Petrolina Community Challenge, Brazil, June 2011

There are few things more likely to raise the spirits than the sound of a child’s laughter. It is a sound that I have heard often during my years working for Charity Challenge, and today was no exception. Although, to be fair, excited chaos would probably be a more fitting phrase to describe the scene before me. A week ago, where I stood had been little more than an empty collection of concrete shells, overgrown with weeds and littered with the dusty and broken reminders of neglect. However, in the space of five long, hard days, we had helped to transform it into a colourful crèche; one that now echoed to the shrieks and cries of hundreds of children and their bemused parents.

I had travelled out to Petrolina, in north-east Brazil, with a group of volunteers from Reckitt Benckiser. Our mission was to help with the renovation of two crèches for the local community, a project that would go a long way towards creating a welcoming and inspiring environment for the children. Our first day on site though had left a few feeling daunted by the scale of the work ahead. The playgrounds were a tangled mass of weeds, rusting metal and old car tyres, whilst the classrooms themselves were little more than a dingy collection of rooms filled with cobwebs and mosquitoes. 

Over the coming days though we cleared the jungle and removed the rubbish, built walls and sandpits and began to transform the crèches into canvases of colourful murals. We overcame heat and dust, giant toads and limping tarantulas. We cleaned floors and windows, tiled bathrooms and inflated enough balloons to launch a small car. We also had fun! Over the course of the week friendships were made and skills were learnt and by the end of it there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. 

People often tell me I have the best job in the world. Sometimes I disagree, but standing in the middle of that chaos, looking down at a grinning child covered in face paint and clutching a smiley balloon, I have to admit, they may be right.

Copyright Trevor Gibbs 2011

Flying in the Eye of the Wind!

Raileys, slingshots and back loops; life amongst the kitesurfers of Ellan Vannin

Jumping out of the van and climbing onto the top of a natural stone embankment, Dave gazed down across the sands towards the lone figure out on the water. The sun had already begun its lazy journey towards the distant horizon and Castletown was bathed in the rich hues of late afternoon. Little did Dave know it, but his life was about to change. As he watched, the surfer out on the water began to turn towards him, framed against the orange glow of the setting sun. Above him a huge red kite, emblazoned with the word griffin, caught the sunlight. This was Dave’s first introduction to kitesurfing and it was love at first sight. 

Still in its infancy, the sport of kitesurfing hit the adrenalin junkie scene back in the late 1990s. Described as the ultimate hybrid watersport, it is a combination of surfing, snowboarding and flying, with the kite propelling you through the water at exhilarating speeds and providing the necessary lift to perform some breathtaking stunts. At the back end of the last century there were no more than a few dozen kitesurfers worldwide, but today those numbers measure in the hundreds of thousands. Part of its big appeal lies in its ability to satisfy so many different criteria, as Dave explains. “I’ve always loved surfing and wakeboarding, but this guy was flying as well! This was a sport that fused the best of both, yet retained its own unique identity. I skateboarded a little when I was younger, but I had never felt that it was right for me. Could this be what I was looking for? I could surf a wave, ride back and surf the same break, again and again. I could jump 30 foot high! I had to get into this sport. I needed it in my life!”

Back in the real world Dave works for a double glazing firm on the island, where his fitting partner Nige and his manager Ian have both long been vociferous advocates of kitesurfing. After his introduction to the sport in Castletown, Dave was keen to continue his education, and Nige and Ian both seemed more than happy for him to tag along. Which is why he found himself heading up to Ballaugh on a cold autumn day some weeks later, to a spot that he was reliably informed would be ‘perfect nine metre weather’. Hideously underdressed, in a pair of board shorts and a less than flattering hoodie, Dave watched the guys performing, taking shot after shot with his camera as they mastered back loops and boosts out on the grey, foaming water. Dave was itching to get out there and join them, but Ballaugh is not the place to cut your teeth. Within the protection of the lagoon it can be a beautiful place to surf, but out on the open water the sea can hit you with all the fury it can muster and winds topping 25 knots can punish you big time.

It was actually back in Castletown, where he had first been introduced to the sport, that Dave finally got to indulge his new found addiction. It took him most of that winter and cost him some big slams, but eventually he mastered the board and the waves. Castletown is the most widely used stretch of beach on the island for kitesurfing. The prevailing southwesterlies and the geography of the surrounding coastline keeps the wave heights down in the centre of the bay and generally ensures a smooth wind. Usually its beautifully sandy too and on an incoming tide the place is just a dream to surf. The problem here though can be launching and landing, and not just on the high tide. The beach lies at the end of the island’s main runway and coming face to face with the undercarriage of an incoming flight from Liverpool can certainly get the adrenalin going. As Dave has discovered over the years, you learn fast how to keep your kite low when there’s a ‘bird in the air’!

Over the past three years Dave has learned a lot from photographing the local kiters on the island. A small community within a community, they are always keen to pass on tips and advice to other willing surfers and he appreciates the open friendliness and the social interaction too. There is never any hint of snobbery or cliques amongst the group and it seems that even the wives and girlfriends have accepted their addiction with good grace. Dave’s long suffering wife Katie is patiently tolerant of his excitable fidgeting whenever the winds pick up, and listens with equal understanding to his constant outbursts about raileys and flat 3s, even though she usually has no idea what he is talking about!

For such a small island the Isle of Man has a staggeringly rich vein of potential surf sites. As well as Castletown and Ballaugh, there is also Derbyhaven, which provides smooth, flat water and over a quarter of a mile of safe practice water on a low tide. No more than a metre in depth, it is great for trying out new tricks or perfecting old ones. The big thrill here apparently, especially for the freestyle fans, is at high tide. Derbyhaven comprises a sandy bar and a harbour that is protected by a water locked pier, which means at high tide it is pan flat, but at the harbour entrance, the tight rolling surf hitting the flat water produces a fantastic transition point which provides some perfect natural kickers. Indeed the island’s very size is its strength in many ways, because no matter which way the wind is blowing, there is always more than one spot to surf and its never more than about half an hour away, with Port Erin, Peel, Gansey and Laxey all providing equally exhilarating venues if tides and winds are fortuitous. 

For those looking to get in to this relatively new and exciting sport, the Isle of Man truly is a hidden gem that will, in Dave’s opinion, prove something of an undiscovered little gold mine for kite enthusiasts in the future. 

So, if you fancy trying something a bit different this summer, how about joining Dave and co and taking on the waters, and skies, around Ellan Vannin. 

For more information, check out the Isle of Man Kitesurfing page on Facebook.

© Trevor Gibbs 2011

Chajara: Horse whispering, healing and happy days ahead!

There is an old Arab proverb that declares the horse to be God’s gift to mankind. I reflect on those words now, as I watch a small, 6 year old autistic boy make his way across a muddy field in the early light of a crisp autumnal morning. In his wake follow two beautiful thoroughbred racehorses.

It was a scene that could have come straight out of a Hollywood movie. As it was, I was stood beside a field in a remote and tranquil corner of Bride, on a cold Saturday morning in late November. This is Chajara, a new and unique enterprise that is focused on the concept of healing through horses. The brainchild of Charlotte Mackenzie and Rachel Smith, it began life a few months ago, when the pair were generously gifted three horses from the Shadwell Estate in Thetford, England. Charlotte takes up the story: 

‘I had returned from Dubai full of the desert and I wanted to bring that connection and all the positive things that had happened to me out there back home. I’d been in the thoroughbred racing industry for over 20 years and out in the Middle East I had been working with one of Sheikh Hamdam bin Rashid Al Maktoum’s trainers, so I approached my contacts there to see if they would be willing to help. Amazingly, the Shadwell Estate jumped at the chance to help. Other centres in the UK have had a lot of success with using ex racehorses in rehabilitation and education programmes, but there is nothing like it in the Isle of Man, so I wanted to try to give something back, both to the horses themselves and to the people who would best benefit from their contact with them.’

One such person is young James, who has been coming here for a few weeks now. His contact with the horses seems to have had a profound affect on him, something that his mother has become all to aware of, as she goes on to explain.  ‘Because he doesn’t speak, James can’t tell anybody what he wants and he gets very frustrated. Children with autism have a totally different perception to things; they see and hear things differently. Here he can be totally chilled, just wandering around and checking things out. This is perfect. He has freedom and there is no noise, its absolutely gorgeous.’

The seeds of this innovative idea were first sown on a small farm in rural Ontario, Canada, where, as a child, Charlotte watched her parents dealing with the children of their city friends. Each summer, the farm would become a haven for kids from the suburbs, who were able to channel their energies into positive pursuits; energies that may have otherwise have sent them down a different road entirely. It is a memory that has stayed with Charlotte all her life and one that will ultimately turn Chajara into a proper farm, one where people; whether they be children or adults, special needs or simply troubled, can come and heal. Both Charlotte and Rachel are aware that it is a process that works both ways. ‘I remember how I was transformed going through the process on the farm’, says Charlotte, ‘I was a city kid and I was not happy. I was troubled. Then my parents go out and buy a farm and my whole life changed.’ Even Rachel’s own children have benefited from their association with the horses and all three are now more than happy to wander around a field with an oversized wheelbarrow and a shovel collecting horse manure. Chajara is very much a family orientated enterprise.

A qualified Equine Sports Massage Therapist, as well as a Reiki practitioner, Charlotte first met Rachel four years ago when Rachel attended a healing session. The pair connected straight away and as Charlotte began to contemplate more and more the whole idea of Chajara, she turned to Rachel as a kindred spirit. Rachel also comes from a horse racing background and both seem to compliment each other perfectly, with Charlotte readily admitting that it is Rachel’s steadying influence that keeps her firmly earthbound. But with the dream now beginning to take shape, both fully admit that what they really need are better facilities and funding. The field they are currently using has been unselfishly loaned to them by Charlotte’s neighbours, but as the enterprise grows, both realise that they will soon outgrow their current location and are looking around for more suitable premises.

With the growing interest surrounding the recent book and film of ‘The Horse Boy’, Rupert Isaacson’s moving account of his own spiritual journey of discovery with his autistic son Rowan, Charlotte and Rachel are keen to capitalise on this renewed belief in the power of the horse. Charlotte openly admits that Isaacson’s story was a big inspiration to her and she approached him for advice and feedback when she first conceived the idea, finding him incredibly supportive and helpful.

The ultimate aim is to provide a centre where there will be opportunities for people - children and adults alike - to learn the social skills that most of us take for granted and to examine their own needs and relationships through their interaction with the horses. Speaking to James’s mom, it seems that Chajara fills a need that is greatly lacking on the Isle of Man and she would love to see it expand so that more children like her son could benefit. In the UK, places like the Greatwood Charity have been helping to rehabilitate former racehorses and children with special educational needs for years, but this is the first such venture over here. As Charlotte points out ‘...there isn’t actually a centre where children, or whoever, can come and have nature, horses and healing all in one place. When James first came here he was very wary of getting dirty. Today he was happily wading through mud in his wellies with the other children. You can’t package that. That is the essence of nature.’ 

Winston Churchill once wrote: ‘There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man’. Looking around me at the smiles on the faces of young James and Rachel’s own three children, I can well believe that. Chajara seems to appeal to a basic need in all of us, one that many of us tend to lose sight of amongst the hustle and bustle of everyday life. As Charlotte so eloquently puts it, ‘...its all so authentic somehow. Horses see through the hypocrisy and the facade’.

For more information about Chajara contact Charlotte Mackenzie or Rachel Smith at Chajara@hotmail.com, or take a look at the ‘Chajara, Healing Through Horses’ Facebook page.

Travels with Martina: A journey to the Roof of Africa with a tennis legend

For Martina Navratilova, the evening of December 9, 2010, was to prove an ignominious end to what had been a particularly tough year. As she lay strapped to a stretcher, breathing from an emergency oxygen supply, the winner of 18 Grand Slam titles had chance to reflect on a year that had begun with her breaking her wrist, had then seen her diagnosed with breast cancer and was now ending with her being evacuated off a mountain with a life threatening case of high altitude pulmonary oedema.

Part of a team of athletes, journalists and volunteers, raising funds for the Laureus Sport for Good Foundation, the ex-Wimbledon champion had been attempting to reach the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, Africa’s highest peak. By day four though, just over 2000 metres short of the summit, the combination of a debilitating stomach bug and a build up of fluid in her lungs had prompted the decision to undertake an emergency night-time dash off the mountain. The next four hours saw her being carried down the mountain by a team of porters, where a vehicle was waiting to drive her to a local medical facility, to be flown on to a hospital in Nairobi.

For me though, this was just one incident in what was turning out to be one of the hardest treks I had ever done. I had been employed to help lead the team to the top, but since we had set out from Marangu four days ago we had seen nothing of Kilimanjaro’s famous snow-capped crater. Instead, we had endured days of torrential rain and driving blizzards and by the time we reached the camp at Horombo many of the team were beginning to feel the effects of both the mountain and the weather. And now I had the added problem of our major celebrity disappearing on a stretcher into the inky abyss of an African night. The team that remained behind though still included some notable personalities, including British Olympic Badminton star, Gail Emms, and Michael Teuber, a German Paralympic cyclist, who over the coming days was to prove an inspiration to many in Martina’s absence.

The morning following Martina’s sad departure we began the long hike up to Barafu Camp, the usual expansive views being replaced again by enveloping cloud and a steady driving rain, which over the course of the next 8 hours turned into a full raging blizzard. By the time we reached our summit camp many were beginning to seriously doubt their ability to make it to the top the following day and I had to admit that without some favourable intervention by the weather gods even I was doubting our chances of making it. The mess tent and the porters’ kitchen that evening took on the semblance of a Chinese laundry, as gloves, waterproofs and hats were hung from every available space in an effort to dry them out.

That night we retired to bed early, ready for a midnight attempt on the summit, and it was with some trepidation that I unzipped my tent just a few hours later to check on the weather. The sky above me though was a blaze of stars! It seems that our prayers had been answered, and as we began the long climb to the top, the valley echoed to the encouraging songs of our Tanzanian guides. As we progressed up the mountain I kept casting nervous glances to the heavens above, wondering how long the skies would remain clear, but as we approached Stella Point and the rising sun began to cast its warming glow across the landscape, it became clear that we would finally get to see Kilimanjaro in all its majestic glory.

In spite of the weather and the far from favourable condition, 18 of the team made it to the top and it was a very happy group of people that were reunited with Martina three days later at Nairobi’s Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. For many it had proven to be a far tougher challenge than they could ever have imagined and, in spite of its recent popularity amongst trekking groups, Martina Navratilova’s near fatal encounter had heralded for many a much needed reminder of the dangers of underestimating a journey to the summit of Africa’s most iconic mountain.

Copyright Trevor Gibbs 2011

On 12th January 2010 the Haitian capital of Port au Prince was devastated by an earthquake that left nearly 250,000 people dead. One year on and many of the survivors still have no hope of a stable future and probably didn't have much of a Christmas either. Its a sobering thought isn't it.

Six months after the original quake I went out to Haiti with a team of journalists from GMTV and the News of the World. Below is a link to a short BBC audio piece that followed my visit.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/local/isleofman/hi/people_and_places/newsid_8882000/8882370.stm