 
# Adventures Underwater

**10 watery tales of excitement under the sea to whet**

your appetite for your own travel adventures.

by

Ian Usher

(Please Note: these stories are based on personal experience only, and do not constitute any form of advice. Please make your own decisions, and take responsibility for yourself. I take no responsibility for any travel "adventures" that may result from trying any similar activities.)

All material in this book is adapted from the book  
"A Life Sold" by Ian Usher  
or from the website  
www.100goals 100weeks.com

### Adventures Underwater

Ian Usher

Copyright 2012 by Ian Usher

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# Contents

Introduction

Christ of the Deep

Submarine

Manta rays

Black water night dive

Hammerhead sharks

Whales

Whalesharks

Underwater hotel

Christmas Island crabs

Shark cage dive

A Life Sold

Submit your own travel stories for publication...?

More adventure travel books

Excerpt from "A Life Sold"

# Introduction

Hi there.

My name is Ian Usher

In June 2008 I put my life in Perth, Australia, up for sale on eBay! "What will you do after you sell your life?" was one of the commonly-asked questions in many of the interviews I did in the run-up to the auction.

My eventual answer was to create a list of all the things I had ever wanted to do, places I wanted to see, and experiences I wanted to enjoy.

Between August 2008 and July 2010 I travelled the world, with a list of 100 goals, and a self-imposed timeframe of 100 weeks in which to attempt to achieve them.

This collection of stories and events is adapted from that journey, and gives an account of the underwater activities and adventures. My hope is that these tales serve in some small way to provide a little inspiration for you, if you have things that you would like to get out there and see or do.

My best single piece of advice for those looking for adventure, and in need of inspiration? Take the first step. Book your flight, order a book to research you plans, or invite a friend to join you. Whatever it takes to get you started. Because once you take that first step, it is a little easier to take the next step, whatever that may be. The third step is a little easier again, and so on. Just make a start, no matter how small.

There is much more detail on my travels and adventures, as well as a more personal insight into the joys and challenges of travelling for an extended period, in my book, available in both paperback and digital format for the Kindle and other mobile devices.

More details and links here:-

"A Life Sold – What ever happened to that guy who sold his whole life on eBay?"

There are also some other links at the end of this book, including an invite to submit your own tales of travel and adventure for potential inclusion in future similar publications, as well as details of other adventure travel books available from Wider Vision Publishing.

In return for this (hopefully!!) interesting, inspiring and informative content, I would ask one small favour. When you have finished reading I would be extremely grateful if you could take just a minute to provide a short, honest review for it at whatever location you downloaded it from.

Your support is much appreciated.

Happy travels,

Ian

# Christ of the Deep

Third goal completed! Cristo Degli Abyssi.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

From Chamonix we drove through the Mont Blanc Tunnel, 17 kilometres long, and came out on the other side in Italy. Another amazing feat of construction!

We arrived in Santa Margherita Ligure at about 5pm. I had imagined it would be a small quite fishing village nestled on the coast, with perhaps a few tourists wandering around. How wrong I was!

The place was absolutely packed! Cars, bikes, mopeds, cycles and pedestrians all jostled for space in the tiny streets. It seemed like chaos! We drove around for some time, but could not find a parking space anywhere. Every conceivable place to park a car was full, and a few more places too where I would not have thought you could even fit a car in. Every other space not big enough for a car was filled with mopeds and scooters.

We tried up a side street, which quickly turned into a twisting road up into the hills, far too narrow to turn around too come back down. We eventually found our way back to the coast, and finally found a space we could fit the car into. The guys we were parking in front of looked very nervous, and one chap actually came out of a shop to move his car a bit to avoid tragedy!

We went and introduced ourselves at the dive shop, and got directions to a campsite, which was apparently "almost full". When we arrived at "Miraflores Camp Site", hidden away in an industrial estate, they managed to cram us in on a gravelly patch down at the back of the park. Later that evening, despite being "full", we saw them manage to fit in four more tents and a huge caravan!

To say it was the worst campsite I have ever stayed at would be a major understatement. We were relieved of 22 Euros for a patch of gravel about ten metres from the freeway that ran alongside the campsite. We had to pay extra for a card to access a hot shower. The place was jam-packed full. And it was in the middle of an industrial estate. There was a small swimming pool, proudly advertising "Free Entry", but that was locked up before we even had our tent set up!

The only thing the place had going for it was its small restaurant - there was nowhere else to go - they had a captive audience! They did a pretty good pizza, and the wine by the carafe was very cheap. There was nothing else to do but hope that enough wine would help overcome the freeway noise!

We drank a fair amount, and actually started to find the whole campsite experience quite enjoyable - it was so bad it was good. After dinner we took a walk through the industrial estate, and admired the local petrol station, and then had an early night.

We were glad to pack up and leave early, and headed off to the dive shop. There we geared up and climbed aboard the boat, which took us along the beautiful mountainous coastline.

There was a bit of doubt among the dive crew about whether we would be able to do the dive that we wanted, because of sea and wind conditions, but we hassled them a bit, explaining that we had come to see the "Cristo Degli Abissi" statue, and no other dive would do.

When we got to the site conditions turned out to be fine, and the dive was on! We jumped in, and spent about forty minutes swimming around the coastline, ending up at the statue, which is in about ten metres of water.

It is quite breathtaking and beautiful, and it is very surreal to find it there in the depths, even when you know it is there.

I was very satisfied to see it at last. I first saw a picture of it in a diving magazine when I was a child, and thought, "One day I will go and see that!" Well, today was that day!

On the boat trip back I am sure I had a big smile on my face.

The dive company we went with were called DWS. Here are their details:-

DWS Diving

They were very laid back and friendly, and we reckoned that at 63 Euro, which included all gear, it was a pretty good deal.

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#  Submarine

Dive! Dive! Dive! Journey aboard Atlantis.

Monday, January 19, 2009

After my Captain Zodiac ride, I had an interview arranged with Karin, who has her own Hawaiian-based news website, Hawaii247, as well as often submitting articles for Associated Press. As we ate lunch and chatted, Karin told me that her father ran the submarine Atlantis, and although it was not quite a trip to the seabed to see the Titanic, she suggested that I might like to take a trip down.

So this morning I met with her father, Michael, operator of "Atlantis X" in Kona, number ten of a fleet of fifteen such subs worldwide.

I was running slightly late, and Michael and I headed quickly down to the pier, where we boarded the boat which would take us out to the sub.

Atlantis X is quite impressively large, with large viewing ports, and once seated, we went through dive procedures, and were soon underwater. We glided along the reef wall, and the knowledgeable guide pointed out all sorts of fish, coral, and other interesting features.

We got down to an impressive depth of 114 feet at the deepest part of the dive, which is deeper than most scuba divers ever get to, and could see that the water had filtered all of the colour out of the light, and everything appeared in a bluish monotone. The surface was no longer visible far above us.

The dive was over all too soon, and we resurfaced and were collected by the boat again.

Michael told me some pretty interesting facts. They have done over 32,000 dives with that particular submarine, and over 11 million dives worldwide, but as a new member of the submariners club, I had just joined a very exclusive one tenth of one percent of the world's population who have been down in a submarine.

Thanks to both Karin and Michael, and all at Atlantis Submarines for a fantastic voyage to the bottom of the sea (...well, not quite the bottom, but quite a way down, anyway!)

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# Manta rays

Goal 28 - amazing underwater ballet.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Almost seven years ago I took a trip up the west coast of Western Australia, only a couple of months after moving there from the UK. It is a beautiful stretch of coastline, and way up north there is a little place called Coral Bay. There it is possible to go diving with manta rays, but at the time our finances were pretty stretched, and we decided not to do the dive, and save our money to go whale shark watching instead. I have always wanted to do a dive with manta rays since then, and imagined it would happen on another trip up the west coast of Oz.

However, two people informed me of the possibility of manta ray diving here in Kona, on the Big Island. Kathy suggested it as a possibility, and Melissa sent me a link to Jack's Diving Locker, where she had done the manta dive a couple of times.

Jack's Diving Locker do a night dive with the manta rays, and I contacted them to book for Friday night, but unfortunately the weather prevented any diving that evening, and the trip was re-scheduled for Monday - last night!

The whole trip started just after lunch, when I went to the dive shop to get a lift out to the harbour. There we were all geared up, and around 4pm we headed out of the harbour, a little nervous as we had just seen a big swordfish towed in to be weighed with a couple of huge shark bites taken out of it!

The first dive was a daylight dive on the reef, and our guide Joe took our little group of six around and showed us all sorts of fish, and a couple of moray eels too.

After a quick bite to eat as the sun set we geared up again, with torches this time, and dived down to about 40 feet, and joined a circle of other divers on the bottom. We waited a while, and suddenly a manta gracefully swooped into the circle and swam around, feeding on the plankton drawn by the lights.

It wasn't a huge one, perhaps 8 feet from wingtip to wingtip, but it was so graceful and spectacular as it glided around the circle, swooping again and again right over the heads of those with the brightest torches.

I moved around the circle to join Keller, one of our group's instructors, as he had some very bright lights, and the amazing creature passed a couple of times less than a foot above us.

Eventually our circle broke up and set off to explore the reef, and towards the end of the dive there was only Joe, myself and Jason, one of the other customers left with air, and the manta rejoined the three of us. It swept by so close, and on one pass rubbed right across the top of my head.

On the surface Joe climbed aboard the boat, and the manta joined Jason and I again, right below us. We held together and shone our torches together to gather the plankton, and this amazing huge creature did beautiful back summersaults right below us, coming within inches as it turned over and over, like an incredible underwater ballet. I could have stayed for hours watching it, but we were eventually called in to the boat to head back to shore.

What an incredibly moving experience, to be so close to such a gentle giant. Thanks to all from Jack's Diving Locker, including the instructors and crew aboard the boat, Keller, Joe, Mungo and Bob. Also thanks to Harvey, who very kindly let me copy his underwater pictures from his rented camera – the underwater shot included here is his, not mine.

Note: Keller has a great video of the mantas in action on the Jack's Diving Locker webpage, although not from my evening with them:-

Jack's Diving Locker

What an evening... ah, but it wasn't over yet... to be continued...

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# Black water night dive

Pelagic Magic.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Pelagic: [pe•lag•ic]: adj. - Of, relating to, or living in open oceans or seas rather than waters adjacent to land or inland waters.

Magic: [maj•ik]: adj. - Mysteriously enchanting.

I had done a longish telephone interview with Carolyn, who writes for the West Hawaii Today newspaper, the previous day, but wasn't sure when the piece might appear. At lunchtime I discovered from three different sources simultaneously that I had made the front page!

Before heading to the dive shop for the manta ray dive, I had lunch in Lava Java, and checked my email, finding a link to the article from Carolyn. As I read the article online my phone rang - Matthew from Jack's Diving Locker - he had seen it in the newspaper. And as I chatted to Matthew on the phone, I saw the cafe waitress with the paper in her hand, looking at me and pointing at the picture there, silently mouthing, "Is that you?"

I took a look at the newspaper, and was very pleased to see that I shared the front page with Barrack Obama himself, on the day of his presidential inauguration!

Matthew had been intrigued by the piece, and of course had read that I was diving with them that evening. He told me that he had done much the same as me about four years ago when his marriage had failed, and gone travelling for seven months: "Best thing I ever did!" he told me.

He had talked to his boss Andy, and offered to take me on their Pelagic Magic dive, if Andy would allow him to. Andy said yes, and we arranged to meet at around 10pm, after the manta dive.

When I had initially gone into the dive shop last week, cameraman Steve had tried to convince me that the Pelagic dive was the dive to do in Hawaii. He was also keen to come along for the evening.

So I met up with Matthew and Steve at the boat, and after a quick briefing we headed out into darkness about three miles offshore. There they geared me up with a flashlight, clipped me onto a weighted line hanging fifty feet down into the dark waters, and asked if I was happy to head on down alone.

I'm afraid I couldn't back down from the challenge, and in I went, despite feeling quite apprehensive. It was very dark as I descended alone, and as I reached the bottom of the line, I looked up and could barely make out the boat far above. All around was completely black, and shining the light down between my feet showed nothing at all as far as I could see. I was very aware of the fact that there was about a mile deep of black water below me.

Occasionally I would see a small fish pass through the light far below, and it was very difficult not to let the imagination run wild. I was glad when Steve joined me with his camera.

There were some very unusual creatures to see, some very small, some a bit bigger, none of them like anything I have ever seen before! They were incredibly beautiful, and in the torchlight, lit up in the brightest iridescent colours.

We stayed down for as long as our air lasted, around 45 minutes, and eventually returned to the surface cold but elated at having experienced something so unique. It took me quite a while to get to sleep last night when they dropped me off at the backpacker hostel where I was staying for the night!

Thanks to both Matthew, for organising the dive, and to Steve, who takes all credit for the brilliant photograph included below. And thanks too to Andy of Jack's Diving Locker for allowing these guys to give me the opportunity to experience this unique dive.

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# Hammerhead sharks

Goal 33 glides into view - hammerhead sharks!

Thursday, February 5, 2009

I once saw a documentary about the Galapagos Islands, and was amazed by the huge schools of hammerhead sharks that gather there at certain times of the year. Without knowing any more details than this I added seeing this spectacle to my list of goals, and it duly became part of my list of 100 goals.

I received an email from Philip in mid-December, suggesting that I might be able to achieve this goal while in Japan, and I did some research. There are actually three major places in the world where these gatherings of hammerheads occur, the other two being the Caicos Islands in the West Indies, and at Yonaguni Island, here in Japan.

So with a week or so available in Japan after a bit of juggling around with dates and flights, I contacted Doug of Reef Encounters in Naha for further details. I managed to eventually arrange three days down in Yonaguni, which involves flying Tokyo to Naha, about three hours, Naha to Ishigaki, about an hour, and then a final half-hour hop to Yonaguni itself.

On the flight from Hawaii to Tokyo I had watched a fairly routine action movie, then as my second choice, I picked a documentary called "Sharkwater", which was fascinating. It isn't the usual sensationalist shark-attack frightener, but a well balanced telling of how illegal and uncontrolled long-line fishing in certain parts of the world is devastating shark populations, with potentially catastrophic environmental results.

One concern is that removing a top predator from a balanced eco-system means that species further down the food chain that can multiply unchecked, and if these are eaters of plankton, one of the major producers of oxygen on Earth, results could be disastrous.

The documentary showed the vast amounts of sharks, including hammerheads, killed each year in Caicos, simply for their fins, to make shark-fin soup. Often the fins and tail are cut off the shark while still alive, and it is simply tossed back in to the water.

Perhaps if this continues unchecked, there will soon be no more schools of hammerheads to come and see! Fortunately, in Japan, this is not currently a problem, and the sharks can gather here unmolested.

So after an overnight stop in Naha I flew first thing down to Ishigaki, and from there across to Yonaguni, which is the most westerly point of Japan, quite close to Taiwan.

It is a small island, and reminds me very much of some of the small islands I have visited in Thailand, but without the rampant backpacker tourism. It is quite tropical, but very run-down, and it really feels like being at the end of the line - there is only one flight in and out each day. I was met by Chia, on of the dive guides from Sawes Diving, and along with Akiko, another girl who had flown in on the same flight for a few days of diving too, was taken for a quick lunch before the afternoons diving began.

Our first dive was a reef dive to check we were both reasonably competent. We went out from the small harbour on the dive boat, and entered off the back, heading for the bottom pretty quickly as there is a strong current. We saw a turtle pretty much as soon as we entered the water, and a couple of eels, and a vast array of tropical reef fish as we drifted along with the current.

Our second dive was with a larger group, ten of us in total, looking for hammerheads, and we entered in deeper water, and swam down to about 15 metres, and hovered there drifting along with the current, looking around for shadows in the water. At first the bottom was not visible, and we just hovered in this complete blueness, but as it got slightly shallower I could just make out the seabed far below, perhaps another 30 metres or more down. We were drifting at quite a fast pace, I was surprised to see.

We looked around for a while, and Akiko and I spotted a hammerhead in the distance at the same time. It looked pretty big, but was a long way away, and it glided past and out of sight. I spotted it again a minute or so later, and it disappeared again. That was it for that dive, but I was very pleased to have seen one, at least.

After dinner I was dropped off at my accommodation, a small, backpacker-style guest house, and settled in for the night. I got chatting to some of the other guests, who turned out to be quite a large college group, and I spent a fun evening drinking beer and sake, and playing cards.

The next morning I was collected at 8am for the first dive, another deep water drift, which was uneventful for about twenty minutes, until I turned around, and right behind Akiko and I we spotted a group of five hammerheads, one pretty close. I had borrowed a camera for the dive, and managed to get one picture, the only one of a shark taken on that dive! I was very pleased, despite the slightly poor quality.

After lunch we went out again for two more dives, but the first was very uneventful, with no sharks being spotted at all. The last dive of the day was much more exciting, however. A couple of minutes after dropping in I spotted several of the group turn and head off to the right at speed, and when I turned there was a large group of hammerheads just disappearing into the shadows. Later Chie, who had spotted them before me, estimated that there were about thirty of them.

A minute or so later Chie spotted one shark returning, and pointed it out to me. We were on the right of the group, and the shark was over to our right, approaching us slowly. I had the camera set for video, and started filming and swam towards it. It passed pretty close in front of me slowly, and as I got closer it turned and casually swam away.

They really are pretty shy, and seem to keep their distance, and it is awesome to see them so close. There is no fear involved, despite their size, as they are so wary around divers.

What an excellent dive! Take a look at some video from my hammerhead shark dives here:-

Hammerhead Sharks Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZT1jtDMqno

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# Whales

Goal 35 - Thar she blows!

Saturday, February 7, 2009

I flew back from Yonaguni via Ishigaki once again, and was picked up at the airport in Naha by Miho, Doug's diving shop business partner. We went past the dive shop to say a quick hello to Jim, the business photographer, and then Miho dropped me off at Doug's apartment, the spare bedroom of which Doug had kindly offered for my visit. I got myself organised, and wrote up my hammerheads blog and went for a wander around, and to see if I could find an internet connection.

Doug lives pretty close to the ocean in an area to the north of Naha called Sunabe. He is also close to one of the US airforce bases here, and I was amazed by the amount of aircraft flying in to land and taking off from the base. It is pretty much non-stop. Apparently rents are cheaper the nearer you get to the base. No wonder, the noise from the fighters taking off is pretty loud.

Down at the seafront I saw quite a few people with cameras with huge lenses on. Doug later explained that the relatively new F-22 fighter plane was flying in and out of the base, and there was a high demand for pictures of it for military enthusiast publications. "Of course, there's also the Korean and Chinese spies down there taking snaps too!" he told me.

Doug runs Reef Encounters, and I had contacted him after an email tip from Philip in December about the hammerhead sharks in Yonaguni. Doug arranged the trip down to Yonaguni for me, then said on the way back through Naha, if I wanted to try to swim with whales, he would try to help, as it is currently humpback season in Okinawa.

The next morning we were up early, geared out with full diving equipment, and headed down to the harbour. Once aboard Reef Encounter's boat Doug steered us out offshore, and Miho suggested we should gear up in our snorkel equipment, as we were approaching a popular whale spot. On deck, Casey was already prepared, and Mike and I put our gear on as Jim fiddled with his camera. Jim would be trying to get pictures of any or all of us with a whale if at all possible.

Doug soon spotted a whale, and brought us onto what we hoped was it's course, and we dropped into the water, and finned like mad to where we hoped we might see it.

I ran into problems immediately, as when I cleared my snorkel and took a breath in I got a huge mouthful of seawater. I tried clearing it again, and the same thing happened again. I was a bit more careful to avoid taking too big a breath the third time I tried, and it was pretty clear the snorkel was broken, taking in water at it's base.

Nobody saw the whale, and we all climbed back aboard for another try. The second time the whale surfaced not far in front of the boat, and kitted out with a fresh snorkel I jumped in again, and we all finned like mad, but only Casey reported seeing the tail in the distance. I was starting to think this was going to be a tough, exhausting day.

Back aboard the boat we trolled along slowly, and suddenly there was the whale again, about twenty yards away from the back corner of the boat. We all dropped over the side, and I turned around in the water waiting for the bubbles to disappear, and I imagine my eyes opened wide in utter disbelief.

The whale was right there! It was right in front of us, no more than ten yards away! It was incredible! And she had a calf with her too! We swam towards them slowly, and I could see Jim just in front of me taking pictures. I swam around him, getting closer to the whales, and watched astonished as the mother rolled onto her side, putting herself between me and the calf, and looked right at me. I could see her huge eye, and could actually see it flicking from me to Mike beside me, then back again.

They swam in a lazy circle around us, seeming to be as interested in us as we were in them, and I managed to get within three or four metres of them. Every now and then, as I got a bit too close, the mother would curve her huge tail towards us, in what I took as a fairly obvious warning, and I backed away a bit. She kept the calf shielded from us most of the time, either keeping herself between us and the youngster, or keeping it down below her.

At one point I was so close that with a couple of fin kicks I could have probably touched the tip of her pectoral fin, but heeded Jim's earlier warning that mothers with a calf tend to be very defensive, and therefore potentially dangerous, and so I kept at a sensible distance.

We watched for a few minutes, as we all went around and around. I reckon the baby would have been about nine feet long, the mother maybe twenty to twenty-five feet long. She had barnacles on the fins and tail, and quite a group of remora sucker fish with her. She was so impressive to see.

It was one of the most incredible moments of my life, and I tried to take it all in. Eventually mum had seen enough of us, and took a straight course, and with a bigger sweep of her tail picked up some speed. I finned hard to try to keep up, but they soon disappeared into the blue distance.

I climbed aboard the boat absolutely speechless, and Miho said, "Let me get a picture - look at your face!" We were all very excited, and Jim took a look at the pictures on his camera, and looked very satisfied.

The awesome pictures included here are credited to Jim. That's me right there with the whales - amazing!!

###

We tried again, but I think she had had enough of us, and proved to be very elusive, and so completely satisfied that we could not possibly have a better encounter, we headed off to go diving.

The dive site we went to was fascinating too. Okinawa saw alot of action during WWII, and we moored just above a reef off one of the main beaches where the US troops had made a first landing. The previous day the military had just detonated a WWII mine that Doug and his team had found not long before on the seabed. Doug and Jim were keen to take a look at the site where the mine had just been detonated and along with us was Take, to document the damage done to marine life for a TV show.

We descended to the reef, which sadly was littered with dead fish, unfortunate victims of a left-over from sixty-five years ago. Very early on Take found a piece of the body of the mine, all ripped and twisted out of shape by the blast. Remnants from the war littered the seabed, and Jim had warned me not to touch anything at all, as there could still be live munitions down there. One interesting find was a group of four Coke bottles, date stamped 1944, presumably tossed off the back of some US battleship, last handled by a wartime sailor all those years ago.

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# Whalesharks

Heading north to see the whalesharks.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

My trip northwards to Exmouth to swim with the whalesharks has taken a bit of organising, but in the last few days the hard work paid off and things finally fell into place just in the nick of time.

Because Perth to Exmouth isn't one of the major air routes, there is only one airline that provides a service, and prices can therefore be pretty expensive, particularly when compared to flying longer distances to Melbourne or Sydney, for example, where there is more competition.

I was lucky to find a flight back from Exmouth at around the right time at a reasonable price, but as I tried to organise other parts of the trip to coincide, prices for that flight increased, and I went ahead and booked it before it went any higher. But all flights heading northwards were almost double the price, and I searched for an alternative.

I rang all the car hire places in Exmouth, and asked if any of them had a vehicle in Perth that needed relocating back up to Exmouth. A day or so later Rowan from Allen's car Hire contacted me, and we worked out a great deal for me to bring a small Hyundai Xcel up from Perth.

So after some hasty packing, including an old bicycle I had lying around gathering cobwebs, I made an early start yesterday morning, and drove out of Perth on the Great Northern Highway. It doesn't take long to get out into the countryside, and 400 empty kilometres later I arrived in Geraldton at around lunch time. I stopped briefly to refuel, and after a quick bite to eat, I pushed on again.

I almost made it to Carnarvon, which is about 900km from Perth, but a glance at the map confirmed that I would not make it before dark, and I noticed that there was a free beach camp just off to the west of the main highway, about 40km south of town. I decided to play it safe, and stop before dark, and was glad I did, as the camp spot was lovely.

My decision to stop was prompted mainly by the huge amount of kangaroo carcasses littering the roadside. Many are pretty fresh and recent, some are just skeletal remains. They are a big problem on country roads, and tend to be most active around dusk as the day cools down, and through the night. Most people who have to travel in darkness have roo bars on the front of their vehicles to protect them from damage, as an impact with a big roo can be devastating for both vehicle and occupants, as well as to the roo itself, of course!!!

This morning I was up at first light and on the road not long after sunrise. I was glad I had stopped early the night before, as there were quite a few new offerings in the middle of the road, already being attended to by the crows and the huge wedge-tailed eagles.

I crossed over the Tropic Of Capricorn, but the scenery looked anything but tropical, as the desert shrubs got smaller and smaller, and the huge termite mounds dominated the landscape in their thousands.

I detoured off the main highway to stop briefly at the lovely Coral Bay, with its beautiful beach and crystal clear water. I couldn't resist a quick snorkel, and was amazed by the variety and size of some of the fish just offshore.

I made it to Exmouth around lunchtime and went to see the whaleshark tour operator to confirm my booking for tomorrow, and then got my tent set up at the caravan and camp park, and settled in, sorting out the mess of gear that had developed in the little car. My final job for the day was to drop off the dusty car with Rowan, where I re-assembled my bike and cycled back to my camp ground, just in time for a quick swim in the pool as the sun set.

I really enjoyed the two day trip up here. It was great to be travelling again on a long journey, sometimes with some good music on the stereo, sometimes just my own thoughts to keep me company, a big cup of hot coffee from the last service station on my lap, and the open road and exciting new adventures ahead.

Goal 42 - gentle giants.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

I was up before the sun rose again this morning, and prepared for an early pick up to go on a whaleshark tour. A couple of weeks ago I had emailed all of the whaleshark tour operators in Exmouth, explaining what I am doing, and that one of my goals is to see a big whaleshark.

I was surprised to only hear back from two of the six Exmouth-based operators, and can only imagine that they are all fully booked and need no further customers this season! However, I did hear from Kat, who is manager of Ningaloo Blue, and she said she would be happy to book me on one of their tours, and would happily offer a repeat option if a big whaleshark was not spotted. She was very helpful, and enthusiastic to help out in any way she could with my goals, and so I had no hesitation in choosing to book my day with her.

I was picked up at the entrance to the caravan park, along with Stony, who was on the same tour. Along with a group of about 15 others we were driven about 30 kilometres to the boat launch point around the cape, and ferried out to the big boat via a small zodiac inflatable.

After an initial snorkel practice on a shallow reef we headed out to the deeper waters outside the main reef, and awaited sightings from the spotter plane, which started it's work at 10am. The small plane works for all of the tour operators, and once a whaleshark is spotted all the boats in the vicinity get to share time with the creature in the water.

We didn't have to wait for long before the first whaleshark of the day was spotted by the plane, and we raced off to find it. Two other boats were already there, and as we approached the plane spotted another, and we were off again, being the first boat to meet this one.

Whalesharks are not related to whales at all, but are fish, and breathe through gills like any other fish do. They are the largest species of fish in the world, and regularly grow to lengths of 12 metres or more. They are filter feeders, eating plankton by swimming along with their mouths open, filtering the tiny creatures from the water as they go. They are known as gentle giants, and are very tolerant of swimmers in the water with them.

As the whaleshark approached we quickly geared up in our snorkel gear and jumped in. It was very exciting waiting in the water knowing this huge thing was heading our way. And suddenly there it was!! It wasn't a fully grown one, but was still over 6 metre long, and very impressive as it swam straight towards us. We got out of its way, and then swam along beside it. It was quite an incredible and breath-taking sight.

After a hundred metres or so our group stopped, and the second group jumped in the water to meet the huge creature as it continued on towards them, and the boat then picked our group up. This continued for a while as the shark continued on its course, seemingly oblivious to the excitement around it. We got to swim with it three or four times before taking a break.

After a morning snack, we swam with the same shark again a couple more times, and then a smaller one was spotted nearby, and we heade3d of to see that one. It was still an impressive 4 metres long, and was much more curious that the bigger one.

Our second group was first in the water this time, and I climbed up to the bridge of the boat to see if I could get a picture of the shark in the water. All aboard were amazed as the whaleshark headed directly for the back of the boat, through the group of swimmers in the water, and came to within a metre of the back of the boat. It was like a scene out of "Jaws", but without any of the fear of being eaten!

I got to swim with the smaller shark soon afterwards, which was travelling fairly quickly, and was pleased to be one of only a couple of us who managed to keep up.

Some more snorkelling after a big lunch was an ideal conclusion to an awesome day. My huge thanks to Kat at Ningaloo Blue for making this happen for me, and to all aboard who made it such a great day. And cheers to Stony and family too for the celebratory beers afterwards, very much appreciated indeed.

Although I did not quite get to see the 10 metre plus whaleshark I had hoped to, I certainly feel that I can call this goals complete, as I got to spend quite a bit of time in very close proximity to the biggest fish I have ever seen in my entire life. Fantastic!

More whalesharks.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

After my fantastic day swimming with the whalesharks I had a couple of days to relax around Exmouth, and spent quite a bit of time reading by the caravan park swimming pool.

Mel had decided that she did not want to miss out on the chance to see whalesharks, and had booked a flight up from Perth on Saturday morning, and I had made a booking with Kat at Ningaloo Blue for her for Sunday. Kat offered me the opportunity to go out again, as there was a spare place on the boat, and I jumped at the chance.

So at 7.30am we were outside the front of the caravan park, and were picked up for another glorious sunny day aboard "Venture IV".

After the early snorkel, it took a while for the spotter plane to find any whalesharks, and everyone relaxed on the boat, until just before lunch the first shark was spotted.

Things got pretty hectic from then, and we were in and out the water quite a few times, as a second and then third shark appeared, all pretty close by.

Having seen a couple of whalesharks only a few days before did not lessen the impact of seeing them again, and it is amazing to jump off the back of the boat, and wait suspended in the water, staring into the blue distance trying to get a first glimpse of the giant that you know is heading towards you.

Brad, the skipper of the boat did an awesome job, and dropped us directly in the track of the shark pretty-much every time, and when it appears at the limits of your visibility, heading straight towards you, it really does take your breath away.

There is a sudden flurry and thrashing of fins, as everyone hurries to get out of the incredible creature's path, and jockey for best position to view it as you swim alongside it.

We saw a couple of smaller sharks later in the day, but the first one we saw was about 6 metres long, and was stunning to see coming straight towards you!

Once again, huge thanks to Kat and the rest of the fantastic team at Ningaloo Blue, for helping to make this such a wonderful experience.

More info on whalesharks and whaleshark conservation at:

http://www.whaleshark.org

The following pic is courtesy of "V", the videographer who worked on the boat for both of my trips - she took some awesome video. The picture is a screen capture from the DVD, hence the slightly poor quality, but I think it does a wonderful job of capturing the size and majesty of these amazing fish. Look at the size of the snorkellers in the background!!

Click here to return to Table of Contents

* * *

# Underwater hotel

Goal 51 - 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Well, it wasn't quite 20,000 leagues, more like 20 feet under the sea, but it was still a boyhood dream come true.

Nancy gave me a quick tour around Fort Lauderdale yesterday morning, and then dropped me off to collect my car. It took me a couple of hours to drive down to Key Largo, where I soon found Jules' Undersea Lodge, just off the main highway. After some brief paperwork, I was ready to go, and geared up with scuba equipment. No wetsuit would be required, as the water was almost as warm as bathwater.

My instructor/hotel guide Jason showed me the surface control room and explained the communication systems with the lodge below. He put the belongings I would need down below into a small waterproof case, and we entered the lagoon.

I spent twenty minutes or so exploring the area, while Jason prepared the hotel, and unpacked my gear down there. Eventually I made my way through the rather murky water to the hotel itself, and swimming below it, came up into the wet room via the moon-pool entrance. It was a very atmospheric moment, something I had imagined doing for such a long time.

After Jason gave me a quick tour, he left me alone and I was free to explore, rather like an excited child! The place was great, an odd mixture of old, practical functionality, and modern comfort.

It was originally built as a research station, and was used as such between 1972 and 1975, and then in the early 80s was converted to it's current use. Just under the veneer of comfortable hotel, in many of the cupboards I looked in there are valves and pipes and pumps all humming and buzzing away.

I made myself comfortable, and at 6pm Jason brought dinner down, again in a watertight case, and made the final preparations in the microwave in the small kitchen. It was all quite a bizarre experience. He then left, and I started watching an entertainingly terrible underwater movie called "Leviathan", where the inhabitants of an underwater mining base are troubled with alien issues.

Once dinner had settled, I geared up and went for a dive in the lagoon. Once again it was wonderful to exit through the moon-pool and already be at a depth of 20 feet. I spent some time examining the hotel itself, fascinated by the structure. It is quite impressively big outside, compared to the smaller space inside, but was built with all sorts of ballast tanks, so it could originally be floated into place, then the tanks flooded to sink it into position, much like a submarine. It is quite an extraordinary feat of engineering.

Later, when it went dark, I went out for a second dive in the now very gloomy and eerie lagoon. Jason had told me that a couple of nurse sharks sometimes came in at night to sleep under one of the piers, but I couldn't find them. I followed a lobster around the seabed for a while, and got pretty disorientated, and then made my way back "home".

I slept really well, and woke in the morning just as the large bedroom porthole window was beginning to lighten. I helped myself to breakfast and coffee in the small but well organised kitchen, and Jason gave me a call to come and collect me.

I had been living under the sea for around 18 hours, and as I surfaced, I wished it could have been much longer. It was so atmospheric, and so unique.

Many thanks to Jason and Debbie at Jules' Lodge for such a great experience, and thanks also to my surface support crew members Cari and Nancy for helping make this long-held dream come true.

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* * *

# Christmas Island crabs

Christmas Island diving.

Friday, December 11, 2009

I had to move house earlier this week, as my couchsurfing host Braydon had his landlord moving into the room I was using. However Claire, Braydon's work colleague, herself a brand new couchsurfing host, offered me her spare room, so on Tuesday afternoon, after a snorkel down at the cove, I moved house.

I have spent a couple of very relaxing days reading, writing, watching movies, and wandering about the island in the cooler hours of the day. Claire took me to see The Blowholes after work on Wednesday, where, when there is a swell, water is forced up through cracks in the limestone, and shoots spectacularly skywards. The roads on the way were covered in crabs, most laden with young, and we had to be very careful not to run over any of them.

Yesterday, along with Meryl, we went to Lily Beach, and then up to the awesome Golf Course Lookout. Here, high on the cliffs above the golf course in the late afternoon all the fishing birds are returning from their day out at sea, and using the cliff up-draughts, glide serenely upwards from down below. I could have sat here for hours watching them, but we had a radio show to go to.

Kent, another of the National Parks crew here, has a weekly two-hour chat and music slot on a Thursday evening, and armed with beer and food, we made our way to the studio. Meryl had a bit of a chat on-air with Kent, and then I somehow found myself in the chair with headphones on. It is the first radio interview I have done with a beer in my hand - all very relaxed, Christmas Island-style, and great fun.

This morning was an early start though, as it was the first possible day for the female crabs to spawn, and drop their eggs in the sea. I had the chance to go out on one of the dive boats, and possibly see this from the sea, and so was up at 3.30am, and headed down to the dive shop.

We were out on the water before it got light, and the sea cliffs were covered in crabs, some dropping their young, some not. The first dive of the day was a slow drift under the cliffs, and out over the dark blue drop-off, where the steep wall drops down to around five kilometres deep. There are some incredible corals to see. Nearer to the cliffs we could get up close to the crabs that had come down to the water.

The second dive however, was the highlight of the day. The location is home to hundreds of batfish, which are quite curious, and follow the divers around for much of the dive. We saw a big moray eel, a couple of large rays, and best of all, just as we surfaced at the end of the dive, a cry went up from the boat, "Whaleshark! Coming your way right now!"

I swan towards where they were pointing, and the huge mouth was the first thing I saw, heading straight for me. It must have been 7 or 8 metres long! It swam right towards me without changing course at all, and passed so close. I have some video of it, which I will put together with some other Christmas Island footage over the next day or two. Awesome!

Christmas Island Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SD0V-8AaMo

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* * *

# Shark cage dive

Goal 71 - A murky glimpse of "Jaws"!

Thursday, January 7, 2010

The next morning we visited Drakenstein Correctional Centre, previously known as Victor Verster Prison, where twenty years ago, on 11th February 1990, Nelson Mandela took his long walk to freedom when he was released, after 27 years of incaceration in South Africa's prison system.

It is a low security place, and looked more like a holiday camp with orange uniforms than anything else. Somehow we managed to talk our way in at the gatehouse, and ended up in the prison restaurant for breakfast, which was interesting and unusual.

There is a statue of Nelson Mandela at the gates, and I liked his words, printed on the plinth below:-

For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.

The true test of our devotion to freedom is just beginning.

I have walked that long road to freedom. I have tried not to falter, I have made missteps along the way. But I have discovered the secret that after climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb.

I have taken a moment here to rest, to steal a view of the glorious vista that surrounds me, to look back on the distance I have come. But I can rest only for a moment, for with freedom comes responsibilities, and I dare not linger, for my long walk is not yet ended.

We drove on into Franschhoek, which has a huge amount of wineries, and stopped at a few places to try some samples. It is so much like the wine areas around Perth in Australia, and if it wasn't for the mountainous backdrop, I could have believed I was back in the Swan Valley.

The southern coast is lovely, and we stopped at various towns and villages along our route to Hermanus, where we stayed at the backpacker hostel for the night. They were offering a great deal on shark cage dive excursions, which included a free night at the hostel, and a much cheaper tour than I had found anywhere else.

We were up at 5am the next morning, and drove to the "shark-central" town of Gansbaai, where we were relieved of our money by a surly shark dive leader. I never did find out his name, as he never introduced himself, and didn't bother interacting enough, other than the swift financial transaction, for me to be interested enough to ask!

Down at the harbour our boat was lowered into the water, and we were off by 7am. At the shark site the worryingly small cage was prepared, and we got an overview of how the morning would work. The water clarity was poor, and the surly operator voiced doubts about whether we would see anything at all today. He wasn't quite as vague on the "no refund" policy though!

However, we soon got a tantalising view of a shark on the surface as the blood-and-guts mix of chum was thrown into the water. The surly operator seemed slightly happier, as everyone had now seen a shark, and any chance of any sort of complaint, or refund request had been completely negated.

We quickly donned wetsuits, and I was swift enough to be second into the cage, soon followed by Martin. (Rachel had stayed ashore, already asleep again in the car before we had even boarded the boat, having been very clear about her complete lack of interest in seeing any sharks at all.) There was another shark which swam passed the cage, and I managed to get one gloomy picture.

We then waited for quite some time, as people got in and out of the cage. Some didn't bother at all, a few only lasted a couple of minutes, as it was quite cold, but Martin and I remained in, determined to see more.

The next shark bashed right up against the cage, and as it's tail thrashed right in front of me, the bottom part of it hit my wrist, and I became the only person on our trip to touch one of the sharks! You are not allowed to do so unless a fin or tail pokes through the bars and you can't avoid it!

There were more sharks, or maybe it was the same one, I don't know, as it was impossible to tell in the murky water, and an estimate from up on deck, where they could see them a bit better was that they were between two and a half to three and a half metres long.

Eventually I gave up on trying to get any sort of decent underwater picture, and enjoyed watching from surface level as a shark, attracted by the big fish-head on the yellow rope, swam past just a metre or two away.

It was a great experience to be in the water, right there with such magnificent creatures, but quite safe and secure. I was a little disappointed with the visibility, but of course that is the nature of any of these wild encounters, sometimes conditions are fantastic, sometimes not so good. It is always too easy too look at the amazing National Geographic/Discovery Channel pictures and videos of such encounters, and hope for something like that, but it is important to remember that they may have had to spend months or years to capture such amazing images.

I thoroughly enjoyed the cage experience, but in what is probably going to be my first negative review of pretty-much anything in my 100 weeks journey, I have to make some comments on the company we went out with. Unfortunately, I felt that we were treated merely as a revenue source by the uncommunicative, uninformative operator. For a company that sells itself as an "eco-tour operator", there was not one word about the sharks' habits or life. I would have liked to see some sort of video intro, a bit of shark natural history, and some talk about the huge misunderstandings, and some de-mystification of the fears that people generally have about sharks.

What did we get? Nothing!! "Everyone has seen a shark now, so there should be no question of a refund!"

My advice, if wanting to go shark diving, try an alternative operator to White Shark Ecoventures!!

###

Click here to return to Table of Contents

* * *

# A LIFE SOLD

What ever happened to that guy who

sold his whole life on eBay?

What on earth would make someone decide to put their whole life up for sale... on eBay?

When Ian Usher decided that it was time to leave the past behind and move on to the next chapter of his life, that is exactly what he did. The results were surprising, entertaining and challenging.

However, the auction was only the beginning of the adventure. What does someone do when they have sold their life? Well, just about anything they like really!

Armed with a list of 100 lifetime goals, and a self-imposed timeframe of 100 weeks, Ian embarked on what could truly be described as the journey of a lifetime – a global adventure spanning six continents, two years, and almost every emotion.

From the amazing highs of achievement, happiness and love, to the terrible lows of disappointment, loneliness and despair, come along and enjoy the rollercoaster ride of life, as experienced by one traveller who is simply looking for a new start.

Review for "A Life Sold" by "RunsWithScissors" on Amazon.com:-

"I sat down to read this book thinking I would just start it, but could not put it down! I read the entire book in one sitting. When I was done, I felt that I had traveled around the world with Ian, and was better for it. I cheered with him, cried with him, and relived the joy of healing from a broken heart. I was inspired. The book is framed around Ian's goals, but really it's about so much more. The very thing that catapulted Ian into action worldwide is what brought him such joy in the end, with a hell of a journey along the way.

The writing flows well, is accessible and enjoyable with just enough detail. I felt I was along for the ride, and was welcomed to join in the fun, just as Ian so freely shared his goals with so many others. The goals are interesting and enjoyable, and the people Ian meets are just as much fun as the goals. I felt I shared parts of my bucket list with Ian, and although he beat me to it, his accounts invite me to feel heroic and relaxed enough to follow. (Except, I'll never run with the bulls!) There are lots of good travel tips. The book reads in parts like a helpful TripTik, and is very informative about details that matter.

The book reminds us that life is not as much about the destination as it is about the journey, that we are all more alike than different, and that anything done with good intentions and an open heart can't be wrong. Oh, and there's a very happy ending. Expect tears again. It's a good thing."

Review for "A Life Sold" by "theglobalguy" on Amazon.com:-

"I met Ian in Nepal when he and I happened to be on the same trek to Everest Base Camp. I had a vague recollection of the story of the guy who put his entire life up on E-bay, and was amazed at the coincidence that would bring that guy into my own life. Ian was a joy to travel with, and his stories of his adventures kept me laughing and entertained through our two week journey. When he told me that he was thinking of turning the entire adventure into a book, I couldn't wait to read it. Well, now that the book is published, I'm pleased to have been able to finally read about his back story, previous adventures, and the events that followed his and my adventure together.

The book is well written, with a combination of blog entries and personal narration. Switching between the styles is easy on the brain, and never feels disruptive to the narrative. His writing is laid back, funny, and very personal at times. This is a person who has had more than his share of personal challenges, and been able to find the good in everything. It's a great testimony to the human spirit, and the tendency of humankind to help a traveler, no matter where he hails from."

You can read an excerpt from "A Life Sold" at the end of this eBook by clicking here.

# Submit your own travels stories for publication...?

Well, I hope you enjoyed these airborne tales. They are all taken from my two-year, round-the-world, goal-achieving adventure, chronicled in the book "A Life Sold". If you want to read more about my adventures, as well as the other, less adrenaline-fuelled goals, I suggest you take a look at the book. The book also tells the much more personal story of what prompted this radical adventure, and where the adventure eventually took me.

If you have any amazing travel tales of your own, please feel free to email them to me. I am currently working on the next edition in the "Amazing Travel Experiences" series of books, which will be an anthology of tales from other travellers.

YOUR AMAZING TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

Do you have any travel stories or adventures you would like to see published in future releases?

Further info here:

Your Amazing Travel Experiences

If you have any questions, or stories to submit, please get in touch by using the Wider Vision Publishing Contact form.

I hope your adventures and travels are as amazing and rewarding as mine were.

Happy travels,

Ian

# More adventure travel books

If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com, or to your favourite online book retailer for more books from Wider Vision Publishing.

ADVENTURE TRAVEL

16 stories from a world traveller hoping to provide little

inspiration for your next travel adventure.

MORE ADVENTURE TRAVELS

11 more stories of worldwide adventure to further

inspire you towards your own travel goals

ADVENTURES IN THE AIR

14 high-flying tales of airborne adventure to inspire

your travelling spirit to soar.

ADVENTURES UNDERWATER

10 watery tales of excitement under the sea to whet

your appetite for your own travel adventures.

AMAZING TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

15 more stories from one world traveller hoping to provide little

inspiration for your next travel adventure.

MORE AMAZING TRAVEL EXPRIENCES

13 more globe-trotting travel stories to inspire

you to kick-start your own adventure

TRAVEL TIPS

17 travel tips to help you save money, and make your

next adventure less stressful and more enjoyable.

and COMING SOON from Wider Vision Publishing:-

YOUR AMAZING TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

Do you have any travel stories or adventures you

would like to see published in future releases?

More info here:-

Submit your own travel stories for publication...?

A polite reminder:-

In return for this (hopefully!!) interesting, inspiring and informative content, I would ask one small favour. If you have enjoyed this Kindle book I would be extremely grateful if you could take just a minute to provide a short, honest review for it at whatever location you downloaded it from.

Once again, your support is much appreciated.

Happy travels.

Ian

# Excerpt from "A Life Sold"

**Prologue**

View From A Bridge

I stood quietly on the bridge above the dark empty freeway, looking down at the smooth tarmac below. In the distance behind me I could hear the engine of a large truck as it approached at speed. I looked around and saw the lights heading my way, and thought grimly to myself, "This is it. This one is yours."

I would have to get the timing just right. If I jumped too early I would land on the freeway below, probably breaking both legs. That would hurt, but only for a short time, until the truck hit. Wait a minute though! What if I jumped early enough for the truck driver to see me, giving him time to react? What if he somehow managed to miss me? All I would have achieved would be a collection of broken bones, and more misery to pile on top of what I already knew was coming.

I would need to delay my jump as long as possible. Perfect timing would mean I'd hit the ground at the instant the truck reached the impact point, bringing the instant relief of endless darkness. But what if I delayed just a little too long? The truck was heading south, and I was on the south side of the bridge, facing south too. The truck would be out of sight as it passed under the bridge below me. Timing my jump was going to be tricky, as for a second or two I would not know exactly where the thundering juggernaut was. If I jumped too late I had visions of landing on the cab roof, and then bouncing along the top of the container, before falling off the back end into the road. There was a good chance I might survive that, and lay broken on the road, again to face pain and misery.

I should have planned this a little better. But how? If I stood on the north side of the bridge, facing the on-coming truck, the driver might possibly spot me climbing onto the parapet, preparing to jump. Would he be able to avoid me? Probably not, but I wasn't sure.

Maybe I should be down at the side of the freeway, hidden in the bushes. I could just run out at the appropriate moment, without having to consider the pain of broken bones from a poorly timed jump.

What about the driver? How would he cope with the aftermath of such an event? I don't imagine it would be easy to come to terms with something like that, even if one is completely blameless.

Good grief, if I was going to be such a coward about the whole thing, I should perhaps resort to the much less painful bottle of paracetamol tablets washed down with a bottle of whiskey. Ah, but I wouldn't want to wake up in hospital having my stomach pumped.

All of this, and more, flashed through my mind in the few short seconds as the truck closed the distance between us. The moment of truth approached.

I watched the truck pass below me and didn't make a move. The real truth was that I knew I was never going to go through with anything like this. My mind was simply whirling quickly through a theoretical set of scenarios that might provide an easy escape route from what was to come.

With a heavy heart I turned my cycle around, and began pedalling back up the cycle track alongside the freeway. I knew there were some long dark months ahead, despite the approach of another hot bright Australian summer.
PART 1

ALife4Sale

Chapter 1

A New Start

Two years later, in November 2007 I looked back at the challenges with which life had recently presented me, and decided it was time to make some changes. I needed a new start and I had a plan. I was going to sell my life!

The previous two years had taken my soon-to-be-sold life in a new direction, one which had completely taken me by surprise. I had never imagined working in the job I was now doing, and the life I was now living was so far removed from my expectations of two years earlier.

At that time, towards the end of 2005, life had been progressing nicely, according to a semi-structured plan. In November that year my wife and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary, inviting all our friends to a big party in the lovely house we had built together in the outer suburbs of Perth in beautiful, sun-kissed Western Australia.

But only days later my life was knocked violently off-course, when I discovered that my wife had met someone else, and told me that she no longer loved me.

After a traumatic few months we had separated. During those dark, lonely, early days I thought a lot about the incredibly happy past I had shared with Laura. I struggled to understand how it could have all gone so horribly wrong, without ever spotting, until it was much too late, a single sign that anything was amiss.

\---

I suppose my journey through life up to this point hadn't quite been the usual progression that most people follow, from school to college, to an entry level job in a chosen field, and then onward up the career ladder.

I did go to college eventually, but only after taking a year off between leaving school and finally settling down to further my education. I had managed to secure a place at Liverpool Polytechnic, where I would be learning how to teach outdoor activities. However, keen to see some of the world first, I deferred entry for a year. During that year I worked in a factory to save some money, and then travelled with one of my school buddies. We went to live on a kibbutz in Israel, where I worked in all sorts of jobs, as a foreign volunteer sharing the life of the community. Afterwards we travelled through Egypt, and then to Greece, where we bought a very cheap car, and drove back home via several European countries.

A short, but well-paid second summer in the local sign-making factory paid off my debts before college. I thoroughly enjoyed my years in Liverpool, but never wanted to work as a teacher in a school, my experiences in teaching practice convincing me of that. Eventually I settled in a job working for British Rail for a couple of years. I worked in their residential outdoor activities facility in the north-east of England, teaching their youth trainees skills such as communication, co-operation, teamwork, and leadership.

But a couple of years later boredom started to creep in and I decided to make a change. Inspired by a couple of friends who seemed to be making a very good living dealing in second-hand cars, I left British Rail, and moved into the small terraced house I had just bought.

Over the following years I managed to do fairly well, making a living doing the odd bit of freelance outdoor training work, dealing in cars and motorcycles, and trying my hand at several other ideas and businesses that looked like they might turn an easy profit.

In those years I managed to make a fairly decent living, but I could see that I was never going to become rich unless one of the many businesses I tried became a runaway success. As a means of self-motivation I started to make a list of things I would like to do, places I would like to see, and possessions I would like to own when lack of money was no longer an obstacle.

It was while on holiday in Kenya that I stumbled upon the sport that was to shape the next few years of my life. This new direction would eventually lead to meeting my wife, and ultimately moving half way around the world.

In partnership with my life-long friend and motor trading buddy, Bruce, I set up and then ran "Scarborough Jet Skiing" for five fantastic summer seasons. We hired out jet skis to holidaymakers at the beach, and sold new and second-hand skis. We also sold accessories, did some servicing and repair work, and sold a range of beach toys too. The north-east coast of England doesn't have a very long summer, so when the weather was good we worked all the hours we could, seven days a week. That didn't stop us enjoying life to the full, and in 1993, during the second summer on the beach, the most fantastic person I have ever met walked up to our caravan, and into my life.

Laura and I maintained a long-distance relationship for a couple of years, seeing each other as often as we could, and eventually she came to live with me for the summer season of 1996. The next year she finished college and moved over from Manchester to live with me permanently.

During the off-seasons, when it was too cold to run the jet skis, and later, after we sold the jet ski business at the end of the 1996 summer season, Bruce and I had tried a few other businesses. These had included cycle hire, wedding cars, and magazine publishing. None of them had offered the same success or fun of the beach.

I worked for the local council at the outdoor swimming pool for the 1998 summer season, the job being relatively easy to get because of both my background in outdoor activities, and my recent experience of dealing with the public in a watersports business. This ultimately led on to a fulltime job at the indoor swimming pool.

During this time Laura and I took our first trip to Australia, where her mother had been born and raised. Laura had dual nationality. Having been born in England she was registered as British, but was also registered as Australian due to her mother's nationality. She had a grandmother, aunties and uncles, and several cousins in Australia that she had never met. We spent six glorious weeks in the Southern Hemisphere summer as England's chilly winter held its grip back at home.

The following year we took our second trip, and were with friends in Sydney for New Years Eve 1999, which was enormous fun. Having thoroughly enjoyed both of our extended visits, we decided that we would perhaps like to go and live there.

Back in England we considered our options. We had often told each other that we both expected to be together for the rest of our lives, and the subject of marriage came up easily. We wanted to be together, we wanted to move to Australia, and we decided that after seven years together, we wanted to be married.

The big day was early in November 2000, and we couldn't have asked for better weather. It was a beautiful cold, crisp, blue-sky autumn day. The wedding ceremony at the registry office was simple, and afterwards Bruce took us up to Oliver's Mount in his van – we hadn't bothered with the expense of fancy wedding cars, saving our money for our future move to Australia. Lunch was in a Chinese restaurant, followed by an afternoon pub crawl down through the town centre to the seafront.

After dark at the beach we had everyone meet and bring along fireworks, enjoying a wonderful, but completely disorganised display. One of Laura's friends had brought along her new boyfriend, who was in the army. He had already thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon pub crawl, and provided great entertainment crawling around on the sand trying drunkenly to light more fireworks as others exploded in wild colours around him. It looked like a battle scene from some sort of psychedelic war movie as he belly-crawled from one firework to the next, and it was amazing that he didn't have to be whisked away to the casualty ward.

The reception took place in a town centre social club, and we had booked an Irish cèilidh band to play, which meant everyone could join in for some well organised Irish-style barn-dancing.

It was such a wonderful day, and I couldn't have been happier, knowing that I was now married to the person that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

A year later, after several more jobs, including working as manager of a mobile phone shop, a collector for a finance company, and a labourer on a building site, we sold pretty-much everything we owned. We said goodbye to all our friends and family, and moved halfway around the world to make a fresh start together.

We soon settled into our new life, and absolutely loved Perth, warm and sunny, on the beautiful Indian Ocean on the west coast of Australia.

We lived in a wonderful shared-accommodation house almost on the beach for our first year there, and then rented our own smaller unit in nearby Scarborough, namesake of the English coastal town where we had shared much of the previous seven years.

Australia offered a good life, and although my first foray into business there, renting deckchairs on the beach at Scarborough was doomed to failure, we both found great jobs, and lived a nice, easy-going life together.

Another eighteen months later, after much research, we took the plunge and bought our first piece of land, and built our first Australian home. The house, finished just less than three years after our arrival in the country, was like a dream come true. It was bigger and nicer than anything we could have ever have afforded back in England, and we worked hard together to create a fantastic home and garden. We had a few parties there, always enjoyed by our growing group of friends, and the pool table in the huge living room was always a central attraction.

Our longer term plan had always been to make this house the first stepping stone on our journey to planned financial freedom. Our goal was to end up in a home completely mortgage-free, our target time being within a period of five years. With completed homes often being worth around 25% more than the combined land and build price, the house had already gone up in value. We had also chosen the land well, and houses in our suburb had increased in value even further.

Our next step had been to look for another block of land to repeat the process. Our plan was to build our next house there, to move into that as soon as it completed, and to sell the first house at the same time.

In our next chosen suburb, land was selling well, and we had to queue overnight, sleeping in our cars in order to secure the block of land upon which we had set our hearts. It was in this queue that we met Andy, another expat Brit now enjoying the sunny Perth lifestyle, also trying to benefit from the on-going property boom.

Little did I suspect that this chance meeting would be the catalyst that would irrevocably alter my relationship with my wife and send my semi-planned life careering off the rails less than a year later.

I had my suspicions that something was going on, but could never have imagined the full devastating reality of discovering that Laura had fallen for someone else. That night, when life blindsided me, I cycled away from our home, and without ever planning to, had found myself on the bridge over the freeway. For the first time in my life I fully understood the awful decision and devastating action some people choose when life's terrible surprises come calling. I chose to cycle home and face the future.

Laura claimed it was all a huge mistake and said I was the one she wanted to be with. We decided that we would try to forget what had happened, and move on with our lives. No one else knew our situation, or needed to, I suggested. Laura assured me that all contact with Andy had been severed.

For a while we had tried to get our life together back on course. But a couple of difficult months later it was apparent that all was not well between us. When I discovered that Laura had seen Andy again, I confronted her about it, and she told me she thought that perhaps she no longer loved me.

I was heart-broken, and the following terrible weeks were filled with endless arguments, recriminations and blame. Laura still didn't seem to know what she wanted to do, but after more talks and a painful visit to a marriage guidance counsellor, her wavering indecision ended. It was clear that we had no future together. I was utterly devastated. In that one horrible moment I realised that my whole future had finally been stripped from me, and I faced a bleak, unknown darkness ahead.

Our current work and financial situations meant that the most practical decision was that I should move out. We decided to sell the house immediately, split the money, and go our separate ways.

Somehow we managed to do this without recourse to lawyers, and although on paper it all sounds very civilised and easy, there were weeks of arguments, tears, regrets, and sorrow. I hated every minute of it, and although I had fought with everything I had to try to save our marriage, I knew I had now lost her. I had to accept her final decision and move on.

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During those miserable first weeks after our separation, as well as wondering where it had all gone wrong, I also did a lot of thinking about what I wanted to do next. I made some decisions of my own. I had been working at the same shop for the past three years, acting as a rug salesman, and eventually as assistant manager, at the family-owned business. At the age of 42 it was officially the longest job I had ever had – I tend to get bored pretty easily working in one place, and like to challenge myself to take on new roles and learn new skills.

One of the main decisions I took involved my immediate future. If one huge part of my life in Perth had changed completely, then I could not simply continue in the same job, and live a shadowy half-hearted version of my previous life. It was time to leave my job, and do something completely new!

I also needed to earn quite a lot more than I was currently earning, as when we had separated, Laura and I had decided that we would sell the house we had been sharing. We agreed that I would take over ownership of the new block of land we had bought the year before. I would make all payments on it, in addition to all payments for the house-build that was due to commence there very soon.

After talking to a few friends, I decided to follow the path that many others in Western Australia chose when they needed to earn more money, and enter the mining industry. I had no relevant experience at all, but didn't really see this as a big hurdle. I started taking truck driving lessons in order to get the driving license that I would need to drive the monster trucks used in the mines.

I soon had the license I required, and handed my notice in at the rug shop, having already started to apply for dump truck driving jobs. The way a lot of mining works in Western Australia is on what is called a "fly-in fly-out" basis. This means that you live in Perth, but fly in to a remote mine site to work, and then fly back out for your time off. This most common work pattern is a "2 on, 1 off" roster, meaning that you fly in and work for two weeks, usually 7 day shifts and 7 night shifts, then fly home for a week off.

As the end of my time at the shop drew closer I had not yet found a job. It appeared that companies were reluctant to take on new people, often referred to as "greenies", for a fly-in fly-out position. Many of the agencies which I approached explained that companies generally did not take greenies as they were unsure of how newcomers would handle the work conditions. They did not want the expense of training someone new, only to find that the trainee hated the job, and left shortly afterwards. Employers wanted people with previous experience.

Following a couple of weeks of fruitless unemployment, I took a friend's advice, and packed my car with the few belongings I had that were not stored away. At the time I was staying in a borrowed apartment near the beach, the completion date for my new house was still about six months away, and I had no other ties. After a few farewell drinks in the local pub with some friends, I packed the last of my meagre belongings into the car, and hit the road early the next morning, heading east out of Perth.

Kalgoorlie lies about six hours drive away from Perth, in the middle of the desert, and exists mainly because of the huge open pit goldmine there. I drove into town on 4th July 2006 knowing nobody, with nowhere to stay, and no promise of a job at all.

However, things went very well for me there and within 48 hours I had a small but comfortable room, and a job driving a machine called a slag hauler, working in the local nickel smelter. The job also involved driving a nice Mercedes tipper truck with a decent auto gearbox, and an older tipper truck with a very cranky manual gearbox that took a lot of practice to use smoothly. I had to learn a lot of new skills very quickly.

It took me a while to get used to working strange new rosters and hours, and having to cope with night shift work too. During this time I kept pestering the Human Resources guy at the Superpit recruitment office to get me the job that I really wanted – trainee dump truckie in the huge open pit gold mine right at the edge of town.

I would often go to the lookout and gaze down into the pit, watching the huge trucks go around and around. One day soon, I thought, I hope to be driving one of them. Less than five weeks later, I was offered a trainee position as a driver there, handed my notice in at the nickel smelter, and went to start my new career!

The trucks are absolutely enormous and the training was very challenging, but I loved it. At times it was very frustrating, and I made plenty of mistakes, as did many of the other greenies there. But because this was one of the only places in the country that took on trainees, there were quite a few of us to share the mistakes around. Many of us had drifted into town from elsewhere to learn to drive these monster trucks, and I found myself working with a great group of people, all going through the same challenging learning curve.

After the first three months or so I found that the work was now much easier. The twelve-hour shifts did not seem so long, and night shift did not seem so bad. Handling the truck was pretty-much second nature too, and now many of us found that we could drive around, listen to the two-way radio, the FM radio, pour a cup of coffee and eat an apple all at the same time – well, almost!

Every second week, at the end of our block of dayshifts, the whole crew would all head to the pub after work. A few of us who had started around the same time together would laugh about how difficult it had all seemed at first, and share stories of some of the dumb things we had done, and still did occasionally.

It was a simple life, filled with hard work, but also filled with a lot of laughter and a huge amount of fun. I met some great people there, some of whom I know will be friends for the rest of my life.

For me it was also a very important part of my healing process. Living out in Kalgoorlie, with a totally new group of people, meant that nobody knew my past, so it was never mentioned. Long days sat in a truck with just my own thoughts meant that I had time to start to come to terms with the huge, unexpected upheaval in my life.

I spent a total of five months working in the Superpit, and absolutely loved it, but by the end I was ready to go back to Perth. I missed being by the ocean too much, and I missed my friends back in Perth too. I had a final date for completion of my house, and I had enough experience to get a fly-in fly-out job. This would pay more money, and in my personal circumstances, would suit me much better, I thought.

Just before Christmas 2006, a little over a year after my awful marital discovery, I moved back to Perth, and into the newly completed house that Laura and I had designed together. We had planned to live there together for a year or so as the next step on our journey towards financial freedom. Now, as I moved the furniture that we had shared in our previous home into place, I felt utterly alone.

For the past five months I really hadn't needed to confront too directly the huge loss, but now being surrounded by all of the reminders from my past, I had to face head-on the gaping hole that Laura's departure had left in my life.

I hated it! I didn't like being in the house alone. I missed my friends in Kalgoorlie, and the easy camaraderie we had shared as a group. I felt trapped in this new place, a reminder of everything that had once been, of all that I had hoped and believed was to come, and I hated it. I couldn't simply sell up and move on. To avoid Capital Gains Tax, Australian law stipulates that a house has to be your main home for a period of twelve months before you can sell. This had always been our original idea. We had planned to live in this place for a year while we bought the next piece of land, and built the next step of our dream.

I didn't feel like I had much choice, and had to accept that I would have to stick it out for a year. I had already landed a mining job that would mean I was only at home for one week out of three, the other two weeks being up on site in the desert far to the north. I would manage somehow.

Over the next few weeks I made the place my own, turning it into quite a nice bachelor pad with the addition of a large-screen home theatre system and an outdoor hot tub. I bought myself a motorbike, something I had always loved when I had lived in England, but had never had in the five years I had been in Australia. Slowly the house started to feel a bit more like home, although still filled with reminders of a past that was now long-gone.

I started dating again, and met Mel, who was originally French, but had lived in Perth for the past fourteen years. She was in much the same position as I was, although she was officially divorced and had two girls. I was only separated and had no kids to tie me down. We got on pretty well, and started an easy-going relationship about fourteen months after my separation from Laura.

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Around the time I met Mel I started my new job, and flew up for my first shift at the end of January 2007. I had landed a great contract, working a 13/8 roster, made up of 6 day shifts, 7 night shifts, and then 8 days off. My flights up and back would earn me frequent flyer points, all food was provided on site, and the pay was significantly better than Kalgoorlie. At the mine site accommodation village there was a canteen, a bar, internet room, a large swimming pool, gym, squash courts and a few other sports facilities. I had really landed on my feet, and soon settled in to the new job.

Since everything was provided for two weeks out of three, and I was being well paid for the long shifts I was working, over the following months I managed to make a fairly significant reduction in my mortgage.

It wasn't all easy sailing though. The work could be hot and boring, and the 12 hour shifts could really drag sometimes, particularly the nights, when it could be a real battle just to keep your eyes open. I missed the easy friendship of the group I had worked with in Kalgoorlie. I made plenty of new friends at Telfer, but because everyone had different lives, and lived in different places in a bigger city, somehow it was not the same as the close-knit little community I had enjoyed in Kal.

One advantage (or disadvantage, depending on how you looked at it) was that you got plenty of thinking time as you drove endlessly up and down in the huge open pit. I really found that I quite liked it, often happy to turn the radio off for long stretches at a time, and think my own thoughts. I always carried a notebook and pen to write any ideas down, or work out finances for some new business plan.

As the year progressed, life continued in a fairly uncomplicated fashion. I would fly off to work and be away for two weeks at a time, and then return for a week. I became happier in my house as I made it more like my own personal bachelor pad, and I enjoyed spending time with Mel and her two girls.

However, as the end of the year approached, I started to think about selling the house. Prices were high, and it was looking increasingly like the market may have reached a high point. I didn't feel like the time was right to buy another piece of land, as it all seemed to be very much over-valued. And to be honest, without Laura, my heart really was no longer in the long-term plan we had shared.

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So there I was, in late 2007, sat in a dump truck in a gold mine in the far north of Western Australia, having spent a large part of the previous ten months driving around the same hole in the ground. I had been in my new house for almost a year, and could now sell it without financial penalty. I started to think about my future, and what I might like to do next.

I really didn't want to stay working in the mine during the approaching southern summer, as temperatures would be extreme in the desert. I had worked long and hard, had paid a good chunk off my mortgage. I fancied a bit of a break, and perhaps some travel and adventure.

I made the decision to sell the house. Although a lot happier living there now, the house and its contents still provided a strong, and sometimes saddening reminder of a previous life, and although I felt that I was adjusting well, I wanted to complete the moving-on process, and this required getting rid of the house. It also made great financial sense, as I had paid quite a bit off the mortgage, and the house value had shot up quite dramatically over the year since completion. I would therefore be able to release a good nest egg of cash. One idea I had was perhaps to buy a big motorhome, and travel the country a bit. Perhaps I would work in a mine for six months of the year, over the winter, and then travel for six months each summer. Financially this would be quite viable once the house sold.

What would I do with the furniture, I wondered? Perhaps I could sell it all with the house, offering a fully furnished package. But I also had a car, and a motorbike, and I was considering buying a jet ski for the coming summer too. What would I do with all of them? Maybe I could include them as part of one big lifestyle package?

It hit me suddenly! I remembered an idea my old friend Bruce had had many years before. He must have had a particularly bad day at work, and came stomping into the pub, saying, "That's it, I'm going to get rid of the lot! The business, the car, the house, everything! I am going to sell my life!" He explained that the idea had just come to him. He would advertise the whole package in the Sunday newspapers, as he reckoned that despite the occasional bad day, he had a pretty enviable lifestyle.

However, when he checked the price of a full page advert in a national Sunday newspaper (this was long before the days of the internet) he was a bit disheartened, and he let his idea fall by the wayside.

Now, fifteen or more years later, as I drove my truck down the main pit ramp, the idea solidified into a plan. "That's what I am going to do! Sell my life! I'll include the job too, and will include an introduction to some friends. That's brilliant! How and where will I sell it? Auction it on eBay, of course!"

\---

When I returned to Perth for my next week off I ran the idea past three good friends, whose opinions I valued. I was surprised and encouraged by the results. Two of them thought it was a fantastic idea, one going as far as saying that she could imagine doing the same thing right now herself, as it was exactly how she felt. The third opinion was exactly the opposite, wondering in disbelief how anyone could possibly consider leaving behind everything they had worked so hard to build up.

I thought that if the idea could produce such strong opposing opinions, then there would be the chance to get some publicity for the project, which I knew I would need for the idea to be a success. If I had received three indifferent responses I would have probably abandoned the idea there and then.

I didn't take any immediate action, but let the idea stew a bit, and back at work jotted down ideas and thoughts as I drove up and down the ramps. The idea seemed to be one that just would not go away though.

In December I handed my notice in at work, and flew home after my last shift on Christmas Eve. I had decided to take at least a couple of months off, and between Christmas and New Year I went shopping for a small campervan. I trawled the backpacker hostel adverts boards, and soon found what I wanted. A Swedish traveller was selling the Toyota Hiace camper that had taken her and her friend around Australia for the past six months, and I bought myself a bargain.

I spent the months of January and February on an extended trip across Australia from west to east, on the way calling in to visit old friends in Kalgoorlie, and skydiving at as many different dropzones as I could find on the way. Over the past five years skydiving had become my sport of choice, and I tried to jump as often as I could.

On the journey across the huge open spaces of the country that I had come to call home, I thought a lot more about the "life for sale" idea. I met up with Mel and her kids and we travelled together for a few days, discussing the idea in much detail. Mel embraced the idea with enthusiasm, encouraging me to consider it more seriously.

I finally made the decision that I was going to go ahead. It would be fun, I thought, and might just raise a bit more than selling the house and contents separately, if I managed to get enough publicity.

Mel offered to help me create the website, and between us we mapped out a rough design. I bought and registered the website www.ALife4Sale.com. During a week-long stay with friends in Melbourne I started to write some of the content for the site, while Mel, back in Perth, started putting a website together, inserting my content as I wrote it.

I needed a date to provide a framework and timescale, and decided to aim for a seven day auction period finishing at the end of June, which is the end of the financial year in Australia. It was a pretty arbitrary choice, and when I looked at a calendar and saw that the 30th of June was a Monday, I decided that it might be better to end the auction on Sunday 29th. This meant the start date for the auction would be the 22nd.

I had decided to have a 100 day countdown from the launch of the website to the start of the auction. This was for two reasons. Firstly I thought that it may take a couple of months to build up a bit of publicity for what I was about to do, and secondly I was looking for a serious buyer, and I wanted to give someone time to sort out their finances, and perhaps even visas if they were from further afield than Australia.

I thought a lot about who might be a potential purchaser of the package I was putting together, and imagined several possible scenarios. Perhaps a Perth-based property investor might be interested in the package as a buy-to-let, already furnished and ready for a tenant. When we bought the land we had chosen well, as the house was in a pleasant location, with a nice westerly outlook over a natural bushland reserve, but was also an easy five minute walk to a train station on the newly completed southern railway line.

Perhaps someone from the other side of Australia might be interested in buying a ready-to-move-into lifestyle, particularly if they were coming over to join in the huge West Australian resources boom that was still pushing up house prices, and offering fantastic wages in the mines.

Maybe someone emigrating from abroad might be tempted in the same way by a ready-made lifestyle. Perth has an ever-expanding population, as more and more people realise what a wonderful place it is to live.

Over the next few days, while I had good access to an internet connection at my friends' house in Melbourne, the website really started to take shape, and I started to get very excited about the whole idea. As a practical way of selling everything at once it was brilliant, I thought. It would be a great experience and a lot of fun too.

We came up with the skeleton of the website over the course of five or six days, and I thought it looked pretty good. I continued my journey to Sydney in the campervan, where I did may last bit of skydiving for the journey. I sold the campervan, and flew back to Perth. I was now fully committed to the idea of selling my life, and was keen to get on with it.

We had about two weeks to complete the website, and worked pretty much flat-out to make it as good as we possibly could. We took many pictures of the inside and outside of the house, and all its contents. We took pictures of the car, and the motorbike, the hot-tub and the home entertainment system.

There was a lot of cleaning and tidying involved, and many times as we took pictures, there was a pile of junk just outside the frame, which was shuffled from room to room as we progressed.

On the website itself we included a guestbook and a voting page, where people could make comments or become involved by expressing their opinion on the whole idea. We also built in a bulletin board page where there could be some back and forth discussion on the matter too.

I still was unsure whether we were building something that nobody would ever see, or whether I might be successful in creating some publicity for the forthcoming auction.

I made the decision that if I was going to do this, I was going to do it properly, and leave absolutely everything behind. On the website, I stated that when I was paid by the new buyer, I would walk out of the house with nothing other than one set of clothes, and my wallet and passport.

I knew that I had to get as much publicity as possible for the auction, and spoke to my friend Simon, who lives in London, and works as a freelance reporter. I asked him what he thought the best approach would be to let people know what I was up to. He suggested that he could write a press release aimed at the UK newspapers, focusing on the fact that I was an expat Brit now living in Australia. If it makes it to a UK national newspaper, he explained, it would probably be picked up all around the world. "You may even get to do something on local radio," he suggested, and I thought publicity like that would be fantastic.

Many years before, I had written a book about how my wife and I had met. It was hand-written, and had only ever been intended for an audience of one. It told the story of how back in 1989, Bruce and I had started racing motorcycle road race sidecars together, and how we had eventually set up the jet ski hire business. There had been some very funny moments, and some great achievements.

I wrote about how one day in 1993, the person who was to become my wife walked up to our caravan on the beach, and stepped into my life. I described how we started our relationship, and some of the struggles and challenges we had faced.

I had thoroughly enjoyed the process of telling our unusual tale, even though the book would only ever have one reader. I had re-read it when it was complete, and thought it told the story very well, expressing how I felt about this wonderful person that had come into my life.

The next weekend that Laura and I were together, we drove up to Oliver's Mount, where we would stand together several years later on the day we married, and I handed the book to her, incredibly proud of what I had created. I truly believed we would happily spend the rest of our days together. Laura suggested that perhaps one day we might show the book to our grandchildren.

Eventually, of course, seven years after we met, we had married, and made the decision to start a new life together in Australia.

Five years later, as the relationship crumbled before my eyes, during one teary discussion about what had changed, I pointed out the book, and asked, "But what about that? What about all that we had to go through, all that we had to fight for to be together? That book says everything that I can't find the right words to say right now. What about all that?"

The devastating answer I had received was, "That doesn't mean anything now."

Therefore, as I put the website together, I thought I might publish the book online too. I knew people might want to know some of the background that could bring someone to the point where they decide to sell their whole life on the internet. I thought the story showed how much I felt I had lost, and would perhaps provide some context, so that people might understand. I also thought, somewhat bitterly, why not publish it? After all, it meant nothing to anyone else now!

The book was included as part of the webpage, as an introduction to the rest of my story. I hoped to write this during the build-up to the auction, telling the continuing saga of my adventures. It would cover our move to Australia, the life we created there together, the devastating break-up, and my change of direction that eventually led to the auction.

One of the last pieces of the whole package that I had struggled to find an answer for was how to include my job. I could not think of any reason why a mining company would want to be involved, and the logistics of trying to organise that would have been far too complicated. Eventually I hit on the perfect solution. I went back to the rug shop where I had worked for three years. It was a small family business run by husband and wife, Jenny and Dennis, who had been incredibly supportive and helpful as my marriage had collapsed.

Jenny loved the idea, and as they had a staff member leaving, there would be a position that I could fill on a temporary basis, a job which could eventually be offered to the new owner of my life. I knew the shop might benefit from some publicity if I ever got this off the ground, but Jenny just wanted to be a part of it because she thought it was a fun idea.

Finally, I spoke to a few of my friends too, explaining what I was about to do. I wondered if they would be happy to be included as part of the package. I explained that I was not proposing to sell them, but was simply offering an introduction to the new owner of my life to some wonderful people that were an important part of my life. Quite a few friends were very happy to support me, and thought it would be fun to be part of such an unusual idea.

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With everything in place, and the website almost complete, it was final decision time. Was I really going to do this? Did I really want to get rid of everything?

It was now over two years since Laura had finally decided that she was going to leave me, and although my life had improved, particularly since meeting Mel, it was obvious that all was still not well, otherwise this might not seem like such a good idea.

Two years later, nothing had done much to diminish how much I missed my wife. I had moved 600 kilometres out into the desert and had started a new career. I had moved into a brand new house. I had lived a completely new lifestyle working in the hot dusty mines of the outback. And of course, I also had a new girlfriend. But none of this had really changed anything for me. I still ached for my friend, my partner, my lover, my everything – my wife.

Every day, small things would remind me of the past that was now long gone, but still ever-present. The tiles on the shower wall that Laura had chosen, the rug on the living room floor that she had designed herself, the sweater hanging in the wardrobe that she had bought for me on my birthday, the same day I had done my first skydive. The plates in the kitchen that we had rescued from the back garden of the house that we had first moved into in Perth, and that we had washed and cleaned together. The small metal puzzles on the kitchen counter that we had bought on our first trip back to England, two years after migrating to Perth.

We had moved from England at the start of 2002 with almost nothing but a rucsac of clothes each, and so everything in the house that I now lived in alone had been bought in the wonderful four years we had shared together in Australia.

Everything about the house, and everything in the house reminded me of Laura. I decided that if I was going to get rid of the place and move on, I would be just as well getting rid of absolutely everything else too, and making a completely fresh start.

After all, it was only "stuff", I reasoned. The logical and optimistic parts of me thought that the idea might generate some interest, and hopefully sell as a complete package, perhaps for a pretty decent price too! If this happened I would be completely free to travel for a while, and if ever I needed "stuff" again, I would always be able to re-buy new "stuff".

Travelling now seemed like a good idea, I had decided. I hoped this might be the final step in my long process of coming to terms with the gaping hole in my life that Laura's departure still left.
Chapter 2

A Life Online

"That's it!" said Mel. "ALife4Sale is now online. Good luck!"

The 14th of March had arrived quickly, and the website was almost complete. There was a long list of minor adjustments, and some additions that would need to be made, but we were ready to go! Mel had uploaded the pages to the online website server, and I wondered just what we might have set in motion.

Simon had written his article back in London, and that day offered it to a couple of the UK national dailies. He phoned and told me that he had had some interest from both The Sun and The Telegraph, but nothing definite yet. There was a rejection from The Daily Mail, and he was just about to offer it to my old local newspaper, The Northern Echo.

The next day only The Northern Echo had run with the story, printing a huge full-page article on page three of the paper. It was complete with pictures and information from the website, which had just gone live online the day before. They had also run the full article online on their website.

I was pretty excited, but also a little disappointed that I had not made it into The Sun, which has one of the largest readerships of any English language newspaper. Now that would have been publicity, I thought, but at least I had made a successful start.

I had no idea of what was about to come!

Not long after the article appeared in The Echo, Simon phoned to say that he was getting a lot of interest from some of the national papers now, and asked if it was okay for him to give them my phone number. Of course it was!

The phone rang again soon, and I found myself talking to a reporter from The Independent. I was quite excited, and pleased to tell the story of how this had all come about. The interview was very positive and encouraging.

A short time after I hung up, the phone rang again, and a reporter from The Sun asked me roughly the same set of questions. This was all going much better than I had hoped for, and if these two ran articles, the coverage would be fantastic.

On the Monday morning UK-time, which was mid-afternoon in Perth, Simon rang again. He was delighted to tell me that there were articles in both The Telegraph and The Daily Mail, although neither of these had rung me. The Independent and The Sun had also run their pieces after speaking to me over the weekend, so I had made at least four of the UK national dailies. This couldn't possibly get any better, I thought!

I had had a few other calls from UK newspapers, and WHO? magazine in Australia had also called. Despite this I was not quite prepared for the next call, which came from the producer of Australian breakfast TV show Sunrise. They wanted me to come in the next morning and appear live on the show at around 8am. The time difference between Sydney and Perth meant that I would have to be at the studio at around 5:30am!! I cancelled the idea of going out to celebrate St Patrick's Day that evening!

I set off for the studio just before 5am, and was met by a cameraman and shown into the building. I was very surprised by how empty and quiet the whole place was. There was only myself and the cameraman in the studio. A sound guy fitted me with an earpiece and microphone and then disappeared back into a little control room. Other than the security guard who had let me in there was nobody else around.

I sat in the chair at the desk, with a photo-backdrop of the Perth skyline behind me, looked nervously at the huge camera pointing at me and listened to the show itself live in my earpiece. I have to admit I was pretty tense, but excited too. I took another sip of the glass of water at my side. Finally, in my earpiece, I heard a producer from the Sydney end of the connection ask if I could hear everything okay. "You're on live in 30 seconds."

I tried to relax, but couldn't suppress the nerves, and all of a sudden I was live on air, chatting to Mel and Kochie, the household-name presenters. I felt that I did pretty well, didn't stutter and stammer at all, and wasn't given any tricky questions. It was all over in a couple of minutes.

I was out of the studio before 6:30am, and went to visit Mel, as she lived close by. I was pretty high with excitement – I had just been on live TV on the east coast, and it would show here in Perth in about an hour. We watched the TV as I came on at 8am, and congratulated each other on a job well done. We had certainly created some publicity about the auction now!

My next port of call was at the rug shop on my way home. Jenny was very excited, but Dennis had a few well-chosen words of advice! "You looked very serious! It looked like you had a broomstick up your backside! Relax and have fun." I thought about this, and thought that yes, it is just meant to be fun, and if I ever got the chance again, I would try to enjoy the moment much more.

By the time I got home the message bank on my home phone was full and could accept no new messages. I had turned my mobile on after I left Mel's, and it had started ringing almost immediately. There was also a message to tell me the mobile phone message bank was full.

At home I turned my computer on and pressed "Send/Receive" on my email software. It took a while for the "receive" to complete, and when it did, over 1,000 messages had flooded in. As these downloaded, both my phones had started ringing again.

I tried to wade through as many of the emails as I could, but it was an almost impossible task. As soon as I hung one phone up the other would ring. Often both would be ringing together, and in the end I disconnected the home phone and just answered the mobile whenever it rang.

I soon got the chance to give my TV interview technique another try. I was invited to appear on a different Australian breakfast TV show the next morning, followed that afternoon by a live link-up with a UK breakfast TV show. I really tried to relax during both of these, and later my friend Karen told me that I had looked so confident and natural. I was really starting to enjoy all of this, but was panicking a little about all the unanswered emails and phone messages.

The next days were absolutely crazy. It was just non-stop. There were constant phone calls, interviews, photographers taking pictures for newspapers, and many radio show appearances. I was also trying to deal with the never-ending flood of emails. Calls started to come in from America and other parts of the world, and I appeared on US breakfast TV show Good Morning America.

I was absolutely worn out. I was often up before 5am to dash to a TV studio for an appearance, and then still doing interviews with US radio stations at 11pm. On many occasions people would call to schedule a radio interview time, but I explained that I could not really promise that my phone wouldn't be engaged, as it was ringing constantly. In many cases I was then asked if I could go live on air right there and then, and within 30 seconds I was in the middle of another interview.

One morning I woke up and thought, "Oh no, I've even started dreaming about doing interviews in the middle of the night!" But I paused for a moment, thinking, "Wait a minute! That feels a little more real than any dream."

I looked at my mobile phone, and found I had forgotten to turn it off before going to bed. I checked the call register, and discovered that I had received a twelve minute call at 3:30am. I had no idea who I had spoken too, or what I had said, but had a vague feeling that I had done okay. I just laughed – I had wanted some adventure and excitement, and I was getting more than I could have possibly imagined! I was going to try to enjoy every aspect of this experience.

But not everything was positive. The Daily Mail in the UK ran a huge double-page spread about the book I had written. They had obviously downloaded a copy from the website, and had gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. They had cherry-picked certain sections, choosing incidents and events from the story to sensationalise. Taken out of context, the parts the article focussed on made the book sound like a terrible warts-and-all exposé. The huge spread had featured a photo of Laura, and I had no idea where they had got it from. It was a picture I had never seen before.

I discovered later that they had turned up on my mother's doorstep back in England, and had hounded Laura's parents too. Laura called me, outraged firstly that I had told our story, secondly about the newspapers hounding her parents, but mainly about the fact that her photo was in the paper. "How did they get my photo? Could they have hacked into my computer? Or did you hack into my computer, steal it and give it to them?"

What?!! I tried to explain that this particular paper had never even spoken to me, that I had released the book simply as background, and still stood by it as a wonderful love story. None of this was being done to get back at her in any way. That had never been my intention at all. In regard to the photo, I had no idea how it had appeared in the newspaper, or where they had got it from. I tried to convince her it was certainly none of my doing. "I don't believe you, I don't know what you're capable of any more!" she said, and hung up.

I thought long and hard about my motivations for publishing the book. I had to admit that if I was completely honest, there was a somewhat cynical, financial element to my decision. I had thought I might be able to make some extra money from the book. But in my heart I also knew my intention had never been to cause anyone any hurt. It was obvious that I could not simply state that I planned to sell my whole life without providing some sort of background. The book would provide such detail, explaining how I felt about Laura, and give some insight into how losing her had affected me. I still stood by what I had written as a wonderful story of love triumphing over adversity.

I took the book down from the website, refunded everybody who had bought a copy, and cancelled all access to the material, which was password protected. I wrote an apology to any and all concerned, and published it online. I had been pretty naïve, I realised, about how it might be interpreted, but we all make mistakes and misjudgements at times, and this was one I was going to have to live with. I had done my best to put it right.

I was really surprised about the overall level of interest there was in me, and my reasons for taking this action. Most people seemed to perceive my decision to sell everything to be an extreme response to my situation. I really had imagined most of the interest would be about the lifestyle package that I was offering, not the motivations behind the package. Naïve again, perhaps?

In those early days I was also contacted by several documentary makers, all based in the UK. They all sounded very professional, and a few of them said they would send me discs of some of the TV documentaries that they had produced. It all sounded very exciting.

When I told Dennis at the rug store, he suggested I should talk to a friend of his who was a Perth-based documentary producer.

It was just before Easter weekend, and I arranged to meet up with Celia, whose company had quite an impressive resume of programs that they had produced. We got on pretty well, and she suggested that they were in a much better position to document what was happening, as they were right here in Perth, and could be with me much more than someone from the UK. She also suggested that they would like to start as soon as possible, as some amazing things were happening right now, and they would like to film over the long weekend. An overseas team would miss a lot of the initial early chaos.

I was in two minds about how it would be to have a documentary made about what I was doing. I took a bit of time to think about it, whenever I managed to get a few brief minutes of thinking time between calls and interviews. I quite liked the idea of being the focus of an unusual tale, I had to admit, but I also wondered about the downside of always having someone there with a camera in my face.

I spoke again with Celia, and she put my mind at ease, convincing me that they certainly wouldn't be there all day every day. Eventually we came to a tentative agreement that we would start filming over the long weekend, with no formal agreement as to where that may lead. This was something that we would be able to firm up over the following days.

I felt pretty comfortable with the arrangement, and met Britt, who would work as the main cameraperson and interviewer for the documentary. She would also occasionally use another camera team to record material if we went out and about.

Over the weekend Britt was at the house quite a lot of the time, and filmed much of what was going on. She would film me while I did interviews on the phone, and I found that it didn't take too long to forget, at times, that she was even there. Often, at the end of an interview, I would look up to see her filming me from along the corridor, and would be slightly surprised.

We did a lot of face-to-face interview-type of questions whenever the phone wasn't ringing. Britt would ask me a question, but wanted me to respond with the question included in the reply, so that the answers were fully self-contained statements. I found this a bit tricky to remember at first, as all the other interviews simply needed a response to the question. Eventually, with a bit of prompting every now and then from Britt, I managed to get the hang of it.

I really enjoyed the process, and Britt was very easy to get on with. It was quite different from the many radio and newspaper interviews I was still doing, where I found that I was often asked the same, or at least a very similar set of about five questions. I soon heard myself sounding a bit like a parrot, giving the same set of answers to the now familiar questions. I had found ways of expressing these answers that felt natural and comfortable to me, and tended to stick to these, trying some variations every now and then.

After a few days I told Britt I was about to do another telephone interview, and wondered if she wanted to film it? No, she said, as I would probably be saying pretty much the same stuff she had filmed me saying in most of the other interview she had seen me do.

I continued to enjoy Britt's face-to-face interviews, as she asked some fantastic questions, and really got me thinking about a lot of stuff that I hadn't given much consideration to recently. She managed to delve subtly into my past, emotions, motivations, relationships, future plans, and much more. It was quite a fascinating process to go through, and I tried to be fully open about everything. I did wonder in the back of my mind how it all might look when finally edited.

Over the Easter weekend, and during the weeks following, there were also developments in a new and very exciting direction. I had received a few emails from Hollywood production companies and independent producers interested in my story. I had responded to them and given them a contact number, but never really expected to hear any more from them.

My first inkling that there may be some serious interest in the possibility of my story being used as a movie script was a call from a guy in the US called Andrew Panay. I had a long chat with him, and he told me that he was one of the producers of the movie Wedding Crashers. Oh dear, I am not really a big Owen Wilson fan, but after our chat I did take a look at the movie, and quite enjoyed it. Andrew told me that he was in contact with Walt Disney Pictures, and the President himself there was very interested in the idea as a movie script.

I tried to retain a healthily protective scepticism about the whole thing, but over the next few days I received several other calls form both major studios and independent producers.

One of the more surreal conversations I had went as follows:

Movie Producer (very casually): "We see this project as a Tom Hanks-type of rom-com!"

Me (a quick, tongue-in-cheek response): "Tom Hanks? No, no! I rather saw George Clooney playing me!"

Movie Producer (not picking up on any of the humour in my voice): "Yes, we could possibly make that happen!"

Me (almost speechless with surprise!): "Riiiiiight....."

One of the best contacts I made during those first few weeks was with a guy who specialised in publicity for unusual internet projects. I received an email from Evan, and wrote back when I got the chance. We kept in touch, and eventually, when things calmed down a bit, I gave him a call to see what help he might be able to offer. He told me of his work with Kyle McDonald, who had created an unusual internet project. He had started with one red paperclip, and had swapped it for something else. He swapped the new item again and repeated the process over and over until he eventually ended up with a house. Kyle had just signed a movie and book deal, arranged through Evan, and another of his contacts, a movie agent called Brandon.

Evan, Brandon and I had a conference call one evening, at the point when there were quite a few emails and calls coming in from movie producers and studios. I had realised that if I was at all interested in following up with any of these potential offers, I really needed an agent who knew what he was talking about.

Again, I had spoken to Dennis at the rug shop, and he had suggested I should perhaps speak to an Australian-based representative, and gave me a couple of ideas of people who might be suitable. I eventually got to talk to one of these guys, and was quite unimpressed. He seemed completely confused by what I was doing, and had nothing to suggest other than perhaps selling the story to an Australian women's magazine. I told him about the movie studio contacts and the interest from documentary makers. He said he would think about it over the weekend and get back to me. I never heard from him again, and didn't bother calling him back.

I had a couple of further discussions with Brandon and Evan, and was starting to feel a bit pressured by the documentary makers with whom I was currently working. They were keen to make a formal agreement about the material they were filming. They were obviously inputting a lot of time and effort, and were keen to know that they had an end result to work towards.

I had put them in touch with a UK-based production company that had been interested in my story as an episode of an ongoing documentary series. An agreement had been made between a producer at the BBC and the Australian team about filming the episode for them.

I was quite excited and flattered. I mean, how often is it that the BBC wants you to be the central character of a forty minute documentary? But a problem was becoming apparent. I had spoken to Brandon about the documentary, and he had told me that there may well be a potential conflict between a movie being scripted, and a documentary being filmed.

I considered both possibilities at some length, and spoke to several friends about my dilemma. I was really enjoying the documentary process, and now felt pretty confident that the people making it would do a great job, and would present the story in a truthful and honest fashion. A movie would be quite a different matter, and, I imagined, would end up being far-removed from any of the reality of the story.

But there was one key difference, and several of my friends had asked me the same question. "How much would you get paid for each option?" Although my original intentions had been to sell my house and belongings in order to move along to the next phase of my life, there was of course a desire to sell my house for the best price I could get. And if I could maximise that through other options too, then that would give me the best possible start for the next part of my life.

I asked the documentary makers about any possible payment, and actually felt a bit bad about doing so. I mean, what a great opportunity it all was, and what fun too. I was informed that documentaries were never paid for, as it may have an impact on the impartiality of the final outcome. I understood, I told them, but in the back of my mind I thought it did seem slightly unfair. As several friends had also pointed out, everybody else involved would be getting paid – the camera people, the documentary company, the producers and the TV company.

I eventually appointed Brandon as my official representative with regard to any possible movie deal, and felt relieved that he could look after that whole side of the crazy situation. Any emails or contacts that came in about movie deals were forwarded straight to him. I was pretty confident that he would do a good job, as he worked on a percentage basis, and it was in his interests to do the best he could for me.

In the meantime I had worked out another deal with Evan, with regard to publicity for the auction. The publicity campaign that I had initially imagined had been achieved many times over in the first week after the launch of the website, but of course, additional publicity would not do any harm. Evan usually worked on a monthly fee basis, but I explained that I could not afford this, and would really have no idea how effective his work had been, as I had generated such a huge amount of publicity myself.

Eventually we worked out percentage-based deal, which would pay Evan on a sliding scale, dependent upon the final price that the auction raised. I was quite happy with this arrangement, as anything that Evan got paid would be out of extra money that I raised over and above my initial hopes and expectations. Evan was very positive about how the auction would go, estimating a low figure of $600,000, but suggesting that $1million could be a realistic possibility. My original target had been $450,000.

Brandon worked with all of the movie contacts I forwarded to him. He informed me that the original contact from Andrew Panay and Disney was looking like the most realistic possibility, but there would definitely be an issue with a documentary being made. I discussed this with the documentary people, and they argued pretty strongly that there was no reason why both could not be made, and would possibly even be beneficial to each other.

I went back to Brandon to argue their case, as I was still keen to make the documentary. He discussed it further with Disney, but eventually came back with the same answer. Disney would not permit a documentary to be made if they were to enter into a movie deal.

I felt caught in the middle of all this, and was feeling a little under pressure. Eventually I decided to take myself out of the equation altogether, and put the documentary people in direct contact with Brandon. A day or two later the documentary people decided that without a formal agreement at this stage they could no longer go on spending money in a speculative fashion, as it appeared unlikely they would end up with a finished program. I understood, of course, but felt that I had now burned my bridges, and hoped that something concrete would eventually come out of the extended negotiations with Disney.

During all of this, the craziness of the on-going media attention continued. I had returned to the rug shop to work, but would spend a lot of time answering my phone, and dealing with one interview request or another. On a couple of occasions camera teams from Australian or international news shows would come to the shop to do an interview, and Jenny, who loved all the publicity, made a couple of TV show appearances too.

I received an email from a producer at the Jay Leno Show in America, and was quite stunned. Now that really would be big time publicity! Unfortunately nothing ever eventuated from that, but a trip to the US would have been great.

I was also contacted by a producer at The Tyra Banks Show. I had never heard of Tyra Banks, and did a little internet research. I was somewhat worried by the content of her shows. It certainly seemed to be targeted firmly at the trashy, sensationalist end of the market! When I next spoke to the producer I raised my concerns, but he informed me that the show was a one-off, featuring people who had decided to make radical change in their life.

I made it very clear that I had never discussed publicly the details of the break-up of my marriage, and would not be prepared to do so on the show. I pointed out that I had only ever stated in any interview that I had made a discovery one evening that had blindsided me, and that our marriage had ended shortly afterwards. With this proviso agreed upon, it looked like I might be heading to New York very soon.

Unfortunately, the producer had left things until the very last minute, and although I was prepared to go on short notice, flights were very expensive. The show's budget would not stretch to that expense and another trip to America fell through.

I was continuing to write a daily blog about what was going on in the 100 days countdown to the start of the auction. Finding the time to do so was a bit of a challenge sometimes, but I knew it was worth it as it would serve as a great diary of these strange and interesting days.

Often I would write about what was going on, but I was always aware that part of the reason for the blog was as a sales pitch for the "product" that I was offering. Often my blogs were therefore about great days out in Perth, the wonderful weather, and the laid-back beach lifestyle.

I continued to receive a huge number of emails from individuals who wished me well, or offered support and encouragement. Probably about 95% of the incoming mail was positive, but there was certainly quite a bit that was very negative too. Some people suggested that I was an attention-seeking idiot. Why couldn't I just deal with my problems quietly like any normal person would, without having to tell the whole world about it? I think many people missed the point that I was not doing this for sympathy, merely in order to sell up and move on. I had simply told the story about how I had reached this point as background, to explain how I had arrived at my decision.

The bulletin boards on the website were proving to be equally interesting. Again, a huge part of it was positive, encouraging and supportive, but there was a small and very vocal minority that were very negative too.

I had one particularly enthusiastic detractor who accused me of being a hoax and a fraud, suggesting that the auction would never happen, and that I was conning the world's media. For what purpose, I wondered, in response? Other people wanted to know the ins and outs of my finances, my personal relationships, and other private details. My reluctance to divulge absolutely every private detail about myself was taken to be some sort of proof that there was some big fraudulent scheme developing here.

I quite enjoyed the negative comments and criticisms. They gave me a chance to respond to issues that many others must be wondering about too, and an opportunity to show people that all was exactly as I presented it on the website and in the press. But as I was to discover, there really is no convincing some people!! I didn't worry about it too much.

Although I tried to avoid it as much as I could, it was impossible to avoid my private life being dragged into the press. One unusual and somewhat surprising story appeared in the local Perth newspaper. I thought that the Australian press had a bit more integrity than much of the UK's gutter tabloid press, but the article was a bit of a disappointment.

Mel and I had been in a relationship for about a year by this point. We had met over a year after my separation, and enjoyed a pretty easy-going relationship. I was often asked if I had a current partner, and never really answered directly. Firstly, Mel did not want to have any part of the publicity, and secondly, I believed that any current relationship was nothing at all to do with the sale.

However, one local reporter did not see things that way, and went and did some digging, quizzing colleagues at my skydive club. The article that was written was not very positive, and suggested that the "heartbroken" man selling his life on eBay was perhaps not all that heartbroken after all, as he was in a happy relationship. What was not pointed out was that this was now two years after my separation.

On the bulletin boards, my favourite critics picked this up as proof that all was not right here. If I was lying about this, what else might I be lying about? I decided to address the issue head-on, and linked directly to the article myself, pointing out that a couple of years had passed since my marriage had ended. I asked how long I was supposed to wait until I began looking for a new partner, and some new happiness in my life. Also, after some discussion with Mel, I pointed out that our relationship had not quite been the blissful union that the news article had suggested, and that we had in fact now separated. Mel had eventually lost patience with my lack of commitment to the relationship, and had decided to move on. I really didn't like having to make such personal matters public, but had to be somewhat realistic, and accept that this was part of the down-side of all the publicity.

After a few weeks the publicity died off a little, and things started to return to some semblance of normality. A couple of friends from the east coast of Australia had moved over to Perth to start new careers in the mining industry, and they stayed with me for a few weeks. Another friend from the UK came and stayed for a while too, as he visited several companies with a view to getting a job in Australia, and moving over with his family to live here. It was nice to have some visitors who were also making some huge changes in their own lives, who understood my position and actions, and offered plenty of encouragement and support.

In the calmer days after the initial craziness died away, Mel and I made up and got back together again. We had discussed our relationship, and what being together again might mean. I had been at pains to point out that I really didn't want anything too serious or involved, and hoped to keep things very much on a casual, friendly basis. Mel seemed happy to agree to such an arrangement, and a little sense of normality returned to life as things settled back into some sort of routine, and I resumed my duties at the rug shop.

\---

I was still doing occasional interviews, answering the same set of questions that I had been asked hundreds of times before. In most interviews the series of questions was very predictable, and my answers had become pretty automatic. This generally is what I would be asked:-

"Can you tell us what you are doing?"

"Why have you decided to do that?"

"How much do you think it will all sell for?"

"What will you do afterwards?"

"What do friends and family think about it?"

Sometimes there would be other questions included, such as why my wife and I had separated, or what she thought of the whole idea. Another favourite was about how I could sell my friends. I was always very keen to explain that I had never, ever said that I was selling friends. I was simply offering, as part of the package, an introduction to a wonderful circle of people who would be prepared to offer a warm welcome to a newcomer.

I must have been getting a bit too comfortable doing these interviews, as I really enjoyed it when something a little different happened. I particularly enjoyed the breakfast radio show type of interview, where there would be a panel of two or three presenters, and laughs were their main aim. They were much more challenging, and a lot more fun. You really could have anything thrown at you, and had to be pretty quick on your feet with a snappy answer.

It was the fourth question on the list that always gave me the most difficulty. I had been asked so many times in interviews and on the ALife4Sale website forum what I thought I might do once I sold my life. I didn't really have an answer, even for myself. My usual glib response was that I would be able to do anything I liked!

But in the back of my mind, I wondered what it was that I really would like to do. One day I was chatting on the phone to Evan, the US-based internet publicity guy. He suggested that after the auction, when I came out to LA, we would go skydiving together, and he would show me what his city had to offer.

"Great," I had said, "but I guess that depends on how the finances look, and where I am working at the time."

"Work?" said Evan. "No, no, no! You don't understand! This is your chance to never have to work again!"

"Well, I like your thinking Evan," I replied, "but I haven't got a clue what you're talking about! How would I do that?"

"Well, you have to come up with a follow-up project. Something that is internet-based, is quirky and interesting, that follows on logically from what you are doing now, and most importantly – and this is where your money comes from – has a book deal in it!"

"Righto. Sounds good. So what is that then?" I asked.

"I have no idea, that's up to you, buddy!" Evan had laughed.

"Hmm, okay, I'll get to work on it."

This advice sat in the back of my mind for the next month or so. People continued to ask in interviews what I planned to do next, or where I intended to go, and I always answered that I still didn't really know. All I knew was that I wanted to do some travelling.

One day on the ALife4Sale website, a forum contributor called Tess had asked if I had any sort of a "life-list", or set of goals. I did have an old list somewhere that I had written out a few years earlier.

Not long after I had searched unsuccessfully for my old list, Mel and I spent an evening together at her house, and were well into our second bottle of wine. I could still remember many of the goals from my original list, and told her with enthusiasm about many of the things that I had always wanted to do or see. I estimated that out of the list of 100 things I wanted to achieve in my life, in five years since I had written them down, I had only ticked off perhaps six of the goals. That obviously wasn't going to work. If I maintained the same rate of achievement, I was going to die one day with the larger part of my list still incomplete.

In one sudden flash of wine-fuelled inspiration, an idea came to me. As soon as I sold my life, I would set off to achieve all of the things on my list. I would re-write a list of 100 goals, and give myself a time limit. And there it was, almost fully formed, the idea for my next two years – 100 goals in 100 weeks.

As soon as the idea flashed across my somewhat inebriated mind, I thought, "That's it!!" It perfectly filled Evan's criteria, and it would be incredibly exciting to do too. I knew immediately that this is what I would be doing next. My future was looking very exciting indeed.

However, in my excitement, I didn't notice Mel's crest-fallen look, and when I look back on this occasion, I can only imagine the hurt I must have caused.

Mel, as always, supported and encouraged me. She threw herself into designing another new website, cataloguing the goals, designing search options, setting up blog, photo and video pages, and much more.

As I added text to each of the goals, and background to the reasons behind my choices, I became increasingly excited and focused on making this all become a reality.

\---

For almost as long as I can remember, I have always had goals, even when I never fully grasped the importance of doing so.

When I was very young, I can remember watching a documentary about Ernest Hemingway, a writer born in 1899. He lived a full life, settling in different locations for several years at a time to write, and then moving on. Inspired by his visits to Spain, in 1926 he wrote his first novel, The Sun Also Rises. When the documentary covered this part of his life, it showed quite a lot of footage of the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona. I can clearly remember sitting and watching those people running wildly through the streets with bulls thundering around among them, and thinking to myself, "I'm going to do that one day!"

When I told my parents they smiled and wished me luck. They were always supportive of anything my brother or I wanted to do, but I don't know if they believed I would ever do it.

As I started to gather my list of 100 goals, including things I have always wanted to do, and places I have always wanted to see, I thought of that day, probably over 30 years earlier. Of course, on the list I started to make, running with the bulls at Pamplona went right at the top!

There were many other things that I had often said I wanted to do, but had never managed to find the time to get around to doing. It was time to put that right. Once everything sold I would have little to tie me down, and hopefully plenty of cash from the sale. My list of goals started to grow.
Chapter 3

The Auction

My idea was to break the news of my goal-achieving new plans just as the auction finished, with publicity at its highest. I would hopefully kick-start my new adventure in fine style.

As the end of June approached, interest from the media began to increase again. By the time the auction started, I had stopped working at the rug shop again in order to ensure that all went smoothly with the sale, and to complete work on the 100goals100weeks.com website.

However, the start of the auction didn't quite go according to plan. I had been contacted by eBay, who had seen some of the publicity about the auction, and had allocated me my own personal eBay rep. Matthew was there to help me with any issues that may come up, and his first requirement was that the sale be listed under "Real Estate", as the house was the major asset included in the whole "life" package.

This meant that the eBay auction could only offer an introduction between buyer and seller, as house sales were covered by many different laws in each state. Ultimately any final bid would not be binding on either the buyer or the seller. This sounded great to me, as eBay could therefore not charge an end-of-sale commission, and the total cost to make the listing online would be a mere $49.95.

I asked how we could deal with the potential problem of fake bids, and Matthew suggested that we set up the sale as a "Registered Bidders Only" auction. Anybody wanting to bid would have to answer whatever questions I cared to ask, and I could choose who would be allowed to bid. This would enable me to weed out people who looked like they may not have made any sort of arrangements to have finances in place, or considered whether they would need any sort of visa to come to Australia. Anyone from abroad would, as a minimum, have to at least be familiar with the requirements of the Foreign Investment Review Board.

Out of the hundreds of potential bidders I imagine I rejected about a third, mainly because many of these had made no sort of plans should they be the winning bidder. I thought I had every eventuality covered.

On the morning that the auction began, many friends came round, and there were a few bottles of wine, and even one of champagne too. There was a wonderful celebratory atmosphere, and at noon Mel and I set the auction in motion! Matthew had told us that once the auction had started we would be able to switch on the "Registered Bidders Only" option, and Mel said she would do this as I raised the first of many glasses in celebration.

A short while later Mel asked me to join her. She couldn't get the option to switch on, and at the moment it was a bidding free-for-all. Bids were already at over $100,000, having started at just $1 only minutes before. The "Registered Bidders Only" option didn't seem to be available, but I said that it shouldn't be a problem, as I would just give Matthew a call. Ah, but eBay help was only open during working hours on Monday to Friday. It was now just after noon on Sunday. We tried the online help system, and Mel struggled for a while, messaging back and forth with a help rep somewhere else in the world. She was told that the option had to be turned on before the auction started, and couldn't then be selected afterwards.

No problem, I had said, I would just speak to Matthew on Monday morning and get the issue resolved. I suggested that Mel should join me with the others happily downing the cheaper wine now that the champagne had been consumed.

By mid-afternoon bids had reached around $350,000, and I confidently predicted that they wouldn't go any higher now. By the time we went to bed the top bid was $650,000.

I had to be up very early the next morning for a TV interview, and with a couple of spare minutes, I decided to take a look at the auction's progress. I was absolutely astounded to see a bid of $1.9 million. As I sat there in amused disbelief, the screen refreshed, and the bid was now $2 million. Laughing to myself, I shut down the computer and headed for the TV studio.

By the time I was interviewed the bids were at $2.2 million, and I was asked what it felt like to become an overnight multi-millionaire. Let's all just stay calm here, I had suggested. I hadn't had a chance to check out the veracity of these bids, and had no guarantee that they weren't fake. I explained the issues we had had with the registered bidders fiasco.

Later in the morning Matthew resolved the issue, and together we looked at the bids. He explained how I, as the seller, could access full details on any bidder, including home phone number, and I got to work.

I made several amusing phone calls that morning, including one to the aunt of a fifteen year old lad in England. Was he there, I wondered?

"No, he doesn't live here," she explained in a broad Geordie accent. "He only uses this number because he doesn't have a phone of his own."

"Right," I sighed. "He has been bidding on a rather expensive item on eBay. Does he often do that?"

"Oh yes, he often buys stuff off the internet."

"Okay, would he be in a position to pay over two million dollars?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, his current bid in a pretty high-profile auction is $2.2 million. If he doesn't follow through, I imagine it will be your door that the world's press will be knocking on shortly!"

"Eeee! I'll kill the little bastard!"

And so it went on. Eventually, I had weeded out all of the idiots, and cancelled all of the bids that looked in any way suspect. By mid-Monday morning we were back on track, and the top bid stood at $150,000.

It had been fun to be a multi-millionaire though, even if it was only for a couple of hours.

The rest of the auction week was equally incredible and entertaining. There were live TV interviews first thing every morning, and radio and newspaper interviews for the rest of the day. There was a wonderful sense of build-up to the finale, and friends would call round regularly to see how things were progressing.

I arranged a party for the Saturday evening, as a "thank you" to all my friends who had supported me over the previous months. On the morning of the final day of the auction, the house was an absolute mess.

With Evan's help in LA, we had set up a live video feed from the house, and were streaming the last hour or so live over the internet. By 11:30am there was a house-full of friends, many still there from the previous evening. We were live online, had two TV news crews setting up gear in the living room, a Japanese TV crew filming everything that was going on, and a helicopter circling overhead looking for a place to land.

After the initial drama of the $2 million-plus bids, the auction had progressed in a much more sensible fashion. The current high bid was $399,300, just a few dollars short of my unstated reserve price of $400,000. I was hoping, as often happens on eBay, that there would be a final flurry of bids in the dying seconds of the auction, and the price would be pushed up a bit higher.

The clock ticked past noon, and the auction was over. My computer was being fed through the projector onto the large screen on the living room wall, and I refreshed the eBay screen, eager to see the final bid.

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To find out what happened at the end of the eBay auction, and to follow the amazing two-year adventure that followed, get hold of a copy of "A Life Sold". It is available in both paperback and digital format at all good online book retailers. Search for either "A Life Sold" or for "Ian Usher" at your favourite online book outlet.
