Photo Blog

Sketching the Murray

During a crossing of Australia on a skateboard back in 2006 I received a note from the illustrator Jules Faber. He included a little cartoon he’d made about my journey and I thought it was the coolest thing ever.

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A couple of years later Jules took it upon himself to join me for another journey, this time along the Murray River. Jules wasn’t actually there but every week he took the stories he’d seen me posting and sketched out a new cartoon.

Every so often I find the folder with these sketches and they make me laugh, smile and desperately want to learn that skill for myself. So here they all are, with a little back story to each….

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Jules with me, in spirit and with pencil, paddling along the Murray River.


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The first section of this journey was in the Snowy Mountains, on foot. I managed to get myself caught in a snowstorm and suffice it to say, those few days up top were uncomfortable and fairly cold. I was rescued by a wild horse, but let’s save that story for another day.

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Once in the kayak the weather was fairly damp for a couple of weeks. That combined with river life and a basic lack of outdoorsy skills meant my feet had a life of their own.

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I was joined at the start of the journey by Queenslander Peter Dowling, who I’d met a year earlier on my book tour around Australia. We developed a habit of getting caught in thunderstorms and only afterwards did Peter notice that his paddle was made of a conductive material.

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Let’s just say, the Murray flows through some remote spots…

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I was still a green adventurer and packed far more than I needed.

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What a treat to see Playpus in the wild, the only place where this is possible. They’re so playful, jumping clear out of the water right alongside the boat.

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The reason for shoes dangling from power lines will differ depending on who you ask. Whether they signal a nearby drug den or the outcome of the actions of a random dreamer, we’ll never know. But for sure, there are lots of shoes dangling around in Australia.

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I’m a child. Place names make me laugh and gladly Jules feels the same.

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One day I was paddling along minding my own business and saw this neck and head rising up from the Murray. It was utterly terrifying and could only be one thing, my fatigued mind told me. A serpent! The truth was possibly even more random, it was an emu going for a swim! When she ran up the opposite bank her fluffy body was saturated. Just wonderful.

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The biggest challenge of the journey: speed boats towing waters-kiers. Weekends were spent watching out for the water hoons who sometimes would actively try to capsize me.

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There were plenty of fine moments on the river though, including my 30th birthday, which I celebrated with a group of strangers who became friends on Lake Mulwala upstream of Yarrawonga.

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It wasn’t rare to see a skinny dipper or proud nudist on the banks.

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And to be fair, sometimes that was me at the end of a long, hot day.

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I paddled through a couple of bushfires, both times just in time to make it through before that section of the river was closed for a couple of days. Both spectacular and deeply sad to witness, these fires regularly taunted a river valley that had been in drought for a decade.

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I mentioned the speedboats and water-skis earlier. Well, one of the boats sped by within touching distance of me so I aimed my camera at them. I mean, it was about the only weapon I had. A couple of minutes later he same boat came back, this time towing a jet-skier who reached out and tried to grab the camera at high speed. I was quite angry.

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There were lots of spiders…

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Every few kilometres these blue and white signs signalled how many kilometres remained.

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So much kindness showed along the river. Surely one of the best nights was when Customs Houseboats let me stay. Sheer luxury! I slept well.

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It was Australia. It was hot. And as a side note, the drought meant that in most parts of the river I could have climbed out of the kayak and walked.

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Finally I made it to the Southern Ocean and had one more challenge, get over the first set of breakers to finally say hello to open water!

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The Murray was the beginning of a love affair with rivers that continues to this day. A couple of years later I’d be standing for a descent of the Mississippi, not on a raft but a paddleboard.

An image tells so many stories but in addition, the fact that Jules took time out from his own life to tell someone else’s story made a big impact on me. I know for sure that the kindness Jules and hundreds of others showed me as I snailed my way around our world led to my own little efforts like SayYesMore , @theyestribe , @theyesbus and other bits and bobs.

Just the smallest thoughtful act of kindness could make the world of difference for so many others. Be a pebble that creates some ripples. The world needs those little waves of change.


If you enjoy my stories and fancy saying thanks a really easy way is to Buy Me a Coffee.

I also have a membership where I send little treats, offer early access to content and generally get motivated to create more stuff that keeps people thinking and acting adventurously.


Three Days on the MS Spitsbergen

After several weeks exploring the Norwegian coast this Summer, following the Hurtigruten route between Kirkenes and Bergen in possibly the slowest fashion possible, last week I swapped my Schiller Bike for the comfort of Hurtigruten’s newest ship, the MS Spitsbergen.

The last (and only) time I had been onboard the Spitsbergen, I was being served the most bizarre meal of my life on the tender deck, one foot above sea level. That water bike drive-thru will remain one of the standout moments of a memorable journey, and apparently it had made an impact on the crew, as well.

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“I thought you looked familiar when you joined us last night,” a young waiter told me at dinner, “and the switch has just gone off. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Ah, the burger man!” Frederick, the Hotel Manager and the mind behind setting up the table for one, had chuckled as he bustled into the lounge with Sonny, the Bar Manager who had also been present on the tender deck two months earlier. And then Tommy, the chef who had presented me with that famous meal, turned up to say hi. 

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Although my water bike journey had been peppered by endless encounters with kind, welcoming Norwegians, the trip could not have been considered comfortable. So it was that as Hurtigruten’s ships passed daily, I had asked myself a regular question: would I prefer to be down here, or up there?

The answer varied, depending on the wind, current, rain or sun, and sometimes the time passed since my last shower. 

What I can say is that now, two months on with the fatigue of an attritional mission still present in my joints, it is a pleasure to be sailing north with a comfortable cabin nearby, three meals a day, and regular port stops which require no prior-thought on where to dock and safely leave my transport.

My personal Hurtigruten experience so far has been unusual, of course, but beyond appreciating the home comforts taking this more traditional route has just bolstered an opinion that this is just as much a family as a company. Hurtigruten don’t stress the ‘cruise’ element of their voyages along the Norwegian coast or, indeed, along their other routes which include Greenland, Alaska and Antarctica, but boy they do it well.

The ships are well conditioned and simple, with passenger experience at the fore of Hurtigruten’s mission. Most amenities are kept to the fifth floor on this ship, which keeps navigation simple, and with less than 300 passengers on board the atmosphere is intimate and familiar. 

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Various excursions and tours are available at the long-stops in port, or guests can choose to explore on their own. In Alesund I joined three Americans on a slippy ascent to the Aksla Viewpoint, which offers a gloriously snowy panorama over the town and its surrounding fjords and islands. 

At lunch the communal water dispenser has run dry and one of the kitchen staff must have noticed my fly-by. I’d diverted my attention to the buffet and returned to the table to find a full glass of water waiting. It’s the little things.

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Every couple of hours I wrap up warm and wander up on on deck, where a giant lit-up Christmas decoration welcomes those who are taking in the vast expanses. I study each stretch of water knowingly, once travelled at a little less than walking pace. The Norwegian winter comes with added bite, but an endless range of snow-capped mountains, glaciers and dark, wild fjords are no less impressive just because the nearest coffee is two flights of steps away.

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On Day Three we cross the Arctic Circle and the passengers are invited to the aft deck, where one member of crew is dressed as Neptune and two officers ‘welcome’ any willing passenger into the Arctic with a handsome delivery of ice cubes down the neck. The range of distinctly uncomfortable faces and accompanying shrieks are as entertaining as the line of volunteers is impressive.

I’m only on board for half of this voyage and am invited to give a presentation about my water biking exploits, the night before I disembark at the port of Bodø. While it is an opportunity to reminisce and prepare the story structure ahead of three weeks of book writing on the same topic, sharing tales from the coast is the ideal ice-breaker. The next morning a few people stop by around the ship, to say thanks and to share their own adventures. I make a point of asking them about their journey with Hurtigruten and the reaction is never ordinary. 

One lady stared out of the window at the painting-worthy scene and paused before whispering, “this has been a dream of mine for so long,” her eyes filling with tears. “It’s even more beautiful than I hoped,” she smiled shyly, embarrassed at her reaction.

Another man, a solo German named Joe who earlier told me that he has an addiction to mountain biking, perched in the jacuzzi at the ship’s stern wearing a contented smile beneath a grey beanie. “Does it get better than this?” he laughed, lifting his arms from the water and moving them simultaneously towards the horizon.

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Visit the Hurtigruten website to start dreaming about your perfect voyage


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Tribewanted Monestevole

A sprawling Umbrian countryside property, turned into the ultimate escape. Monestevole is a retreat, refuge and working farm and was the perfect venue for a weekend of mindfulness, hosted by SayYesMore. Over 20 YesTribers flew into Perugia and drove to Monestevole, where we enjoyed discussions, games, food and wine over a long weekend.

I arrived a couple of days before the group to capture Monestevole at its quietest. Feeding time for the animals, golden hour slowly revealing the house each morning (perfect for the drone) and then, when everyone had arrived, a weekend of smiles and chats. 

The Uganda Marathon: A Race Like No Other

In the Summer of 2016 the Uganda Marathon invited me to capture their groundbreaking annual event, set in the rolling hills of Masaka.

Over 150 people flew in not just to run the marathon, but to volunteer for four days at the community projects funded by the event. Having spent over a year in Uganda in my early twenties, it was wonderful to be back in the Pearl of Africa, surrounded by the joy and kindness of local Ugandans.

The resulting film and photos are among my favourite collections.

Dan Keeley finishes a run from Rome to London