Carnet de Voyage
NOMAD Industries & Tonton win best web series for EXPEDITION for the FUTURE at NUMIX 2013:
Un grand merci à Tonton pour avoir réalisé le site si bien si vite, et avoir inscris la série aux NUMIX. Vous êtes des kings!
Auteur: Jason Rodi
After my return from The EXPEDITION for the FUTURE, I presented some images of wildlife to my daughter’s daycare. Here is my collection of penguin, seal, and sea lion images from our time in South Georgia, Crozet, and Marion Island.
Auteur: Jason Rodi
I edited this last part from Costa Rica on the night of December 20th, uttering the last words: « This is the beginning » at midnight, as the 13th Baktun, the last cycle of the Mayan calendar, came to an end. Though I had planned to finish this story on this symbolic day, the strike of midnight was a most meaningful occurrence, much like the rest of this blessed journey. There are no more coincidences for me anymore, this is a synchronicity singularity. The future is here.
The EXPEDITION for the FUTURE concludes at the Cape of Good Hope.
This is a preliminary web series heading to television in 2013.
Gavin Bryars’ Last Hymn from The Sinking of the Titanic
The Naked and Famous’ The Source and The Sun from Passive Me, Aggressive You
and Mogwai’s own remix of Mogwai Fear Satan from Kicking a Dead Pig
Auteur: Jason Rodi
I was going through Amsterdam on my way home from The EXPEDITION for the FUTURE. In my bag was the only copy of the film, the testament to the epic journey that had taken me from the end to the beginning of human exploration, by way of the last place on this good Earth, Bouvetøya. It wasn’t only that I was carrying the entirety of a half million dollar project in my bag, but mostly it was the message that it held. After having climbed the highest mountain on every continent with my father, this final voyage had closed the loop that the first nomads opened in Africa, to as far as they could walk, the Southernmost point of South America. What I discovered along the way could only be described in the form of an image, that of the gateway I found at the Cape of Good Hope. The future in my hand, the entire story came clear to me then, in this European point of transit, neither here nor there. Amsterdam is the last place I filmed for the expedition for I knew that I had a movie. The loop was closed, the beginning was indeed the end.
For: Members of the Bouvetoya contingent
From: Bob Headland
The following illustration, from Chr Christensens Hvalfangstmuseum in Sandefjord, Norway, shows the first Norwegian flag deployed Bouvetoya and the hut ‘Villa Haapløs’ (Hopeless House). We know it was left on the island, and now we know it was made of metal. Bearing in mind the usual weather there this seems to have been a wise precaution.
Regards; and more after I return from the Arctic.
R. K. Headland,
Scott Polar Research Institute,
University of Cambridge,
United Kingdom, CB2 1ER.
« And It Fought To Escape » That is the name of the song by saxophonist Colin Stetson playing on this video.
Picture us fresh off the boat, and following our cinematographer Will’s friend to dive with sharks, near Cape Town. I never swam with sharks before, and considering I’d be in a cage, I enthusiastically jumped into the water and the first sight of a fin. The power and otherworldly wisdom of the beautiful beast was strange to witness. I knew it wouldn’t come for me, it had no business to and that was extremely comforting and an unexpected feeling.
As we headed to shore, already ecstatic, we were met by a bank of dolphins, hundreds of dolphins, as far as the eye could see. We followed them toward False Bay until we got a call from someone at the coast that a shark. There, fishermen had found a 15 year old Great White, a female, one of the last 3000 last Great Whites, caught in the net. Reluctantly, they gave us the shark and returned it to a marine biology lab near by.
What a strange way to end such a joyous day. As if we were being spoken to, led by a story so much larger than our own.
The following morning, as I walk toward the supermarket for some breakfast, Chakib has me notice a poster. Front page of the news paper, Great White Dies in False Bay. At the bay, posters were put up to warn tourists of sharks as if they were coming on our territory. The same thought I’d had earlier on my voyage resonates: We are the aliens. We are not from here.
I contacted a local television station and quickly brought them the footage, editing it in the cab. It was important to me to edit it myself so the right conclusions may be drawn from the footage. The fishermen, even if they came back after us after, trying to take the shark back, despite their having indirectly killed it, they were also victims in this story. Criminality is a result of poverty. We may add and strengthen laws for them not to fish in False Bay, but without other alternatives, for their own survival, they will keep fishing.
The name, False Bay, also sends strange echoes through this story. Probably something about our perception twisted to find the role of the villain, the fishermen for some, the shark for others. In the eyes of the fishermen yelling « I want my job » to us as we left with the best catch they may ever have, we, the supposed heroes of this story, were definitely the villains. Obviously, heroes are not a part of this story. We are but witness to a tragedy far greater than we can conceive, science fiction. We’ve colonized a planet, claimed it as our own.
Picture this for perspective: what if it was a human that had died that day, one of the last 3000? A woman.
Despite many diplomatic efforts, we were not able to get a permit to visit the Prince Edward Islands. While at first we were disappointed, the day went on to give us some incredible light on the hills, cliffs, and gorges. The birds, albatross and giant petrels, surrounded the ship.
Cindy gives an account of a waking dream she had while looking upon this lush beauty.
We lost our internet and satellite connection last week. It was a good week on board the Hanse Explorer, permitting us to find our new groove now that we were all by our lonesome. Here, Will Allen graces us with a lovely blues rift.
We crossed the meridian from West to East. Cindy’s been doing better, and doing good with recording how she’s feeling. In this video, we also cross an iceberg at sunset, which looks to me like drifting parts of what’s left of the world.
The day after we left Bouvet Island, as I was giving an interview for Quebec television, we witnessed some kind of lightning bolt about a kilometer away from the ship. There was another strike, slightly closer, then a final one that seemed to fall directly onto the ship. This was followed by some awful weather that hasn’t let up until now. After visiting the bridge for some information from Alan and Ali, both on watch, we found Cindy knocked out on deck. She didn’t remember what happened to her, not even going out on deck. Our best assumption is that she was hit by the lightning. The poor girl was stunned by the strange event, and while she suffered absolutely no injuries, her state of mind was certainly affected. Originally planning to shoot Cindy in a fictitious part of the film where she would be visiting us from the future, reality appeared stranger than fiction so I simply turned the camera towards her, and have since lent her a sound recorder for her to document her thoughts on a daily basis. Is it possible that we have been witness to another Vela Incident some 35 years later? You know I’d like to think so.