excited that there was also a small pool but we didn’t use it much because the weather wouldn’t cooperate.  (That little spot also has the distinction of being where I first learned the big news…) Things did clear before we left, and we made it out to the wharf to see some of the tall ships that were in the bay that weekend.

From there, we headed back to Auckland and had the fun of spending the better part of an hour in bumper-to-bumper traffic thanks to the Matakana traffic light.  Seriously, who puts a traffic light in the middle of a busy highway?  After a few years of multi-hour queues (ours wasn’t too bad, apparently), wouldn’t you think to put in an under-or-overpass?  The whole situation and the fact that it goes on that way for weeks at the peak of summer every year seems a little crazy to me.

We were correspondingly late getting back to Auckland and decided to dodge into Devonport for some fish and chips by the water.  I also got to see Benjamin Dees, International Pigeon Chaser, in action.  He’s pretty good but I mostly appreciate the role-model effect; watching the kids burn off energy in a totally harmless, clean, non-destructive, and pointless endeavour is somehow warming to a father’s heart.

The next morning, we went to Piha beach…  you may have heard of it.  It’s the most dangerous beach in New Zealand.  So wild and woolly that it has its own TV show and, trust me, it’s no Baywatch (did anyone ever watch that show?  I’ve never seen it but I still feel like it has a significant place in the pop culture of my 20s).  Piha Beach Rescue is a reality TV show about the regular occurrences of drownings and near-drownings at this famous & infamous surf spot.  The waves and the rips are not to be trifled with.  Ben and I set off to climb Lion rock which has set its enormous bulk in the middle of the beach where it towers above the waves and people below.  Unfortunately, the path up ended at about halfway.  It was barricaded and fairly apparent that some portion further up had previously fallen away.  Ben scampered around and went a bit higher while I gamely followed.  And now I have a confession to make: I’m afraid of heights.  I’ve been wondering whether I was, or not, and that time outside the bounds with Ben has confirmed it for me.  It’s not the kind of fear that terrifies or incapacitates me.  And it’s not a fear that comes just from being up high.  Rather, it’s a mortal fear of the danger of height.  I’m fine with heights when there are safety barriers or when I’m harnessed in or even when there’s a handrail or rope to hang onto.  Take away all safety structures, though, and place me a few feet away from a precipice and I am very conscious of the finality that would follow a slip.  And when I say precipice, I mean an edge of terra firma beyond which there is nothing but sky and the only land you can see is far away and far below.  And the interesting thing for me is that it doesn’t seem to be an irrational fear; quite the opposite, my mind calculates it out as being highly rational.  But I can’t deny that I would never have crab-walked down while grabbing roots and branches if the ledge had only been 4 feet off the ground.  And I can guarantee that I wouldn’t fall in that situation, either…  so maybe it’s not quite rational.  But it is likely to keep me a bit safer, I suppose.

After our abbreviated climb, we came back down and joined the girls and the kids playing in the water and the tide pools near the rocks.  We found a great spot where water would rush in to about the height of Everett’s knees.  It would hang around for 30 seconds or so and then the sea would draw it back out with such force that you would sink right into the sand where you were standing.  We found a starfish and I caught a couple of small burrowing crabs and the kids loved it.

That afternoon, we packed up and flew off to Wellington.  In a bid to save money, I had booked a minivan from a very small rental company and had then invested a fair bit of time trying to make sure the van would be at the airport when we arrived.  I hadn’t anticipated Jetstar’s efficiency, though, and we had about a 10 minute wait with our bags before the Aluminum Oven final arrived; a 20 year old Toyota minivan with only one sliding door and lazy air conditioning.  But, it carried all 7 of us and all our gear around for the next 6 days and the price was right, so I don’t think we can really complain (but it did earn the name we gave it).

Anyhow, we had a couple of nights in Wellington in a fabulous two-level apartment above the shops of a cool little market community (kind of like Westboro in Ottawa).  We spent a morning at the National Museum trading off time with the kids so that we could actually read and absorb a bit of the content.  After that, we went for a walk along the waterfront and we found a staircase to nowhere (almost as exciting as an escalator to nowhere).   It went back and forth and up a couple of flights before stopping in mid-air.  Below it was nothing except for a large hole in the deck we were walking on.  And, at the bottom of that, was the ocean.  Ben was all for it and I told him he was crazy.  I wasn’t dressed for it at all and I would only be a big, soaking, sopping mess afterward.   It did look like fun, though, and my arm is pretty rubbery when it comes to jumping into water on a warm day.  So, I emptied my pockets and walked straight up the stairs and off the end (didn’t want to lose my momentum or have to think about it too much)…  The water was fabulous (at least temperature-wise; best not to think about how dirty it was) and the kids haven’t stopped talking about crazy Daddy and Uncle Ben for the last several months.

Leaving Wellington, we drove the Aluminum Oven onto the ferry and set sail for the South Island.  It was a beautiful day and we had fabulous views as the ferry came up Queen Charlotte Sound into Picton.  We then headed West toward Nelson and took the scenic route along the coast.  Once again, New Zealand has done a fabulous job of winding a ribbon of road along the most indirect terrain you can imagine.  How many hairpin turns can you pack into a kilometre of road?  I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if NZ holds the record.  The views were amazing, though, and the three of us most prone to carsickness (Ben, Ryson, and me) all managed to keep our lunches down.  So, hooray!  The one great regret of the day was that we never stopped to take pictures.  We had thought we would come back the same way but then discovered that we could take all straight roads back and still arrive at the same time (but cover twice the distance)…  so we let happy tummies trump photos.

The end point of this trip was Riwaka and we arrived there to a nice big house with a trampoline in the front yard and a chicken run against the fence.  The next day, we set out for an Abel Tasman adventure.  We took a water taxi along the coast and saw split-apple rock before spending some time seal-spotting. 

Eventually, we arrived at the start of our planned 3 hour walk that would take us through beautiful forest, along stunning coastline, and over a long rope bridge before arriving at a beach where we would be picked up by another water taxi.  Such a hike is a bit daunting with kids in tow, but they did really well.   Annalise walked pretty well a whole 5ish kilometres by herself, but needed Mommy and Uncle Ben to carry her for most of the remaining 2.  Everett rode on my back and was reasonably content for most of it.  The sights, companionship, and conversation were pretty great and it was a really good day.

The next day we were hit by rain and spent most of it inside wishing it would go away…  Before the kids drove us crazy, though, we hatched a plan to get in the car and drive along the coast back in the Nelson direction.  I had read about the Rabbit island ferry and figured it might be the thing to do in the rain.  When we arrived at the Ferry spot, though, it was shut down due to weather.  Nonetheless, there were still a couple of shops open and we browsed for a bit before, wonders of wonders, the skies cleared.  We went down to the water and spent the next hour or so throwing rocks.  Everett was in his glory.  We decided to have supper there and watched many people jump off the pier into the rising tide.  My rubber arm once again provided weak resistance to Ben’s enthusiasm and we again took to the water while I wondered why on Earth I didn’t just wear a swimsuit all the time.  Again, the water was great and it was a blast jumping off into the swiftly moving tidal flow.

All too soon, our travels drew to a close and we made our way back first to Wellington and then to Auckland (the big news didn’t have much impact on our travels, thankfully).  I’m sorry to say that we were highly unsocial on the last night Ben, Amanda, and Ryson were in Auckland.  We left them busily packing to go and see ‘The Hobbit’ in 3D.  I had read nothing and seen nothing about it going in (that is to say that I had seen and read nothing about the movie; I read the book many years ago and remember thinking that I liked it better than the Lord of the Rings as far as reading entertainment goes)…  And so I presumed that the movie was the beginning and the end of the Hobbit’s tale (after all, it’s a fairly small book).  So, you can imagine my consternation as we were still nowhere near the dragon after 2 hours of movie.  And then even greater consternation when the movie stopped mid-story… I honestly had no idea!  Crazy!  But I suppose they have to milk it for all it’s worth.  I didn’t mind it too much, but I don’t think Sheri’s a fan and I do have to say that they overstretch plausibility a bit too much for my liking.  Ah well, I’m very glad that I got to see NZ’s biggest recent movie in its home environment.

And so we finally said goodbye to dear friends after having a fabulous time together in one of the world’s most fabulous spots.  We parted with plans for a Corkery campfire in July but I now know, with regret, that won’t happen.  Ben has taken a job in Calgary and they will all leave Ottawa long before we return.  ‘Tis sad, but c’est la vie, non?

Rested and replenished with sun and fun, I was all set to return to my lab.  Things were starting to heat up as my new airframe (100% designed by me) was almost ready.  Plus, the control circuit board was back from the manufacturer and was being assembled by Jian (who designs my circuit boards and provides technical assistance on anything I need).  I think I said last time that I was hoping to be flying by the end of January.  That was definitely ambitious.  I didn’t even have all the parts assembled by then.  And when I finally did have everything together, the fun of testing a new circuit board running an unfamiliar operating system (Angstrom Linux – taken from the OpenEmbedded Linux stream and somewhat tailored to run on our gumstix processor) began.  For anyone who has never done it, I’m sure that lab debugging of a new system must seem like it takes far longer than it should.  I mean, I just had to test all of the usb ports and peripherals, make sure all of the uart’s were working, test the adc channels (including the ones on the connected i2c interface device), develop a spi protocol to communicate with the pressure sensor, figure out how to properly thread the motor controller serial communication, test the primary position and orientation sensor, calibrate the motor controllers, setup the wifi and Bluetooth networking, test the gps antenna, …  how long could it possibly take?  Well, quite a while…  and once I had done all of that, I was ready to start working on the flight software and begin the tuning of the system parameters.  I am happy to say, though, that I was only a month off.  By the end of February, Jumbo QBot (he weighs in at about 5 pounds and spans about 3 feet from rotor tip to rotor tip) had left the ground.

 

March was then the marathon effort to move toward autonomous flight.  I desperately wanted to let go of the controls and let my ‘robot’ fly on its own.  After all, I didn’t come here just to develop a remote control helicopter (although, with humility, that is much more of a feat than I previously realized).  And so, my stretch goal has always been autonomous flight; at least automatic position hold (latitude, longitude, altitude) but hopefully full autonomous takeoff and landing as well.  I was beset by issues.   For example,

·         The first time I tried to fly it outside (which I need to do for gps lock), it flipped over instantly; that’s something it’s never done indoor.  Having fixed that problem, I could hardly hold its position and the wind nearly blew it into a building.  I had to land it hard and bent all of its landing gear.

·         I did extensive gps testing and kept getting random position jumps that would make the robot a bit squirrely.

·         I tried logging data directly to the flash disk and experienced a huge lag hit that flipped my bot and destroyed my first propeller.

·         The next week, my wireless communication link froze and my program responded by flipping over and running the propellers hard into the wooden decking; one was still going full speed when I got to it and pulled the battery.  That was 4 more propellers down.

My poor wife has had to live with me through the ups and downs (“I want it all! The terrifying lows! The dizzying highs! The creamy middles!”), from dejection to elation (sometimes within a few hours of one another).  Finally, I got altitude hold working indoor (it uses air pressure and doesn’t need gps lock).  That was a big step forward.  Last week, I was finally ready to do more outdoor testing.  So, Jian, Loulin (my thesis advisor), and I booked a University car and headed out together.

My Jumbo QBot was brilliant.  He took to the air and was holding steady right off the bat.  There was a breeze, but I bravely engaged latitude lock…. And he held!  He was fighting the breeze all on his own… it was working so well… and then he crashed and burned.  Literally, unfortunately.  One of the motor controllers actually caught fire!  That was really crummy! (!!!)  So, five minutes after arrival, we packed up.  I spent the noon hour madly building up and calibrating a new motor control.  I got it installed and did a quick flight test; it all looked good.  So, we piled back into our car and headed back to the field.  The first flight lasted 30 seconds and I lost connection with one of the motors.  I should have stopped there, but I rebooted and got it working again.  The next flight lasted 20 seconds and my robot crashed and destroyed another propeller… this time we found a problem in the motor controller cable; one of the connector pins was loose.  With that fixed and a new propeller installed, I was ready to fly again (having now used my last clockwise prop).

Last Saturday, April 6, 2013, we took Jumbo QBot to the park.  Sheri started out on camera as I tested altitude, latitude, and longitude independently.  Rowan and Sarah joined us and Rowan picked up the camera.  I flew it up and engaged full position hold… And it worked!  Hooray!!  But Rowan didn’t catch me letting go of the controller.  So, we had to try it again.  And it worked again!!!!  (I’m not using exclamation marks spuriously.  It’s pretty exciting!)  Then we goofed around a bit and flew it up to 17 meters and then threw an iPhone into it to get some inflight video.

That was really fabulous, but I now wanted to make it fly even better and to see if I could get it to take off and land on its own.  More problems ensued, but finally yesterday (which was Wednesday, April 10^th as I type this), Jian and I got out to the park and we tested and flew, tested and flew.  Jumbo QBot went up to about 25 meters at one point.  And the pinnacle of the day was that he took off on his own, flew up to 8 meters, hovered, and then slowly descended before bouncing on the ground a few time and finally landing!  Ultimate success!  …. And now I want him to fly just a little bit better and farther…  it’s so hard to stop now that it’s so exciting!

But, my time is up.  I have 6 weeks in which to write a 30000 word thesis.  That’s a tall order… this blog post is just getting squeezed in before I switch to technical writing mode.  So, the next time you hear from me, it’ll all be done…  for better or for worse.

When I haven’t been in the lab or the field, we have continued to travel around.  The summer here was absolutely incredible.  I have had several Kiwis tell me that this was the best summer of the last 20+ years.  Beautifully warm and dry, it was a tourist’s dream; unfortunately, the tourist’s dream is the farmer’s nightmare and drought conditions were officially declared and farmer bailouts announced by the government.  For us, though, we couldn’t have asked for better and we filled our weekends with hikes, waterfalls, caves and beaches.  One of my favourite beaches for just swimming and playing with the kids was Long Bay on the north side of Auckland.  A lot of Auckland’s beaches are full of crushed shells and floating crud (at least near the shore), but this one is perfect smooth white sand washed by clear water that doesn’t get deep too quickly (or too slowly) and that had fun whitecaps rolling in.  Poor Everett loved it to bits, but his small body mass cools quickly (fun whitecaps come with wind) and he started turning blue and shaking like a leaf.  For those who don’t know little E, he has a bit of a volatile personality; he desperately wanted to be in the water, but hated that he was cold… and the result was a shivering, screaming little boy that simply could’t have his cake and eat it, too.  And our attempts at explanation somehow failed to assuage his frustration.  Mercifully, Long Bay has a nice big playground and we retired there for food and cosier play.

We did eventually find the ideal solution for Everett: a hot water beach!  As the name suggests, this is a beach where you can find hot water and it’s the perfect thing for little ones that get chilled before they’ve had enough.  The one we went to is on the east side of the North Island partway up the Coromandel Peninsula.  We managed to append ourselves for a couple of nights to Rowan and Sarah’s vacation trip to Pauanui.  That’s a neat little community with a significant population of truly wealthy people; it boasts an airstrip surrounded by houses where the owners park their planes right outside the door.  And there were lots of cool planes parked around; notable were a biplane and several WWII-style warbirds.  One morning, we went for a walk past the airstrip and saw some aircraft lining up to take off.  3 of the warbirds roared down the runway in formation and left the ground directly opposite us at a distance of only about 50 feet away.  Pretty cool!  But I digress…  we trucked off to the famous hot water beach on a sunny Saturday and found it absolutely overrun with a mass of people.  We entered the fray and I ran around for a while digging holes and trying to find some hot water.  Eventually we clued in that all of the hot water was where the people were jammed closest together; no room for us.  But, the moon was on our side and was busy pulling the water back, so I eventually picked a spot right in front of someone else at the edge of the water and started digging and building walls.  There I stood, shovelling madly, locked in battle against the sea.  It lashed out and knocked down my walls a couple of times, but the moon continued on my side and I eventually stood a foot deep in a nice little pool of toasty water.  Rowan tagged in and finished the battle and we found ourselves with a good little tub, big enough for us and the kids.  And they absolutely loved it.  How fun to sit in the water and play in the sand and remain nice and warm for as long as you like?!  Pretty fabulous.

On another weekend, we decided to check out Whatipu.  We had determined to go for a walk and I did some quick searching that said this was a place almost entirely disconnected from civilization but still only a 45 minute drive from Auckland.  It boasted sea caves and a variety of different walks.  Sadly, I didn’t take much note of the walk descriptions as I presumed that local signage would be sufficient to direct us.  You’d think that after the better part of a year in New Zealand, I would know better.  Even the drive to get there suggested that this spot wasn’t at the top of any public works agenda; once again I was glad that Buster has all-wheel drive.  We got there, though, and I thought I had some understanding of what the signs said, but I had in mind that it was an easy 45 minute walk to the ruins of the pier from which they had once sent timber harvested from the coastal forest.  It wasn’t long, though, before what was obviously the main trail turned upward.  20 minutes later, there was no denying that this was anything but ‘easy’.  I reckoned (Kiwis (and Aussies, it seems) prefer ‘reckon’ to ‘think’ or ‘figure’ for most situations) that we were nearing the end of the uphill since a pier must be at sea level and we were now pretty high (great views, though).  And still the uphill continued.  20 minutes later, we continued to ascend and I was getting frustrated, Everett was getting mad (okay, I maybe was a bit, too), and Annalise and Sheri were getting sore feet from their slip-on shoes.   Sheri and the kids took a break while I jogged ahead to assess the situation.  5 minutes further up, the trail finally levelled out.  So, I retrieved the rest of the family and we carried on.  Our effort was finally rewarded (an hour or so in), but not with a pier; rather, with a cliff looking over an open valley and the sea below.  And we were high!  (Google maps suggests around 240m.)  Pretty stunning, but not what we had intended.  At least the return trip was much less gruelling.

Back at sea level, we took the 10 minute track over to the sea caves and those were pretty fun as well.  All in all, it was a great day, but we would have been much happier if we had known what we were in for at the outset.  As it was, Sheri’s poor feet suffered the worst and she rubbed one toe raw, then managed to grind a bunch of fine dirt into it.  By the next day, it was clearly infected and she set off to a clinic once the kids were abed for the night.  A week of antibiotics was a bit of a nightmare (enter the big news) for Sheri as the ones prescribed had significant eating restrictions.  And showering without getting your foot wet also seems to be a bit of a trick.  She persevered, though, and her foot cleared up fairly quickly.

The main adventure for us at Easter was finding a ham.  We invited several people over and wanted to do things a bit more Canadian-traditional, but ham is not a common Easter food over here (lamb is the thing).  I eventually had to settle for a fully cooked one that we heated up and glazed (with Maple syrup, of course) for supper.  It was actually quite yummy and we had a houseful to share it; what more could be asked for?

Easter Monday we set our sights on Karangahake Gorge.  Our new American friends, Andy and Catherine (here for at least 5 years with the Navigators) let us ride with them as we followed old (well, I suppose, less-new) Kiwi friends, Scott and Sarah, to the gorge.  At one point, a moderately successful gold mining company had operated in that area and the natural beauty of the river and the cliffs is mixed with the legacy of human industry; mining shafts cut through the rock (and are now home to glow worms), paths are carved along the rock walls cradling the river, and foundational ruins are all that remain of buildings that once covered the hillsides.  I’ve never been anywhere that let you walk as far into abandoned mining shafts as we managed at Karangahake; pretty neat for me but a bit scary for the kids.  After lunch, we followed the path of the former rail line through a 1 km tunnel.  That’s a long way for a walking tunnel!  Made more so for me as I was carrying Everett and he fell asleep halfway through…  You try walking for half a kilometre in the near dark with a 28 pound sack of potatoes hanging around your neck and you’ll have some idea of what the experience was like.  And on top of that, I’ve watched too many Roadrunner shows and I kept having the sensation that a train was about to come barrelling toward me even though that was clearly impossible.  Arriving back at our cars, we made our way into Waihi to reward ourselves with some artisan ice cream at the restaurant of Sarah’s Uncle.  All in all, it was another great day of amazing views (I’ve inherited some of my father’s wit, so I would say they were gorge-ous!), good friendships, exercise and conversation.

Last weekend, we made a trip on our own down to Hamilton for the ‘Balloons over Waikato’ festival.   We went specifically for the grand ‘Night Glow’ finale that boasted lit up Hot Air balloons and fireworks.  There was a small air show with a group of acrobatic airplanes performing stunts with smoke trails in the sky.  There was also a small midway and Everett had his first amusement park rides.  He was a fan of riding in the car on the merry-go-round but really did _not_ like the spinning tea cup even though Mommy was right beside him.  Once the rides were over, we grabbed some mini donuts (mini donuts! Mmm…) and set up our picnic blanket in good view of the balloons as darkness, ever so slowly, fell (note: tired, over-stimulated kids (/Daddies) hopped up on sugary donuts would generally prefer quicker sunsets).  At last, amidst blasts of fire from huge burners ringing the balloon area, we reached the countdown!  10…9… …etc… 1… 0!!!!  And… nothing.  The balloons sat there.  They were all inflated, which was cool, and they would blast their burners to keep themselves upright… but they never left the ground.  I assumed there was some issue that they were sorting out but after 15 minutes, we did another countdown and then they all deflated.  Apparently it’s too dangerous to take off at night in the middle of a crowd, so they don’t.  The night glow is just about glowing… not flying.  I didn’t know that, but now I do.  Still kinda neat, I suppose, but I wanted to see liftoff.  To curb the disappointment, though, the fireworks started.  Neither Annalise nor Everett had ever seen fireworks live before.  Big Sister loved it!  Little Brother was terrified and wrapped himself around Mommy with all the strength he could muster.  You’d never know it the next morning, though, because he couldn’t stop talking about seeing the hot air balloons and the fireworks.  Like so many things in life, what’s scary one moment becomes an exciting tale ever after…

And that pretty well catches us up (and all in (almost) less than 5000 words!).  You’ve probably guessed the big news by now.   Four heartbeats left Canada in April 2012, 5 will come back in June 2013.  Sheri is pregnant (!) and due early September (because September in our families doesn’t have enough significant dates already).  Our personal raise-a-Reader campaign will take it up another notch.

The days are now going by far too quickly and our happiness to be returning home is mixed with a longing for more time with our good friends here.  I know this for certain: we will miss New Zealand sorely.  But it will be good to be home.

p.s. For those curious about our travel plans, the broad strokes are as follows: We will leave Auckland at the end of May.  We will travel South for a couple of weeks, hopefully getting as far as Dunedin before springing back to depart Christchurch on June 14.  We then land in Edmonton and will spend a week in Alberta before heading East to the great province of Manitoba.  After a few weeks of annoying my family around there, we’ll fly back to Ottawa and expect to be back on Corkery before the middle of July.

Oh the Places that have Yule without Snow!

How quickly our lives fill up.  I’m trying to think of why I’m not a more active blogger and the best answer I can give is that life a world away has quickly taken on the semblance of the life we left.  Not in every respect (and arguably not in the most important ones), but certainly in this one: we have more than enough to do.  We have been blessed with great friends and a desire to see more of them.  Our kids have places to be and things to do.  We have doctor’s appointments, church activities, buses to catch, a house to clean, groceries to buy… all of the usual.  We also have a beautiful country to explore and now warm weather to make the most of.  And with a small home filled to overflowing with a 4 year old and an almost-2 year old (who tend to prefer the 2 cubic meters of space around Mommy anyway), we have every encouragement to get out and about.  But I shouldn’t make it sound like we’re always running; we do get a couple hours of quiet most evenings.  Sheri is good at making the most of it to stay in touch with people, plan meals, and even lately is trying her hand at sewing.  If I’m honest, I could be using that time for blogging (or otherwise keeping in touch with all the friends that are often on my mind and that never know it), but I don’t.  And why not?  Because I’m selfish and so easily and frequently tired.  And the big difference between now and when we first came to NZ is that I have collected the means to entertain myself.  We have a TV, computers, books, and all the usual trappings of modern first-world life.  I still believe, as I said before, that no one would really want a steady log of my stream of consciousness, but this time I confess that I have had much to write about and simply haven’t taken the time.  For that, I beg forgiveness.

 

So, what’s been going on?  I’ll start with my research.  When last I wrote, Qbot2 had been shelved in favour of advancing progress on Qbot3 (being studied by one of the undergrads).  Final project demonstrations for the undergrads were only a few weeks away and I was content with my progress and keen to give them every advantage.  A fourth year mechanical engineering student had designed his own airframe and he had it made by the University’s 3D printing lab.  He assembled the mechanicals and I then installed the motors and circuitry.  In a short while, I was able to get that new quadrotor operational (his design was spider-like and he painted webs on the legs, so I dubbed it Araqnobot). It wasn’t long before I had it free-flying around the room.  In my hubris, I tried attaching my cell phone to it with rubber bands so that I could generate some inflight video but I then crashed it and broke one of the motor mounts.  Thankfully we had a spare and it was only out of commission for a couple of days.  I worked for a while to get automatic altitude control working, but the sensors we have for indoor operation are simply too unreliable.  Imagine driving a car with an electronic windshield that randomly displays obstacles ahead as either being really far or really near and only hits the accurate distance 50% of the time…  It’s a little hard to work an autonomous control system around that.  In any case, our ultimate goal is not indoor navigation and we’ve intentionally spent little effort there so far.  My next airframe (which will be my third) will have GPS and a pressure based altimeter and it will be the primary platform for autonomous development.  In the meantime, I’ve been showing off my current bot; it seems that most engineering visitors are brought around for a demonstration.  Last week, we also performed our first outdoor flight.  It was a gusty day and we had some difficultly, but we eventually managed a short hop.

 

When the Christmas holidays are over, we will hopefully have everything in place for the next major effort.  I designed a new airframe to hold the bigger motors that we have acquired.  It will also house our new circuit board that features an ARM CPU operating at 700MHz and running a bare-bones embedded linux operating system.  Our new batteries are monsters, weighing in at over 600 grams (1 and a third pounds) and boasting 11000 mAh at 11.1+ V (that’s a lot).  The primary orientation sensor costs over $2000 USD and has integrated GPS and an ARM processor all its own.  The fully assembled machine will be a fairly big beast, measuring roughly a meter across and weighing about 4 pounds with the battery on.  Hopefully it works.  The Uni mechanical shop is working on the airframe (aluminium … slightly fancier than aluminum) while the electronics technicians are having the circuit boards manufactured.  My goal is to have everything assembled and flying by the end of January.  As time is now counting down, the days will begin to matter more and more.

But we do continue to make the most of our days when I am free from my studies.  I can now officially say that I have been snowboarding south of the equator.  We have made friends with some other Canadians doing the temporary Kiwi thing (Will & Danielle and their two daughters Naomi and Eva) and Will offered to keep me company on a trek to Mt. Ruapehu.  Sheri and Danielle came along as far as Taupo and we booked a private house (known as a ‘bach’ to New Zealanders) there.  A friend from church lent me his gear (fancy board with near-new flow bindings; they’re okay, but I still like my old fashioned ratchet system) and I was all set.  It was a beautiful spring day and while others were getting lobsterized, I was lathering on the sunscreen.  The snow was icy at the top and slushy granular at the bottom; the runs were half-heartedly groomed and down to rock in some places.  So, it wouldn’t be my first pick for quality, either of the snow or the runs.  For the experience of snowboarding on a Volcano and following canyons of snow between jagged Mordor-like black rocks, though, it can’t be beat.  Riding the snow while looking out at a countryside of rolling green as far as the eye can see is also pretty cool.  Plus, it had a fun and exciting system of not really protecting you from cliffs… they just post a few signs along the top edge that show a stick figure upside down over some rocks.  Conveys the gist pretty well, but I’d generally prefer some ropes or something to give the poor sap who has temporarily lost control a bit of a chance.  Maybe that’s just me.

Another weekend, we spent our Saturday driving out to the Coromandel peninsula with Will and Danielle.  We visited Cathedral Cove and let our kids and theirs run on the beach and through the cave/arch (sadly, we never turned up in Narnia).  We then headed over to the famed hot water beach, intent on digging our own hot tub.  Unfortunately, it was getting dark and it was cold and windy, so we decided to call it off.  The adults all agreed that it would have been fun, adventurous, and romantic sans kids, but with them it would have been unhappy, frustrating, and mostly crazy.  We agreed to run away in the hopes of fighting again another day, but the weather never did cooperate on the few times that our schedules coincided again.

Our next noteworthy outing took us to Puhoi with the Hilsdens (our pastor & his family).  Our ultimate destination was Wenderholm park and we had a barbecue picnic there while our kids and theirs explored and went on “safaris” through the bush.  Having invested in a charcoal “chimney” I was able to light our coals and Rowan and I worked together to get the meat all cooked.  It all worked well and we had a great time together.

With Will and Danielle, we had formulated a plot for reciprocal child care that would enable us both to complete the Tongariro crossing.  They would take our kids for a day and then we would switch.  We decided to go for an extra long weekend (<Marge> Homer, your boss called and said that if you’re not at work on Friday, don’t bother coming in on Monday!  … <Homer> Woohoo!  Four day weekend!) so that we would have a day to drive there and then at least one day to accommodate inclement weather.  When the time finally came, though, there was only one decent-weather day and the next best was the day we had allotted for driving there.  After some quick negotiation and decision making, the plan switched to an aggressive drive-and-hike-all-in-one-day affair that would take advantage of that pretty-good day.  Being good Canadians, we were all very polite and did our best to make sure the other couple could seize the better day if they truly preferred it.  In the end, though, it was a politeness stalemate and a coin toss decided that Sheri and I would scamper over the pass on day 1.  With a plan to be up and on the road without delay, I naturally slept very poorly and I figure I had about 5 hours of sleep all in as we climbed into the car that Friday morning.  We drove for 4 and a half hours, snarfed down some lunch in the parking lot, and were boldly hiking down the trail at about 1:15 pm.  The sky was a bit overcast, but it was otherwise warm and bright and we set off with high hopes and the sort of light-hearted contentment known only to the parents of young children who find themselves temporarily without them (and that feeling is amplified, of course, after a long drive in a car with said children) (<she> Listen, Honey!  Do you hear that?  Isn’t it wonderful?  …  <he> Hear what? … <she> Exactly!).

The first couple of kilometres ticked by and I was busy doing the math in my head: let’s see, 2 kilometers in 30 minutes, we have 20 kilometers to go (19.4 actually, but we might slow down a bit in the steep parts, so I’ll approximate that with the extra 0.6 to keep the math easy), so that’s 300 minutes which equals 5 hours.  No problem, we’ll be done this on time easy peasy!  And the math held up for a couple more kilometres, so I figured it was all good.  …  Then we came to the stairs.  I gather the stairs weren’t always there, but for us, there were stairs… and then there were more stairs… and after you climbed those, what would you like to chase them down? … how about some more stairs?  …  And maybe you’d like some stairs to go with your stairs… you can have them in pairs!  And it may surprise you to learn that it takes a lot longer to cover a few kilometres worth of stairs than it takes you to walk along a few kilometres of level boardwalk.  No, no, don’t argue with me…  It’s true!  (Especially when the stairs somehow magically go backward for a bit as I’m convinced these ones did.)  In any case, we eventually came to end of the interminable supply of steps only to see that the ascent continued in the distance.  The next uphill section was loose gravel and I found myself wishing for more of the much maligned stairs.  But, ever onward and upward we continued and my mind began forming a new definition of kilometre that was several times longer than I had previously ever thought.

As we climbed, of course we appreciated the views.  They are amazing… But the effort involved left them somehow wanting.  For a while, that is.  There is a point in the Tongariro crossing where you come into view of The Red Crater and suddenly, you know why this hike is one of the most popular in the world.  And why is that, you may ask?  I’d like to tell you, but I don’t think I can.  I’d like to show you, but a picture won’t really do it justice.  There are some things on Earth that simply must be experienced to be appreciated (and this is true not just of things you see but also of things you believe; ‘For I know whom I have believed’… ).  So, what’s so great about the Red Crater?  Is it sparkly and iridescent?  No; it’s red.  Is it in the shape of a famous president?  No, it’s just a crater.  But it is somehow surprising and otherworldly.  A sculpture done by an artist whose medium is mountain and a painting done by one who doesn’t merely employ colour but rather defines it.  …  It actually made me think of my Dad and I wished he could have seen what I was seeing; he was such a great world adventurer, but he did it through books (he was a Reader, after all).  He read about safaris and jungles and deserts and mountains, but his life was a humble one.  And then I realized how silly I was; because I know whom I have believed, and because Dad did, too, I know that the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ was consummated for Dad the moment he breathed his last.  What is there on this Earth that could ever compare to that first moment in Glory?  It cannot be conceived.  But the Red Crater still points us to our awesome creator and my heart thrilled to see and wonder at it.

And finally, we reached the point of descent.  It begins as you come around a peak and look down onto two of bluest little lakes (ponds?) you’ve ever seen.  It also begins with a reprieve from the alpine wind that had been lashing us and reminding us why we brought those extra layers.  We had been debating for a while where we would stop to eat but had continued to push on in the hope of finding somewhere relatively warm and calm.  And so it was that we took off our packs, set down our gear, and gave thanks for our food next to a beautiful azure alpine lake at the top of the bottom of the world.  It was heavenly…

But we still had a ways to go and my math had increasingly lost integrity.  We were shy of halfway and almost 4 hours in.  It was now after 5 o’ the clock and we could only expect sunlight until about 8 pm.  So, we set forth again and now there was snow in the path.  You’d never know we were Canadians from the way that I wandered into the white for a picture with the stuff.  As they say, though, absence makes the heart grow fonder and I think snow may be a part of me.  Through the snow we trekked and then up another slope.  It wasn’t long before we came to signs indicating that a nearby vent had erupted in August and that hikers were encouraged to walk briskly and minimize stopping through the danger area.    We weren’t likely to dawdle too much anyway, but I had trouble understanding the encouragement.  I guess so long as you look at life as a random series of events dictated by probabilities, it kind of makes sense…  Certainly an eruption was no more likely to occur whether we went quick or slow.  In an actuarial light, I suppose that the probability of us being harmed in a volcanic eruption was increased dramatically during the time we were in that area, but I would imagine that the overall odds remained incredibly low and half as long or twice as long would make only a drop of difference in the bucket of the danger we encounter in our lives.  It’s a bit like saying we should minimize our time in airplanes (make them all go faster!) because, sooner or later, one is going to crash.

Having said that, allow me to rabbit-hole for a moment and mention a related statistical annoyance/observation I have.  We were at the Auckland aquarium (Kelly Tarlton’s) the other day and they had up this note on how wonderfully good and friendly sharks are: apparently, you are as likely to be struck by lightning twice as you are to be attacked by a shark.  Alright, that sounds good.  But, how many people on this earth live with either no access, no ability, or no inclination to swim in shark-inhabited waters?  I’m going to go out on a limb with the supposition that it is the absolute vast majority.  Now, compare that to the number of people that live under an expanse of sky capable of producing lightning…  Doesn’t it seem an odd comparison to you?  Now, if they said that you’re no more likely to be attacked when swimming in shark-infested waters than you are to be struck by lightning while holding a metal rod out in the middle of a field during a thunderstorm, I might think they were being a bit more fair…  but it wouldn’t really help their message, would it?

In any case, the unpredictable random event never occurred and our quickness was, I suppose, rewarded because it did erupt a week and a half later.  We had crossed over and through and now the path out stretched before us.  Standing at the top of the far side of the crossing, I admired the many paths down the mountain.  We could see trails on the left, trails on the right, and trail segments snaking over the rocks straight ahead of us.  I wondered where they all led and over the next few hours, I discovered that they were all connected and formed the single trail down to the car park.  I’m sure they had good reasons for making the most meandering trail since Mobius had devised the infinite, but it was lost on me.  We knew that they had mastered the art of building steps into a mountainside.  Why didn’t they simply make a set of steps leading us out?  We could have covered in 15 minutes what took us over an hour.  Nevertheless, we kept trucking and we were just running out of light when Will met us on the trail at 8:30.  Five minutes later we were in the car headed to our bach; the trek had taken us 7 hours and 15 minutes (give or take a few).  Our legs were tired and our feet sore and dirty, but we had done it and felt very blessed to have had the opportunity.  (You’d think we would have slept like babies that night, but we have babies of our own and Everett was up for a good chunk of the night; Sheri only managed a few hours of sleep; we were both pretty wrecked for the next day.)

Will and Danielle took up the torch for Saturday and made the trek in better conditions (normal time of day, clearer skies, and a bit warmer) but those things added to the weekend factor to make it a much, much busier path.  In the end, it’s debatable who had the better end of the deal but I know that we all came away thankful for friends and for the ways in which two (families) (or more!) are better than one.  Since Sheri and I had spent quite a bit of time now around Taupo and Tongariro National Park, we were keen to spend our tourist time in more novel ways.  So, I pushed to come home on Sunday even though I had secured Monday away from the lab.  Sheri wanted to capitalize on the fact that we were halfway down the island and unlikely to come that way again.  So, as we drove west from Turangi, we decided that rather than head north, we would continue west and try a stretch of road called the Forgotten World Highway.  Sounds fun, doesn’t it?

In general, the roads of the New Zealand countryside are ridiculously winding and anything but level.  They also do fun things like off-camber roads (sloped away from the turn) and they have a spotty (at best) approach to shoulder barriers.  But the Forgotten World Highway takes everything to a whole new level!  It really is the closest you’ll come (I hope) to a roller coaster ride in a road vehicle.  And I’ve never before seen falling rock signs where there is actually fallen rock in the road before… in some places, the lane against the cliff face was completely blocked.  And shoulder barriers?  Who needs shoulder barriers when you’ve got a dilapidated barbed-wire fence to keep your 3000 lb vehicle from tumbling down a nearly vertical precipice?  (At least you’ll have some nice soft sheep to squish along the way.)  At one point, we had to wait for 10 minutes while a busload of tourists wandered through a single-lane hand-hewn tunnel (which, admittedly, was pretty cool).  Then we left New Zealand and spent some time in the small village of Whangamomona.  Apparently they declared themselves a Republic after some arbitrary re-zoning decision was enacted against them back in 1988.  It was a nice enough place, but hot chocolate is expensive in their Republic and we made the kids share one $5 cup.  Having somewhat re-settled our stomachs, we bravely re-entered New Zealand and made our way over to Stratford, near Mount Taranaki.

The next day, we visited said Mount and, since it was pouring rain, we had it completely to ourselves!  Sadly, we could only endure about 45 minutes before we were soaked, cold, crying (mostly the kids), and done…  In that time, though, we managed to see the Goblin forest and Dawson falls, so we weren’t completely shut out.  From there, we went to New Plymouth and admired the Tasman from the sea wall before pointing Buster north for a drive along the coast.  It was, as so much here is, stunning and lovely and we had a fairly uneventful trip back up to Auckland.  And so it was that I returned to school after another action-adventure packed long weekend.

Since then, we have stayed a bit closer to our home base here.  We have been to Devonport a couple of times (North side of Auckland harbour) and have the ridden the ferry back and forth (Annalise was a bit disappointed to learn what a ferry boat was… she had been expecting a ‘fairy’ boat, which, undoubtedly, would have been even more exciting).  We have been to St. Helier’s beach, Karaka Bay, Mission Beach (our church did a baptism service there!), Browns Bay, Mount Eden, and, well, you get the idea.  Here and there and back and forth again.

For December, we launched the holiday season with Sinter Klaas on December 6.  We had Will and Danielle over for a bit of a Canadian feast.  I brined a Turkey overnight and the big question was how long to cook it.  …  You think that’s a no-brainer, don’t you?  Well, the trick is that Kiwi’s don’t really do Turkey and so they sell them in large-chicken size.  Ours was just over 5 pounds and I challenge you to try and find a recipe for a Turkey that small.  It would seem that our North-American roasting guides have never heard of a Turkey of less than 8 pounds.  In any case, we slow roasted it and it was done with plenty of time to spare.  I made gravy with the drippings, Sheri made pumpkin pie, Danielle brought stuffing and veg and we all ate like Canadian kings.  It was fantastic (I think Will said it was the best meal he had had so far in Auckland)!

And then just last week, Sheri and I had the ridiculously nice blessing of 2 nights away on our own.  We went to a spot near the little town of Raglan, about an hour and a half away from Auckland on the west coast.  It’s a cute little town with shops and cafes and a quiet tourist-friendly atmosphere.  It also boasts a large backpacker hostel and decent surfing, so there’s a significant surfer contingent wandering around.  The place we stayed was very lovely, but it was just the peace and solitude that we revelled in.  We really, really love our kids but there is something good for the soul in spending a night or two away from them every now and again (our last opportunity was at the beginning of January).  For this, I really have to thank my Mom for providing us with the means and a young woman in our church, Madeleine, for taking on our hooligans for 45 hours.  (Madeleine is a Australian who really wants to see the kingdom of God advance in New Zealand and has been here doing all she can for our young church and for Rowan and Sarah as they lead it and get it off the ground.  She’s pretty amazing.  (And Annalise was very excited to have her come, so that says a lot about how cool she is.))

And now here we are at Christmas.  It doesn’t feel like Christmas to me… Ottawa just got a big pile of snow and I really wish I was there to plow it, make a slide, and thrash out some snow angels.  But I made a sand castle at the beach today (December 22) and that definitely has its own charm.

I’ve said above that I know whom I have believed.  That’s a quote from 2 Timothy 1:12: “…I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day.”  In Christianity, much is made of what we believe (and, sometimes, what we don’t), but it is important to make clear that it is so very much more about in whom we believe.  John 1 starts in this way “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ² He was in the beginning with God. ³ All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made. ⁴ In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. ⁵ And the light shines in the darkness…” and a few verses later continues: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.”  As we step through the last few days before Christmas, I marvel anew at this concept; the One of power and life (the light of men!) through whom all things were made…  did what?! Seized the reins of human order and set all things to right? No. Became flesh. 

Annalise & Her Manger

Became a baby… baby boy.  Like my Everett.  Philippians 2 says “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus:  Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men”.  Like me, like you.  It’s incredible, and incredibly wonderful.  “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is…” (Luke 2:8)  and I’ve intentionally left 3 words off the end there.  The word in the first blank forms the first syllable of Christmas, which identifies him (and means Messiah, Saviour, Liberator), the second is ‘the’ which defines him in singularity (‘the’, not ‘a’), and the final word defines his position in all of time, space, and existence.  It can also be found in 2 Timothy, part of which I quoted above, as Paul lays out the reason for the reality that faces every one of us.  Whether you believe today, or not, there is a title that you will one day acknowledge (and relinquish) to this One who became flesh (not least because he became it for you)… continuing from the quote above “made in the likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.  Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name:  That at the name of …” who? “Jesus” Yes! That’s the name we know him by, but not the one referred to as being above every name.  That’s still to come… “… at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that …” here it comes…  Who is it that was born on Christmas day?  Who is it that died for you?  “Jesus Christ”  Yes!  Jesus the Messiah is his name, but still not his ultimate position, not his title for your life, for mine, for everyone and everything else’s… that’s not the blank left open above, nor what I hold my breath for as the current quote continues with “is…”  Yes, yes… “is” … what?!  I am here to tell you, friends, that at Christmas, the baby who came was and is and always will be… “Lord.”  The blanks are all filled in.  “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord”.  I know whom I have believed.  Do you?

Merry Christmas!