Posts Tagged ‘bay of islands’
Langford Ink has been working with the Flying Kiwi Parasail team over the past few months, shaping up a new logo for them, tweaking their brochure and – finally – setting up a new website that is easy to update, search engine friendly and looks fresh, bright and accessible to all.
We’ve been working to a fairly strict budget, so the challenge has been to get a great new look on a fairly short shoe string.
First, the logo. What you see here, top right, is the result of some old fashioned sketching and few design iterations. The client was a pleasure to work with because they had a fairly good idea of what they wanted, were prepared to put in the effort to communicate that, but weren’t closed to alternative ideas and reasoning.
The team already had a cool parasailing kiwi cartoon, which they loved, but he was prohibitively expensive to print. Apart from this little chap, there wasn’t much in the way of consistent branding other than a font type used on the staff hoodies and, more recently, splashed across the new bright orange, custom-designed boat.
Game on — we had a brief: a very orange boat with the word PARASAIL in big blue letters down the side.
We were also given this sketch on a black and white photocopy of the staff hoodie, to show the idea of a kiwi being incorporated into the logo. From this starting point, we developed a series of options.
In good old fashioned graphic design style, we chopped up the different concepts, and mixed and matched until we got to a literally cut-and-pasted brief.
And now we’re getting close to a logo: we have a faded silhouette of the flying kiwi, a little bit abstract, but definitely of Aotearoa extraction; we have a typeface that ties in with the boat signwriting; we have the words Paihia and New Zealand included in the logo. The overriding feature is descriptive – the word parasail leaps out at you – but there’s also a more interesting visual language building up.
So from here, we came up with the almost final version, a blue logo with the words Bay of Islands, rather than Paihia.
And then, finally, because the team actually really like that zingy orange colour of their boat, we settled on the orange fade as the main iteration of the Flying Kiwi Parasail logo.
To see more of Craig’s furniture range visit: www.cmcdesign.co.nz or email firstname.lastname@example.org
It’s great working with individuals who merrily plow their own furrow. That’s why I live in the Bay of Islands I think; somehow you can do what you like here, up to a point (I’m still trying to work out the formula for this – answers on a postcard).
Anyway, Craig McInnes is one such individual.
Known locally as a reliable boat-builder and sailor on the iniquitous Orange Peeler, Craig obviously decided it was time for something new. He didn’t ‘down tools’ as such, but he has certainly put them to different use in the past year.
Using a lifetime of knowledge crafting timber, he started work on furniture pieces, with a casual eye on setting up anew as a furniture designer. Within in no time he had created not just one but two ranges of children’s furniture: one set of modular pieces constructed from marine-bonded ply (”you can leave it out in the rain and it won’t be destroyed”) and a pre-constructed or NON modular range that has been snapped up by local kindergartens. All his furniture is registered Buy New Zealand Made.
He featured in Good magazine for his children’s range and in the entrepreneur magazine Unlimited for his luxurious J10 chair. Now his focus is on refining the childrens furniture to make sure it really delivers on its promise: “No plastic, no gimmicks, strong shapes, durable timber – perfect for us at home, in schools and at kindergarten”.
I’m keen that all the parents, kindies and schools in Northland find out about this treasure of a design workshop tucked away in Opua – check out the CMC Design website and follow Craig’s progress on Facebook. I think we’ll see some exciting things happening in the next couple of years.
Water is not my “natural” element.
I’m quite scared of water, truth be told, and seem only to be able to deal with this fear by forcing myself into situations where I face it square on: sailing fast across deep water that I would never dare swim in; snorkelling in silence in those dark and frightening nooks and crannies; facing pounding surf that bruises my body and fills my nose with brine. Just last night I dreamt I was swimming on the shore line, totally encompassed by pink and orange fish and scratchy seaweed: I was terrified and enchanted at the same time.
Marine science is a mystery to me.
I couldn’t tell you the representative habitat types of our local marine environment (other than the kina barren, an unnatural habitat type that we see in abundance in the Bay of Islands) nor could I list the most commonly occurring fish in the Bay, other than snapper and, once upon a time, kahawai, hapuka, cray.
I don’t know how to fish, but wish I did. I’d put the big and little ones back and take only enough for my table.
So why, from this curious non-position, have I been so caught up in the Fish Forever campaign for marine sanctuaries in the Bay of Islands?
The answer to this is because I abhor the apathy of the status quo. I object to the idea that we can’t change things; that we’re too late, so the only option is to shrug our collective shoulders and move on in the same direction. Further, I cringe at the human-focused view of the world that puts man at the centre with his tentacles splayed out, mindlessly sucking the lifeblood out of every other natural occurring phenomena to ensure his longevity. The world is a resource to be used and discarded.
It’s the “I’m alright Jack” mentality.
Of course I’m speaking of those fortunate enough to have their basic needs for food, warmth, shelter met. Further, I’m speaking of those lucky enough to be educated, to have choice, to have leisure.
If you’re reading this far, I can pretty much guarantee you don’t consider yourself in the “I’m alright Jack” camp, you’d have turned your eyes heavenward by now hit the red cross in the top right hand corner. I will also hazard a guess that you are among the fortunate ones with an educated mind and well nourished body with the leisure to cruise the internet in between jobs.
In which case, you actually ARE the target of my rant (as am I, I’m not off the hook by any means). YOU are probably the one most at risk of apathy because conscientiousness alone isn’t enough. Awareness isn’t sufficient to make change.
Only the actions we take can we commit ourselves and our future to a different path than Mr and Mrs “I’m alright Jack”.
And that’s why I have been campaigning with an amazing team of volunteers for Fish Forever. Because I believe that individuals can change things. Because, while water is not my natural element, I find our ocean a source of spiritual greatness and I believe that humans have exploited that great vulnerable giant enough.
It may not be my fault, or your fault, or any individual fault. But as a species, we’re guilty. It is the fault of governments making sloppy short-term decisions with their splayed out tentacles that have far reaching effects. But these are governments that we elect, who should be accountable to the people. And therein lies my point – somebody has to start to take account. It has to be the people, and that is you and I.
Please visit www.fishforever.org.nz and get involved while you have a chance.
Please sign the people’s mandate to protect 10% of the geographical area of the Bay of Islands to be protected as no-take marine sanctuaries, with generational review.
And please, most important of all, if you know the Bay of Islands in the Far North of New Zealand, support the tireless work of the Fish Forever volunteers by contributing your views to the areas that should be optioned as marine sanctuaries.