Meet Libby Eyre.

Libby is an independent marine biologist helping us to conduct our whale and dolphin survey. Rain, hail, sunshine or snow, she has spent the last week or so on the bridge of the Rainbow Warrior, staring out to sea through binoculars. Usually she is based in Sydney, Australia, as the Biological Science Museum curator, and scientific officer, at Macquarie University.

Not only is Libby an experienced whale watcher, with over 20 years experience whale watching in the South Pacific, but this is her fifth whale survey with Greenpeace. In fact, two of them have been on the Rainbow Warrior. Libby has also done surveys in the Indian Ocean whale sanctuary, and has documented the environmental and human-induced threats to marine life. Her Indian Ocean surveys were submitted to the IWC.

Our whale survey is being conducted without equipment (other than binoculars and very warm jackets, because it can get freezing up there). We have four observers working at any one time, on shifts of 2 hours on, 2 hours off. We are also working in all weather. Usually, whale surveys stop when it gets above Beauford scale Force 4 (to give you an idea of the weather we work in, the photo I posted the other day was of Libby whale watching in Force 9! And it was snowing to boot.) This is because the time we have is quite short, scientifically speaking, and we need to make the most of it.

Libby says she would have expected to see more marine animals so far. We saw what we believe were 4 Finless Porpoises, 1 minke whale and some dolphins in over a week at sea.

We've had several flurries of excitement today, and I don't just mean the chocolate cake (which was, admittedly, exciting - I think I'm getting as food obsessed as Tapio on here, and that is quite a feat.)

Firstly, we spotted a minke whale after breakfast. It surfaced three times and then calmly proceeded towards shore. Libby said it was young, only about 3 metres long (it gives you some idea of the majesty of a creature when its babies are 3 metres long.)

I didn't personally get to see the minke whale, but the afternoon more than made up for it.

A beautiful pod of "long-beaked common dolphins" came to play in the Rainbow Warrior's bow wave. It was a stunning sight, sleek and beautiful dolphins gliding towards us in the warmly lit afternoon. Most of us clambered onto the bow, braving the icy wind, to hang over the railings. You could hear the dolphins whistling above the waves and us humans laughing out loud with them, we just couldn't help it. It really was an amazing moment. A strange feeling though, to see them under the bow - it was so tempting to dive in and touch them. We all felt like we wanted to talk to them or get their attention, but of course didn't know how. There's something about them that is almost human, the way they enjoyed each others'company and kept their young close by, and the way they really did come to play and surf in our wake. Despite the cold we all were transfixed by them for at least an hour. I wanted to capture the moment but my camera proved too slow -attached is one of my very bad photos. Derek, the captain, who had an eventful morning fixing a propellor in scuba tank and shorts, was spotted filming the dolphins from deck. I think if such an experienced seaman as Derek is still fascinated by dolphins, they must have something very special.

It seems however that not everyone thinks so. We had a disturbing phone call from Jim this afternoon telling us that a dolphin had been caught and butchered in a whalemeat market today. Photographers from KFEM apparently managed to get photos of this, but were nearly beaten up for their trouble. I haven't got the full details of this yet, but will keep you posted. Jeena, Yewon and I were very shocked to hear this. After spending the afternoon in the company of such gentle, noble creatures, it really is very hard to imagine how someone can look one in the eye and even think of killing it.

The other news we heard today was about the earthquake and tsunami in Sumatra. This resonated with some of the crew quite hard since they spent some weeks earlier this year helping in the aftermath of the Boxing Day Tsunami in Banda Aceh. It struck me that without television, it is so hard to connect to the enormity of such a disaster, and I realised how much I rely on the BBC and CNN to package up my news and give it to me in digestible form. But it was a different kind of sadness and a different kind of empathy I felt hearing that kind of news out here in the ocean.

Derek, the Rainbow Warrior's captain, stood by the toaster stirring the tea in his favourite red and white mug. "They've seen a whale up there you know," he remarked calmly. Feeling stupid, Matilda and I immediately flung our toast aside and, arming ourselves with cameras, raced to the bridge. It was an absolutely glorious day, the sea smooth and calm, and very little wind. Unfortunately, if there was a whale, it wasn't staying around to enjoy the sunshine. Libby, our marine biologist, says our maritime friend could have been a Finless Porpoise or a minke whale, but we can't be sure. So it is noted in our survey as an unidentified cetacean, or USO (Unidentified Swimming Object) as Dave and I prefer to call it.

Disappointed at such a close brush with our sought-after marine mammals, we all prepared to continue whale watching in case it came back.

I wonder how any whale or porpoise would navigate itself amongst the fisheries staked out along the coast - there are assorted buoys, flags, nets and fishing boats dotted the entire length of the coast. Flocks of seagulls are sitting outside eagerly eyeing the fishing buoys. There are especially a lot of squid fisheries in this area, and Mr Mun, the font of incredible knowledge (dental and otherwise), tells me the area is famous for its fish and sushi restaurants.

Meanwhile, we saw conflicting sights on the coastal land - a huge nuclear power plant, but further along a small yet very functional wind farm. I honestly don't understand why people think wind farms are ugly, they remind me of big dandelions with the seeds blown off. Once we reached the wind farm we put up the Rainbow Warrior's beautiful sails, with deckhands Sam and Jeena (apologies for earlier mis-spellings, Jeena) learning to climb the mast and work with the sails. Some of the crew skimmed around the ship in the inflatables doing boat training, as we watched with binoculars from deck (I had to laugh at Phil, the outboard mechanic, calmly sitting on the edge of an inflatable giving driving hints to Caterina. He is Mr Unruffled - he even wears his spectacles in the inflatables like a very calm office worker.) On the bridge, Oscar fired up U2 on the ipod. Mexican food for lunch topped off a lovely morning (who needs more from life than Mexican food, U2, sea and sunshine, I'd like to know?!) It helped to offset my computer fatigue anyway.

Now however the weather is picking up and we're going to batten down for the night. The wind is literally whistling through the Warrior's masts. Even though I have a sneaking feeling that this is the calm before the storm, it was nice to have our day in the sun.

As promised, here is the schedule for the Open Boat days in Pusan, so if
you happen to be in the area, come and visit us!

APRIL 3rd - PUSAN MARITIME UNIVERSITY

10:00 - 17:00 - Open Boat

10:00 - Welcoming ceremony with traditional music, dance and a small
orchestra

11:00 - Welcoming speeches

Another first for Greenpeace. We successfully completed a circumnavigation of Cheju Island. In what will probably go down in the records as an amazing feat of seamanship we completed the voyage in 48 hours and without a single case of scurvy nor any thoughts of mutinous intent. Oh, and we did not see a single sea mammal.

Cheju Island (aka Honeymoon Island) is famous for its 3 elements: wind, rock and women. The women were reknowned for being divers and doing all the work whilst the men did nothing (comment from Dave: seems like a pretty good arrangement to me). But, alas this arrangement has gradually equalised (comment from Dave: damn feminists) (comment from Adele: damn Dave).

Now we are sailing up the South East coast and still not a whale nor dolphin in sight. This morning we came across an amazing sight of 50+ purse seiners all fishing within a 2.5 square mile area. They are after anchovies and the horizon was black with smoke from their processing ships. The 30 metre catcher boats work in pairs and feed the 50 metre processing boats. (comment from Adele: the photograph is a photo of two catcher boats taken by KFEM photographer Mr Lee). We filmed this from the Rainbow Warrior but the weather was on the limit for launching a RiB and there was very heavy rain. According to Mr Mun (our dentist whale watcher) we will come across more of these and as soon as the conditions are right we will film from a RiB. These fishermen hate dolphins as they say they get into the nets and eat the fish. Frankly I think that any dolphin that arrives in their nets does so driven by noise and confusion. As for whales transitting the area they are presented with an inpenetrable maze of nets, albeit over a relatively small area. This was defintely a classic example of the neagative effects of over capacity of fishing gear. This example also begs the question; how can this incredibly intensive fishing be sustainable in the long term?

For the rest it's a typical lazy Sunday with all those not on watches or whale watching chilling out (comment from Adele: or getting involved in the shipwide battle over what movie to watch after dinner - it's down to "Amelie" vs "Terminator 3"). Radio Operator Neil is doing homemade pizzas for dinner, and no, I already asked, he doesn't do home deliveries and we've told him to go easy on the anchovies!

The end of day 7 of the survey and not one marine mammal spotted.

Cheers from the crew and the campaign team.

-Dave

"Life on a ship has been compared to life in prison, but with the additional risk of drowning" - The wisdom of Tapio, engineer.

These were the inspiring words written in the mess last night as we ate dinner (Phil thinks Tapio should tour Finland as a motivational speaker on his return home). I'm starting to see where Tapio is coming from! On our quest for whales, unsuccessful so far, we are all living in very close quarters and working hard.

Today has been fairly uneventful, still no whales. It's been like a kind of transplanted day - doing the kind of things I would probably do at home but on a ship. So, forgive my uninspired mood and I'll tell you about it. Sounds like Yewon was having a much more interesting time with her "secret agents" up on nightwatch!

The day started at 7.30. I had some toast, luckily I'm not addicted to Vegemite like many of my fellow Australians. (If you're lucky you can perhaps grab a bit of Vegemite from someone's secret stash, otherwise you have to raid the pile of New Zealand marmite in the mess which just isn't quite the same.) After this I checked the cleaning roster (today, there was also a cleaning rooster drawn on the blackboard, which, strangely for a rooster, had apparently laid eggs). Duties on the roster, not the rooster, might include cleaning the heads (that's toilets for all you non-sailors), cleaning the pantry, sweeping and mopping floors and alleyways, cleaning the showers, the bridge or the office, or sorting out the garbage into appropriate recycling categories and taking it to the correct bins on deck. Later on I did my washing, the difference on a ship being if the floor is shaking more than the washing machine is, then it's not a good wash day! Needless to say, this has meant I now have quite a collection of smelly socks.

And then, I'm sorry to say, I spent a lot of the day in front of this computer. Of course, the view from my window was quite spectacular and constantly changing, with the beautiful island of Cheju appearing at all angles - we've now managed to circumnavigate it in our fruitless quest for marine mammals. It has been quite disappointing seeing not one single whale or dolphin, considering that Cheju is supposed to be a prime habitat for finless porpoises. I feel sorry for the KFEM cameramen on board who have had to resort to filming us doing the cleaning!

I'm also starting to worry about our reception in whaling towns - so much for warm welcomes. I was also disappointed to read last night some of the truly horrendous science being used to estimate how many whales and dolphins there actually are around here - a high school biology student would fail giving that kind of evidence. We only hear media reports and science debates in snatches via email, or faxed from land, so it's also strange being cut off from the huge wash of media we are usually surrounded by, and hard to judge what we are up against.

Anyway, right now I'm eating two-minute noodles (extra spicy flavour, provided by our Korean friends) and watching the aptly named Oceans 12 in the mess (and envying George Clooney's large glass of red wine, oh what I would give!). It's great to have a bit of a break, at least in our heads. But, like I think Tapio was trying to say, we're always in this space, and it's a whole new dynamic working and living in it.

Mr Mun is apparently now famous in Ulsan. Partly for his deep
commitment to environmental activism, but partly as the loudest snorer
on the Rainbow Warrior. (Luckily for me, Mr Mun has a good sense of
humour - oh, and he's very handsome too, so he tells me!) But since you
now all know about his snoring, I think it's only fair to explore his
other famous attribute, which is a fascinating tale of how a young
dentist became an environmentalist and even defeated an international
chemical company, set against the changing politics of post World War 2
Korea.

Today we are off Jeju Island, also known as the honeymoon island.

Mr
Mun pointed out to me that the snow-covered caps of Jeju's Mt Hallasan,
an extinct volcano, are only visible for one month a year, so we are
very lucky that we can see it today. It is a gloriously clear, sunny
day, with the blue water blissfully calm around us - a relief to all of
us who struggled with the heaving waves yesterday. The crew is
scrubbing the decks and washing the "monkey island," above the bridge,
in the sunshine. I sat down with Mr Mun to find out some more about his
fascinating past.

Mr Mun told me that the key aspects of Korean culture revolve around
"well being". But it saddens him to see that for some Koreans "well
being" is associated with higher buildings, more express highways, and
lots of factories. "I think well being is about having a non-stressful,
ordinary life," he says. "Fresh air, and many species living together."
This, he says, is what Korean culture was originally based around.
"Originally we thought that mankind and nature were equal, that our
bodies and the earth are one, that is the true Korean mindset." But
somehow this got lost in Korea's history of invasion and colonisation,
and the corruption of post-WW2 military government. Mr Mun believes in
progress, but not to the detriment of a sense of harmony.

Because in the 60s and 70s the Korean people rebelled against the
governments' authority, Mr Mun says he believes the government needed a
"symbol" to control and inspire ordinary citizens. That symbol was
'economic development'. According to my trusty Lonely Planet guide to
Korea, even now the country's economic system "continues to be far more
developed and sophisticated than its political system." Mr Mun also says
that Korea's economic development is like a reflection of US culture.

Korea is still based on a class system. Mr Mun says that he believes
that his father's generation was an unbalanced society. "Because of
such conditions in my family, there was always a fight. I thought, I
cannot solve my personal problems, so what can I do for my country?" Mr
Mun was a student of dentistry in the 70s, but he says that because the
citizens were oppressed by the military, he also was secretly studying
other political systems and revolutions. "I only knew myself," he says,
"I wanted to study and have a new eye for society." He also read a lot
about Che Guevara. "Such a normal person!" he says.

In South Korea, there are still 45,000 US troops, and many regional
differences in law. Mr Mun is from Ulsan, one of the most
industrialised areas of South Korea. Ulsan is where the IWC will be
held in June this year, and is generally a pro-whaling area. It is an
area heavily involved in ship-building, oil refining, automobile
manufacturing (Hyundai's biggest Korean factory is there), fertilizer
production, and chemical production. Some of these chemicals are highly
toxic and in fact in the 1980s Mr Mun says many residents who were
employed in agricultural or fishery jobs were asked to relocate, by the
government, for a very small payment. This was because symptoms similar
to mercury and cadmium poisoning were appearing in local citizens, sadly
mainly in primary school children. Other chemicals produced in the area
are ingredients in teargas and insecticides.

"The 1980s were very different to now," says Mr Mun. "Korea was still a
military state, the people had no power." At this time the large
international chemical company, DuPont, tried to set up a factory in
Ulsan, which would have produced dangerous air-borne pollution. But
they hadn't reckoned on Mr Mun and his fellow dentists. In 1991, Mr Mun
and a like-minded Protestant priest banded together to stop DuPont's
toxic factory, and founded the Ulsan chapter of the People's Solidarity
Against Pollution. "We did this via demonstrations and public
statements," says Mr Mun. "All Ulsan dentists signed this petition!"
The company then sent all Ulsan dentists their magazine, trying to claim
that their products were safe.
DuPont's representative even visited the People's Solidarity Against
Pollution and tried to convince them that the company was
always environmentally friendly. Mr Mun's response? "You are a liar.
What of the evidence in India and Latin America?"

Mr Mun and his dentists were successful in stopping DuPont's factory.
Over the years, his anti-pollution organisation grew and united with
other regional groups to form KFEM, Korea's biggest environmental group,
and he says now that he thinks anti-pollution and anti-whaling are part
of the same thing - a belief in harmony with nature.

In the late 90s, Mr Mun was "psychologically tired". He left his dental
clinic in the hands of another dentist and went to China to study
Chinese and Asian books. There he studied the plight of minority groups
around the borders of China. When he returned to Korea, his father had
died after a long struggle with cancer. His family, for the last 300
years, had owned 100 hectares of beautiful natural forest. After the
death of his father, Mr Mun and his wife decided to make this forest an
ecological reserve. Professors have come to visit it and been amazed at
the biodiversity it contains. The local government is unwilling to help
Mr Mun in this, so volunteers are working as Park Rangers and tour guides.

"The whole country is thinking 'development', but this forest is my
statement," says Mr Mun. "I will never give up." In Ulsan, Mr Mun is
"somewhat famous". "Environmentalists in Korea know who I am and what I
think," he says. "This voyage on the Rainbow Warrior is my dessert for
these discussions."

"Some people would pay good money for a ride like this," remarked the
ship's electrician as we once again rolled violently to the side. "That
would have to be in England," quipped Oscar, the first mate (who is
Spanish). Sure enough, the electrician was referring to Alton Towers,
down the road from his home town. I pointed out that Alton Towers had
once been voted the worst amusement park in Britain.

The whole situation was quite surreal. We were up on the bridge
watching the huge waves breaking around us from behind as the ship
pitched and rolled. Oscar had plugged his ipod into the stereo system
and The Rolling Stones blared out like a movie soundtrack. The two
Daves leant against the control panels talking about the Two Ronnies (an
old British television program, for my non-Commonwealth readers),
quoting their favourite lines. Libby, our marine biologist, was still
watching for whales despite the horrendous weather, standing on deck
battered by snow and salt water (that is her in the photo, the little
white spots you can see are snow, and that wall of water is a wave!).
All of this was punctuated by the occasional loud snores of Mr Mun, one
of our whale experts, sleeping soundly in the corner.

It has been rough, with Force 9 winds and flurries of snow. At one
point, the snow virgins emerged (as they are now affectionately referred
to by Phil, the bosun). Gina, who is from Fiji, and Dilip, from India,
were so excited by the snow that they ran on deck to see it.

Personally, if I was a whale today I would be well under water, hoping
to take it easy with Spongebob Squarepants on the ocean floor. Not
being a whale, I haven't been hanging out with Spongebob Squarepants to
my great disappointment, but I have been horizontal most of the day. In
fact, looking at a computer is the most painful experience in this
situation, so I'm typing this from my bunk. Sadly, I seem to be quite
pathetic at dealing with this weather, so forgive me if today's blog is
a bit shorter and more incoherent than usual!

Our cabin is below the water level, we can hear the water bubbling
around us, which is odd - it sounds kind of metallic and bubbly, like
those submarine sound effects in old James Bond movies. The rough
weather makes life on the ship quite strange - trying to do an ordinary
task is 10 times harder, you feel as if a poltergeist is following you
and pushing you against walls or tying a rope around your feet at the
oddest moments. (They seem to especially love pushing you down stairs).
The bad weather has had another tragic outcome - an outbreak of socks
and sandals. This is a personal pet hate of mine, but I have to admit
that this particular combination does have some practical application on
a ship - warmer than sandals alone, easier than finding and putting on
shoes while the room rolls around you. (But Dave will not be forgiven if
I spot them on shore later!)

Tomorrow I am going to help out with the whale watching. We are shortly
arriving in Jeju, the so-called "honeymoon island" just south of the
Korean peninsula. Turns out for some of us it could be - Hoany, one of
the KFEM bunch, has told us he has friends on Jeju and has offered to
provide some of us single girls with boyfriends. Neil thinks this is
because we appear to be "sad gits". We prefer to think that Hoany is
kind-hearted (or, as Matilda says more accurately, feels sorry for us
being stuck here with Neil!). Anyway, apparently the area is the best
place to spot Finless Porpoises, although Libby warns us not to get our
hopes up. I guess I'm definitely not going to spot them from my bunk,
so I am going to make my way up and attempt some dinner now.

The police boat was approaching fast. Up on deck, I squinted against the sun. We could see an important-looking official covered in medals behind the darkened glass of the boat's bridge. In my books, big important person with medals + Greenpeace = trouble (although Phil later informed me that I should be more worried when it's riot gear). But to my surprise, the police were incredibly friendly. They told us that they felt that we were protecting Korea's environment so they would do whatever they could to help. It turned out it had taken them two hours to reach us from their headquarters which was further down the coast. We gave them some hot coffee as well as Greenpeace caps, badges and calendars. One of the officers asked our translator to translate the phrase "Do you have another hat for me?" ...so we guess they liked the caps.

Today we took a brief break from the whales survey to support KFEM (the Korean NGO we are working with) as they struggle to defend a local tidal mudflat called Saemangum, which is an important habitat for many species of wildlife. The area is also important as a nursery for certain types of invertebrate, such as shrimps and molluscs, which are eaten by some whales – including the endangered Korean Gray.

So what's going to happen to this wetland? In 1991, the Korean government began building a 33–kilometre sea wall to "reclaim" the mudflats for agricultural use. It seems now though that the reclaimed land will be too saline for agricultural use, so they have to come up with something else. Other proposals now on the table include the construction of the worlds largest golf course – a massive 540 hole international complex. The US military has also indicated that it is planning to expand its airforce base on the edge of the wetlands, as part of a $250 million "facelift". (Personally I wouldn't want to risk putting a golf-ball through the window of an F111 fighter jet, but that's just me). KFEM is asking that the Korean government allow another hole in the 33km wall so that the sea can flow through to the creatures that depend on it.

One of the fisherman from the area showed us a huge piece of whalebone that he found in Saemangum, which strongly indicates there were once more whales in the area. He also told us that other fishermen who complain that whales and dolphins are threatening fisheries are wrong, and that it is just an excuse for overfishing and the resumption of whaling. He said that even if dolphins were eating a lot of squid that he'd still rather have them in his waters than not.

Our action plan was to take the inflatables to the seawall, where KFEM were holding a demonstration, using large blue pieces of cloth that symbolised water flowing over the seawall. I decided there was no way I was going to stay behind on the ship, and Yewon and I suited up for the journey.

We arrived at Saemangum and, in front of a boat of media, hung banners between inflatables and flew flags in front of the protest KFEM was holding on the wall itself. KFEM had set up a huge inflatable whale and were fluttering the blue banners with which they spelt out "SOS" (Save our Semangeum). Due to the aforementioned difficulty I had in just hanging on to the boat, I didn't get many pictures, but I did manage to get a nice one of Gina with her SOS flag.

Wearing one of those famous orange boatsuits emblazoned with "Greenpeace" felt so weird, but so right. I bet that my high school teachers saw this coming a long way off. But in all those photos and on TV, Greenpeace activists make it look easy. Even though I felt like a complete action hero, to be honest, I had trouble just staying inside the boat - even now, hours later, my left leg is still killing me from pushing against the base, and my fingers are stiff and sore from grasping onto the ropes for dear life. Gina and Oscar (who was driving) did their best to placate me with chocolate on the way back, and I have to say a lot of the time it was exhilirating, but it's definitely physically demanding work. Especially for a girl who spends most of her time firmly planted behind a computer. In the photos though I'm sure I have a big smile plastered across my face, I was so excited to actually be there. So was Yewon - in fact, she was so exhausted upon return that she's still asleep now, tucked up with a hot water bottle. I think I'm going to do the same myself!

This blog entry has been postponed due to extreme queasiness.

Meanwhile, here's a nice picture of myself, Yewon our cyberactivist, and Jim our Oceans Campaigner, doing the PR thing for a Korean newspaper.

Tomorrow you will be returned to your normal broadcast day.

Settling in and getting used to ship life. Mission number one is
getting the nautical lingo right. I have discovered my terminology is hopeless - I keep making the cardinal sins of calling a "porthole" a "window", the "heads" the "toilets", and I haven't even worked out what exactly "keelhauling" is. (All I know is, it's what happens to you if you don't crush and recycle your aluminium cans properly).

We've still been working exceptionally hard to make sure we're ready for anything before we leave port. One piece of news that made our hearts beat a little faster yesterday was a report of a tsunami warning from Japan, but it seems to have been lifted. That one made us run out of herbal "Relax" tea pretty fast.

The locals have been very welcoming, to the point that I think I might have a better inkling of how it feels to be some kind of B-Grade movie star who doesn't quite know how they got there or how exactly everyone knows who you are. (The good side is that I feel very tall, which is a relief after living in Holland for so long and feeling decidedly height-impaired).

We have also been popular with the kids - the Open Boats have seen
enthusiastic crowds of children having a whale of a time (pardon the
pun, I just couldn't resist it, promise it won't happen again, at least we got it out of the way early) being entertained by crew members. Phil, the bosun, and Neil, the radio operator, seem to have alter-egos as children's television presenters, demonstrating fire hoses, boat driving, clowning in wetsuits, and other essential ship skills for children. The kids just loved it. We also had a professor from a local organisation called Love Whales painting directly onto children's t-shirts as mementos of the day.

Last night Matilda, press officer extraordinaire, and I went to the
nearest convenience store (charmingly named "Sweet Buns") to stock up on ship essentials (including, but not limited to, copious amounts of
chocolate). The guy behind the counter shyly asked us where were from. "Australia and England," I said. "Green... peace?" he asked. I quickly inspected my clothing for any tell-tale Greenpeace logos but found none. Puzzled, I nodded. He immediately pulled out a digital camera and requested snapshots with us, and we succumbed to a surreal paparazzi experience in the middle of the snackfood aisle. I later found out that Phil, the outboard mechanic, had a similiar experience in the same store, and even received a gift-wrapped traditional Korean mask. It turns out that the Sweet Buns clerk is a Greenpeace member (and dare I say, fan) and had visited the Rainbow Warrior earlier in the day. It was very encouraging - so if you're reading this Sweet Buns clerk, thank you!

After our press conference on Friday, we have received some amazing
media coverage, splashed on the front pages of many of Korea's
newspapers and featured on tv news. However some of the media coverage hasn't been quite so flattering - namely the picture of our Oceans campaigner Jim that appeared in one of Korea's papers yesterday. (He's going to keelhaul me for mentioning it I'm sure).

Adele's nautical notes: keelhaul (v.) 1. historical - punish
(someone) by dragging them through the water from one side of a boat to the other, under the keel. 2. humourous (we hope) - punish or reprimand someone severely.

Slightly irrelevantly, I want to focus on an aspect of Korean culture that I found particularly fascinating. Korea has a reputation for being a technological powerhouse, and it certainly seems that technology companies have a finger in every pie here. The company LG, that most of us in the west associate with electronics such as video players, has been spotted here selling petrol. Hyundai has a department store. Electronics giant Samsung makes everything from high-tech mobile phones to women's cosmetics products. Here, pressing a traffic-light button produces voices that direct you to cross the road (or maybe it was to not cross the road, which would explain a lot). Mobile phones receive television as a standard feature. Laptops fit in your pocket.

But the night before we boarded the ship, I discovered the gadget of all gadgets, the one thing I thought couldn't be brought into the 21st century. I was wrong. It was the toilet.

Now I like to consider myself a woman of the world, but I'd never seen anything like the toilet in the motel we stayed in before we boarded the ship, so perhaps I will have to reassess this self-image. The Rainbow Warrior crew have just come from Japan and had seen similar, but previously I'd only seen anything like this on The Simpsons.

Basically, this thing had a control panel straight from Apollo 13. I admit I even took a photo. The panel, like an aeroplane armrest, was beautifully laid out with tiny icons illustrating the various ways in which you could erm, wash your bottom. It resembled a clothes washer with various cycles, speeds, rinses, and lots of coloured lights that don't really represent anything but assure you that something is actually happening and don't worry, the toilet knows exactly what it's doing.

After failing entirely to work out how to flush the toilet, which I thought would be a large red button somewhere or, at the very least, entirely automatic, I decided to apply my special technical knowledge which involves stabbing repeatedly at promising combinations of buttons until something happens. So I did. Immediately there was an efficient-sounding electronic whir and a pattern of lights moving up and down the console. I would not at this point have been at all surprised if the toilet had started talking to me or refashioned itself, Terminator-style, into a completely different object. As I leant on the toilet to peer in consternation at the buttons, I realised what it was the toilet was doing - warming the seat. Yes, you read right. Warming. The seat. Warming the seat. Personally I find warm toilet seats rather disconcerting, but this toilet was having none of my quibbles. Horrified at this use of electricity, I strongly considered unplugging the toilet and holding the cord up victoriously in the name of Greenpeace.

In any case, the toilet obviously had no intention of disrupting it's
important seat-warming duties to acknowledge my flustered
button-pressing, so I decided to reassert human superiority.
Unfortunately for me, this involved opening the lid and being squirted
with a stream of water (pleasantly warmed though, of course, and
probably scented for all I cared).

At this point, I gave up, and decided to leave the toilet to its own devices and go and have a shower which I figured could possibly require an advanced degree in electrical engineering to operate and therefore might take quite a while. But then I thought of it's smug little control panel blinking incomprensibly at me. I couldn't let it win.

Still bearing the marks of my battle (in other words, a little damp) I knocked on my colleagues' door. Dave (the Logistics coordinator) was on the floor, bent over a map and marking points with a compass. Jim (the Oceans campaigner) was on the bed typing in Dave's dictated figures. "Um ... guys..." I began. "I have a problem."

Jim looked up from his work and glanced at my damp shirt and pained expression. "Oh yeah," he said, if it was the most normal thing in the world. "I had the same problem. Button on the side." He went back to his typing without another word.

I had you now, toilet!! True to Jim's word, an old-fasioned, relatively speaking, silver button was protruding from the side of the water tank. I had to laugh as I exerted physical dominance over the toilet's electronic brain and heard the satisfying flush. There's something to be said for gadgets and automation but you know what? I think my ipod is as far as I'll go.

Here's a gallery of pictures from the R-dub's arrival in Korea from Adele. (Who is currently suffering from a bout of connectivitis -- a 28K dial-up line in a Korean YMCA!)

The broadcasting intern approached us shyly. "I feel so guilty," he said to our Oceans campaigner Jim Wickens, shaking his hand. "Last week I ate two pieces of whalemeat for the first time in my life. After hearing you today I will never eat it again." The journalist had just been at the Welcoming Ceremony and press conference for the Rainbow Warrior in South Korea, as we embark on our quest to save Korea’s whales. And what a warm welcome it was.

We are working with KFEM, the Korean Federation for Environmental Movement, to inspire the Korean public to pressure their government to protect whales. After many months of hard work, living by computer-screen light and sustained largely on a diet of hastily grabbed pizza, our day had finally come. It all seemed entirely worth it as the Korean percussion band started up and began welcoming a throng of journalists and children to Incheon Harbour, near Seoul, to see the iconic ship. We were overwhelmed with camera flashes and warm welcomes as a host of prominent Koreans, including Korean Environment Minister Mr Kwak Kyeoul Ho, wished us well.

A horde of incredibly gorgeous Korean kindergarten children sat cheerfully through the speeches and then excitedly presented the crew with a set of "Love Whales" t-shirts, yelling "Come Back Whales!" three times (we attempted to join in but they were far more coordinated than we were).

From portside we moved onto the ship. Despite an icy cold wind, a Buddhist monk and dancers, accompanied by traditional Korean musicians, then performed a ritual and gave offerings to whales, apologising for the harm that humans have inflicted upon them. The Warrior is still adorned with the three coloured ribbons representing people, fish and whales. The ritual involved traditional Korean food, which we all shared after the ceremony.

We could not have wished for a better start to the campaign. As one of the speakers today said, "I hope that when you leave here, you will carry wonderful memories of Korea with you." After today I think we will. We’ve already changed one mind in Korea, and we are working to change many many more.

-Adele

Well here we are in Seoul, I'm typing this from the offices of our Korean colleagues KFEM (Korean Federation for Environmental Movement) after gorging on a delicious spicy lunch of pickled cabbage and rice. But food aside, more important (well, at least as important) news: tomorrow is the spectacular welcoming ceremony for the Rainbow Warrior in Incho'n Harbour, so this is just a quick post with the details.

Open Boat in Inch'on Harbour


How to get there: take the subway to East Inchon Station, there will be shuttle buses every 30 minutes from the station to the Harbour.


Friday 18th March - Welcoming Ceremony for Rainbow Warrior. Ceremony starts at 11:00am, and tours of the ship start at 2:00pm after a traditional Korean lunch.


Saturday 19th March - tours from 10:00am - 5:00pm

Sunday 20th March - tours from 10:00am - 5:00pm

Monday 21st March - tours from 10:00am - 5:00pm

For more information (in Korean) see http://www.kfem.or.kr/home/whales/

That's all for now, a proper introduction tomorrow!

- Adele