So far I have delivered postcards to people in:
Quito, Ecuador
Montevideo, Uruguay
Weston, Massachussets
Lee, New Hampshire
Standish, Maine
West Vancouver, British Columbia
Burlington, Vermont**
Oshawa, Ontario**
Mexico City, Mexico**
Del Mar, California**
Pasadena, California**
Waseca, Minnesota**
Naperville, Illinois**
**Story coming soon!

Stay updated:



Don't forget to see how you can participate in Message in a Barrel or read about growing number of Message in a Barrel postcard barrels sprinkled around the world.



Share your postcard hand-delivery story: messageinabarrel@gmail.com

I am currently in the process of pitching Message in a Barrel to various publishers. Feel free to read the Message in a Barrel draft intro chapters and send me some feedback as to what you think are the strong/weak points so far. Thanks!

-Kyle

MESSAGE IN A BARREL
Copyright © 2005 Kyle MacDonald


DISCLAIMER:
The following is not based on a true story. The following is a true story. Sure, I left out the boring bits, like the number of times I brushed my hair or teeth, but other than that, it is entirely true. Well hang on a second, let’s clear this up right now: During the course of the events detailed in this story I brushed my teeth exactly 753 times and brushed my hair exactly zero times. What can I say? My hair doesn’t brush well --It’s curly. There, with important but boring brushing matters settled, you can be assured that you are about to read is entirely true. It happened to me, it can happen to you.

"Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”

Inscription, New York City Post Office, adapted from Herodotus, Greek historian & traveler (484 BC - 430 BC)


INTRODUCTION:

I don’t know if you’ve ever pulled your fate from a barrel on a remote Pacific island, but let me tell you, it’s not for the faint of heart. The sun blazes above. Waves crash in the distance. My mind is dizzy with expectation. My entire life has led to this moment. I stare at the barrel and visualize the postcards stacked within. What transpires in the next half minute will determine the next six months of my life, possibly longer. I look at my girlfriend Dom, give a gentle nod, take a deep breath and approach the barrel. My right arm reaches forward and opens a small door, then drops inside. Postcards, countless postcards brush against my palm, each addressed to a unique destination. Hundreds of postcards, hundreds of destinations. I tighten my fist and draw a handful from the barrel. I turn, look directly into Dom with purpose and say boldly “This is where we’re going.” I look down at the postcards, realize for the first time the commitment in my hands, and vomit like a banshee.


Chapter 1: Whack Job

I deliver. That’s what I do. You might do other things, but that’s okay, we are all different. Maybe you sing, or perhaps you cook, and maybe, just maybe, you’re a reader. We’re all quite different, we do what we do, à chacun son gout. Now, you know when you take away the thing that you do, you get that hollow, helpless feeling? The feeling when your place in the world is gone? The lack of importance? Well a few short months prior to standing on a beach in the Galapagos with my fate literally in my hands, that’s how I felt. Rudderless. Broken.

I lay sprawled on a couch. Injured. Helpless. Unable to deliver. Two months previous my girlfriend Dominique’s Uncle René gave me a job delivering large appliances. Large appliances up spiral staircases in three story buildings with co-workers who spoke only French. The best place to learn another language is on a tight spiral staircase with one-half of a 250 pound fridge strapped to your neck. You either learn, or get mangled. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a crash course in French that put me out of action. No, my fall from grace was quite less spectacular than out of control steel strapped to body parts spiraling down a set of stairs. Yesterday, I lifted a dishwasher into the back of the pickup and something in my back popped. That was it. Game over. Sure, it was lame, but that’s how the chips fell. I’m sure the boys at the appliance store had a riot with the situation. At this moment the air was likely filled with the French equivalent of “Now a fridge I could understand, or maybe even a washing machine, but a dishwasher? Onto a pickup? It’s just so unreasonable.” Spectacular story or not, for the first time in my life, I was unable to do the thing that I do. I was unable to deliver.
Now up to this point in my life, I’d never had the time to consider exactly what I did. Like most youngsters, I’d chalked up an impressive clutter of occupations that were fun to relate to buddies at the bar, but somehow looked less impressive the next day when revising my resume, sober: Junk Removalist, Pizza Delivery Driver, Trade Show Representative, Velcro Salesperson, Busboy, Treeplanter, Oil Rig Roughneck, Cattle Herder … you get the idea. A list dominated by a motley assortment of seemingly unrelated temporary professions that filled voids between semesters at university and travel. But as I went through the experiences further I realized nearly every job I’d ever had involved delivery. From my first job “hauling” Velcro-filled cardboard boxes across international borders in my Toyota Tercel station wagon to my current fridge sherpa profession on hold, it was always about taking this, there. I’d driven tradeshow booths to San Francisco, delivered pizzas to the hairy hermit living in the basement suite up the street, and shuttled personal junk from the homes of strangers to the city dump. Each occupation more eye opening than the last. It seemed that within the anarchy of horizon-expanding temporary work assignments there existed a framework, or common lineage of sorts that added together to make me somewhat of an expert on moving an object from one place to another. I’d never delivered the mail or had a paper route, but in a freestyle manner, my personal history proved me worthy of nothing less than black belt status in the art of delivery.
Way back at the turn of the century, in 2001, I lived with my parents and worked as a pizza delivery driver. My younger brother Scott lived and worked in Sydney, Australia. One day we received a package in the mail. It was Scott’s passport with an urgent message attached: “Guys, I never got my Australian work Visa. I can’t get one from down here and immigration will kick me out of the country if you don’t get me one quickly. Please mail it as soon as possible. Here’s my address…”
Secretly, without telling Scott, I sent his passport to the Australian Embassy and went to work on an epic delivery plan. After cashing in my pizza delivery tips for an airplane ticket to Sydney, I stood at Scott’s front door with 200 spending dollars in one hand and his Australian work visa embossed passport in the other. I knocked. A groggy face appeared at the door. I held the passport up and yelled, “Surprise!”

Visibly shocked, and hungover, Scott managed, “W, w, w, what are you doing here?”
“Well, I was in the neighbourhood and I just thought I’d swing by and drop this off.” I said, acting cool while I handed his passport over.
“What? But aren’t you…?” I guess it’s not everyday you wake up to find somebody at your door who’s traveled halfway around the world to surprise hand-deliver an easily mailable object. A silent stare forced him to speak.
“So, you’re staying here for a while I guess…”
I continued my silent stare. Then blinked. He took it as a ‘yes’.
“Well, you’ll probably want to hear about this then,” he said raising his left hand to reveal a fresh cast. “I was really hammered last night and I got kicked out of the bar. Being angry, I decided to vent my frustration on the side window of a parked car. The window won. It’s intact, but I broke my hand in two places. I’ve got a job delivering pizzas on a scooter but I can’t really work right now – do you want the job?”
This was my moment of Zen. I knew my exact place in the world. I was born to deliver.

Now a multi-continental marginally-legal passport porting odyssey sandwiched between pizza delivery jobs seemed impossible to top, but ten months later as I bit into my ham and egg sandwich in the basement of a Youth Hostel in Edmonton, Alberta, I overheard the following conversation, “Sorry, but, where is dis city bus dat’s taking us to da Greyhound station?”
A pair of Quebecoise girls stood in front of a Japanese guy preparing instant noodles. The guy, obviously unfamiliar with French Canadian English, looked at his noodles for inspiration, managing, “Sowry, I…uh, no Engrish.”
I stepped in to save the day.
“Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt your, uh, conversation, but are you trying to get to the Greyhound station?”
The nearest girl, the most fluent in English of the pair, turned to face me.”
“Oui…I mean, yes, we is.”
This was the chance I’d been looking for. It’d been months since I’d made my last delivery, especially one consisting of cute girls with even cuter accents.
“Forget the city bus. I’ve got a car, I can drive you there.”
“Is you sure? It’s no problem for us to take da city bus.”
“I insist. Besides, I’m not sure if the buses still run at this hour.”
“Hokay den, we ride wit you. Eh, what kind of sandwich is dat?
“Ham and egg.”
“I love am and hegg sandwiches. Dees are mon favori. We ave some for da bus ride.”
I dropped them off at the Greyhound station later that evening. They thanked me for the delivery and said with hope in their eyes, “Maybe you come to visit us in Quebec some time, Oui?”
“Yes, maybe I will”
Six months later I showed up at Dominique’s door. The same door I currently stared at from my recovery perch on the couch. It’s not often you meet the girl of your dreams because of a delivery. Rarer still a delivery to the Greyhound station. Not many people can say they ended their first date with a girl by tossing her on a bus that crossed three time zones. Romance at its finest.
As my back slowly improved I began to lurch around the apartment. Dom’s job as a flight attendant put her on a four-day hiatus, and I’d spent the last few days alone, and had developed a moderate case of apartment fever. I had to get out. I looked through the window to see rain falling. A perfect day to go to the Librar…I mean bookstore.
Jobless but ready for inspiration, I limped into the “Career” section in search of the perfect book to inspire my return to the workforce. My curiosity was satisfied with such italicized, bold titles as 1000 Best Job Hunting Secrets, Job Search Secrets: 301 That Can Work for You!, and Be Hunted! 12 Secrets to Getting on the Headhunter's Radar Screen. From the look of these books, job hunting promised to be a high paced challenge of the most exciting order. Still injured from the dishwasher incident, I wasn’t sure I was healthy enough to tackle all these easy-to-remember numbers, insider secrets or unpredictable placement of exclamation points. After being nearly knocked to the floor by a book titled 10 Insider Secrets(TM) Career Transition Workshop: Discover Your Ideal Job In 24 Hours - Or Less! I decided take a break from the exciting fast-paced world of reading about how to find a job and build up my stamina with some lighter material.
I wandered to the ‘light’ section of the store in search of a book without numbers, insider secrets nor exclamation marks. The first book to partially meet the criteria was a book called Dave Gorman’s Googlewhack! Adventure. A good start, I thought, no number. I picked it up and read the blurb to discover that Googlewhack! was the true story of how the life of Englishman Dave Gorman became overtaken by an internet game called Googlewhacking. Googlewhacking, apparently, is a game where players look for two words that lead to a single website on Google. Dave became involved in the game to epic proportions and had himself quite the adventure in the process. He visited people all over the planet to eventually find a chain of 10 “whacks” to complete a self-imposed challenge. Upon sight of the number 10, I nearly dropped the book, but realized that if Dave was smart enough to keep the magical number absent from the cover and hadn’t yet offered any insider secrets, Googlewhack! was worthy of a more thorough read.
Eight hours later I finished the last page, closed the book and looked up to see streetlights illuminated. The store was deserted. I’d just read Googlewhack! from cover to cover. For the first time in my life, a book had blown me away. Dave both entertained and inspired, without a cover-mounted easy-to-remember number or a single insider secret. Sure, he’d enticed me into his riveting adventure with an exclamation point, but I was ready to let it slide. One thing was tugging at my conscience though, for the first time in my life, I’d just read an entire book in a bookstore. It seemed stupid to proceed to buy the book after already reading it, but Dave’s expert telling of his Googlewhack! adventure demanded such a purchase. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a single dollar, or more importantly, a single credit card with me. I felt guilty and started to think of somebody I knew who would enjoy a good read. More importantly somebody who would buy a good read, exclamation point-clad at that. But who could I think of? I stared at the italicized exclamation point on the cover for a moment. Yes, that was it; I knew exactly who would enjoy the book. I pulled out my phone and made the call.
“Mom, there’s this book you have to read.”
“Oh really! What is it?!”
“Dave Gorman’s Googlewhack! Adventure.”
“Googlewhat?!”
“Googlewhack!”
“Oh! That sounds Fun!”
“It is fun. You’ll love it.”
“Fun! I’ll buy it tomorrow!”
My Mom’s most favourite word ever is “Fun!” (Not “fun”, or “fun”, but “Fun!”) Nothing excites her more than adding an exclamation point to a word, especially fun. Her exclamation points are viral, even grocery lists aren’t safe. Rare were the days as a child I would glance upon the fridge not to find a piece of paper scribbled with such gems as Eggs!, Milk! or my personal favourite, Soy Sauce! Believe me, she’s not crazy, just “Fun!”
So I’d done my good deeds for the day. Dave Gorman got his royalty, the bookstore made their cut and Mom had another reason to write down an exclamation point. Everybody wins. Except me - I still didn’t have a job.
I grudgingly gravitated back towards the Career section, but halfway there, a curious title caught my eye. On an obscure shelf sat a small brown book entitled The Kindness of Strangers, with a foreword by the Dalai Lama. I recalled how Dave Gorman relied on the kindness of strangers to complete his Googlewhack! adventure, so the title struck me as a perfect fit to my current frame of mind. More importantly, the book didn’t have a single number or exclamation mark on the cover, which was reason enough to delay my entry to the Career section. After all, I still had stamina to build. I read the Dalai Lama’s introduction, an introduction that was if nothing else, very kind. Hungry for further kindness, and strangers, I flipped to a story called “Special Delivery” by Lindsy Van Gelder. Lindsy explained how she visited Floreana Island in the “ass end” of the Galapagos archipelago and came across an amazing cultural phenomenon known as the Post Office Barrel. Tourists place a postcard addressed to a family member or a friend in the barrel then rummage through it to find a postcard they can personally hand-deliver. To quote Lindsy: “The barrel is a descendant of one installed in the 18th century by whaling crews. In those days it was an optimally efficient system: Sailors who were passing through checked the mailbox for letters addressed to their ships' ports of call.” No stamps are involved whatsoever. The system works solely on the kindness of strangers who hand-deliver the messages. Lindsy found a postcard with a picture of frolicking sea lions on the front addressed to ‘Gina’ in Italy, and hand-delivered the postcard to Gina later that year on a trip to Venice. Unsurprisingly, Gina turned out to be a kind stranger. I was touched with the simplicity and heart-warming aspect of story, but something else was on my mind. Assuming Lindsy wasn’t one to pull the wool over the Dalai Lama’s eyes, on a deserted beach on an island in a remote stretch of the Pacific Ocean sat a barrel filled with postcards just waiting to be delivered. Thanks to the Lama-approved insider secret provided by a Mrs. Lindsy Van Gelder, I had just discovered the most perfect delivery job I could possibly imagine. Apparently all I needed to do was get my ass to the ass end of the Galapagos and start delivering the mail. But I didn’t really know where the barrel was, just that it was on a beach on Floreana island, which was somewhere off the coast of South America. I had to find an Atlas and further research the area. That, unfortunately, would have to wait for another day, it was 11pm, the approaching security guard tapping his watch meant only one thing; the bookstore was closed.
As I trudged homeward along the sidewalk I happened upon a box filled to the brim with books. Remembering how all unemployed people must rummage through a box of free stuff, and then take an item; I reached into the box to uncover my fate. There were various dusty titles of little importance or relevance; an old stack of musty muscle car magazines, some faded French harlequin romance novels. Just as I was about to leave and break the packrat tradition of the unemployed, a glossy green book caught my eye. I brought the book into the streetlight for closer inspection. When I saw the title, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. It was a Lonely Planet guidebook. The edition for Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands. I flicked open the book to a map of the Galapagos Islands. There it was: Floreana Island, as promised, in the “ass end” of the archipelago. Now if there is one thing I know after four years spent studying Geography, it’s maps. But this was no ordinary map, oh no, this was more than that. This was a treasure map. The treasure marked on the map was more important than a box of gold bullion or precious stones could ever provide. The treasure was a job. A job with a purpose. A delivery job. Finally, I could satisfy the doubts of the legions of people who’d screwed up their face with confusion and exclaimed “Yeah, but what are you going to do with a Bachelor of Arts in Geography?” Now, I could look them straight in the eye, point to my treasure map and say with delight, “This.” I tucked the book under my arm and walked off, content to find my raison d’être and further the time-honoured tradition of the unemployed person who takes an item from a box on the sidewalk.
Everything seemed to line up. It all seemed so simple, so easy, so perfect. But then I remembered something that struck fear into my heart: Dave Gorman. If I wanted my postcard delivering dream job, I’d need to act fast. Surely within a matter of hours, he’d catch wind of this barrel and be on the next flight to the Galapagos to scoop up the postcards, along with my job. If I wanted to secure employment and not get job whacked, I had to get to the Galapagos. Fast.

Chapter 2: Getting ‘Points’

Now, I had few, or more accurately, zero dollars set aside for a job-hunting expedition to Ecuador. However, over the last few years, every single purchase I made was with my credit card in order to earn frequent flyer points. And by every purchase I mean every purchase. Countless trees were felled to provide paper for my monthly statements. Sure, maybe the odd father was made late to his daughter’s school play as I applied my John Hancock to the heat transfer paper receipt to secure payment of an Almond Mars bar, but by now I had enough points for two free plane tickets to South America. And an Almond Mars bar.
Unfortunately, Dom’s airline isn’t one of those multi-continental world spanning super airlines part of a giant stellar alliance able to provide free flights anywhere, anytime. No, hers is the sort of cheery-faced budget airline that you cross your fingers when you log onto the website to buy a ticket at 11:59 pm because by midnight you might find the company has just closed shop and left thousands without a job and thousands more passengers stranded at airports all over the continent. I’d love nothing more than to secretly know that she has high-seniority in a mega airline that provided us with countless complimentary weekend excursions to far-flung exotic locations, opening up a giant plot hole to prove you correct in the process, but that just isn’t the case. Her airline doesn’t even provide free water.
Since work kept Dom away from home for days at a time, I became wildly absorbed in the project. I searched high and low for information on the Galapagos and the Post Office Barrel and put a large red X on the guidebook map in the exact spot the barrel stood.
I considered the plan briefly, but felt uneasy about it all. Something seemed wrong. I couldn’t just take all those postcards from the barrel and deliver them without somehow contributing postcards to the barrel. To feel good about the scheme, I’d have to replenish the barrel with at least as many postcards as I planned to take. It was simple karma. Postcard karma. Postkarma. I embarked on a campaign to drum up postcards.
I set up www.messageinabarrel.com, which was a deplorable inexperienced html hack fest to say the least. It outlined the concept of the Post Office Barrel and how it was possible for anyone and everyone to get their postcard in the barrel by mailing it to my P.O. Box. Anyone with postage could get their postcard taken to the Galapagos and left there for a kind stranger to hand-deliver to them a later date. I created a press release that explained the project thoroughly and proceeded to spam the idea to dozens of email addresses scoured from the ‘contact’ section of newspaper and radio station websites. Within minutes, replies to the press release email spam campaign began to fill my inbox. Most contained eye pleasing statements like “Get me off this stupid list” or “You are a loser, don’t send me another email ever again.”, that sort of thing. However, between the promises that what I was doing was “Stupidly illegal” and “I am going to notify the Interpol spam-police”, I was confronted by a few individuals intrigued by the idea. Most simply wanted to know more about the project and how to correctly fill out their postcards. I received a call from Peter Anthony Holder, a veritable legend in the English media world of Montreal, “Do you want to come on the radio and talk about this thing?” At 11pm the next night, I found myself offering the English, AM talk radio-listening masses of Greater Montreal a complete and thorough outline of the project. Not the largest audience, if you consider that Montreal is the second largest Francophone city in the world after Paris, but it was a start. Within days the first postcards began to roll in.
Oblivious to my plan, Dom returned home with an arsenal of job-hunting tips, free of charge. I’d previously tried to introduce my postcard plan by offering a long monologue about how delivery was the one job I truly enjoyed and believed I was good at, but I balked when it came to the whole “fly to a remote island in the Pacific on a whim” aspect of the plan. Over a steaming stack of crepes coated in maple syrup, Dom offered encouragement.
“Kyee. What about dees bike guys, you know dem guys wit dees packages and dos bisicles?”
“What, bike couriers?”
“Yes, dees guys. Why don’t you hask for a job wit dees guys? You can deliver stuff hon a bisicle? ”
“Nah, too bikey.”
No, that’s not a mouth filled with crepes, that’s Dom’s unquestionably thick Quebecoise accent. Well to be honest, it’s not much of an accent, but more of a haccent. ‘Er haccent is nowhere near as tick as my Hinglish haccent when I speak French, but since I wrote dis story in hinglish, I get to sock it to ‘er. However, from this point on, for the sake of your eyes, our bi-cultural relationship and my spell checker, I’ll spell everything in real English. But remember, it looks good on paper, but behind the scenes unbelievable linguistic treachery is taking place.
“Well then Kyle, what about a job as a regular courier?”
“I can’t, I don’t look good in brown shorts.”
“What? What do you mean brown shorts?”
“You know, those courier guys always wear brown shorts.”
“Brown shorts?”
“Yeah, I don’t know why, that’s just what they do.”
“But it’s winter.”
“Not for long.”
“Okay, so spring is on its way. Why don’t you drive an ice cream van? I’m sure they’re already looking for summer drivers.”
“Dom, ice cream van drivers don’t deliver, they distribute.”
“What’s the difference?”
I looked at her with disgust. I was going to deliver, not distribute, that much I knew for sure. I glanced at her with thinly veiled disfavour, saw the falling snow, and said brightly, “Besides, it’s winter.”
“Hey, you’re hiding something from me, aren’t you? All these negative answers, that’s not like you. You’re thinking of something. I know it. What are you thinking of, huh?”
“Nothing.” I said, shifting uncomfortably.
“Yes, there’s something going on up there. I know it.”
“No, there’s nothing. Nothing’s going on.” I said over defensively.
I looked for inspiration to change the subject, “Hey look, it’s snowing.”
Dom sized me up, sharpened her face and delivered an ultimatum. “Enough is enough. You come clean right now, or else.”
“Or else what.”
Her eyes narrowed further. She leaned forward so I could feel her snow-melting breath in my eyes.
“Or else.”
Now, I would love to tell you I stood my ground. After all, like you, I wanted to find out exactly what else was. But I buckled. There were just too many horrible things else might be. I took a deep breath, looked to the sky for inspiration and spilled the beans.

“That is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. Well, a trip to the Galapagos, your treat to me, is a great idea. You’d get serious ‘points’ for doing that, but the rest of it is stupid. Tres stupid.”
“Dom, there are hundreds of postcards sitting in a barrel on an island in the Galapagos, just waiting to be delivered. I deliver! That’s what I do. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to envision all those postcards sitting in that barrel right now, not being delivered? This is the perfect job for me.”
“Okay, how much does this job pay?”
“Well, nothing.”
“What?”
“Nothing. But, if one of the people who I deliver a postcard to wants to hook up a meal or let me crash on the couch, they’re welcome to do so.”
“So, what you’re telling me is that you plan to subsidize the hand-delivery of postcards to people all over the world with donations and free couch accommodation?”
“Yes, but there’s more to it than that. I need to leave the first week of April if I want to deliver the postcards in the barrel.”
“Why?”
“Because Dave Gorman might find out about the postcard barrel.”
“Dave who?”
“Dave Gorman.”
“Who is this? This Dave Gorman?”
So I told her.
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re really out of touch if you think that a random bloke who wrote a random book about random people will decide to visit a random barrel just to hand-deliver postcards to random people.”
“But that’s just it Dom, it’s totally random. In theory anybody can go to the Galapagos and deliver the postcards. Dave Gorman just happens to be the most likely candidate to steal my job.”
“So you’re referring to this as your job now?”
“Of course. I thought of it first, so if you think about it, it’s my job.
She looked over at me with a mischievous grin and dropped a line designed to aggravate: “Not if Dave Gorman gets there first.”
There was only one way to get Dom on board: hit her with everything at once. I booted up the computer, explained my radio experience and how reporters were enticed by the idea. I pulled out postcards from eager participants in Florida and Massachusetts. As the computer came on-line, I logged onto the website and flipped through the few different pages. Over the next few minutes, two things became clear: Dom couldn’t distinguish between a high quality website and a guerrilla-learned html nightmare, and without a doubt, she was slowly becoming impressed by the whole thing.
Upon sight of all the work I’d put into the project, along with the response from others, her mood slowly shifted from borderline outrage to slightly impressed.
“So you set up this website, managed to get on the radio and you now have reporters calling you interested in writing stories about the postcard idea?” she said, postcards in hand. I leaned back in my chair carefully treading along the not-so-fine line between shy and cocky.
“Yeah.”
“And this website is live on the internet right now?”
“Yes.”
A slight look of concern crossed her face, “Viewable to anyone on the planet with an internet connection?”
I didn’t understand her concern. After all, wide exposure was what I was after. Positive postkarma demanded just that.
“Sure, why?”
“Well, it’s just that theoretically at this exact moment, Dave Gorman could log onto the internet and find out about the whole project.”
“Yes, of course, why not?”
“Well, he might have never found out about this postcard barrel ever, but now that you’ve got a website explaining everything, don’t you think you’re playing with fire?
“No, he won’t steal my job now, after all, I’ve gone on the radio with the idea.”
“I think you’re right. You need to go to the Galapagos soon, just to be sure about the job. You’ve gone this far.”
She was with me! There was only one thing left to accomplish: see if she was really with me.
“Do you want to come along?”
“Yes, of course. Who wouldn’t? Now that I see how serious you are about this, I have to admit the whole thing seems a little bit exciting.”
“But what about your job? Can you get the time off?”
“Maybe, but we’re busy right now. I’ll see what I can do. Call me next week on the 15th, right before my new schedule comes out, I might be able to pull some strings.”
“Will do.”

In the meantime, reporters printed articles. The story graced newsprint in such media epicentres as Halifax Nova Scotia, Sacramento California and North New Jersey. I even went live on TV on an English-language morning program in Montreal. Unsurprisingly, or maybe surprisingly, postcards arrived in large quantities.

On the 15th, shortly before midnight, I called Dom. She was in Toronto, or New York, or Los Angeles. “Any news?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, the deadline is in two weeks. People are counting on me to deliver. I’ve got to buy the tickets tonight.”
“You haven’t bought your ticket yet?”
“No.”
“So, you’ve gone on TV, radio and appeared in newspapers all over the continent with a promise to deliver but you don’t have a ticket yet?”
“No, not yet.”
”And this doesn’t bother you? This lying?”
“Aw, come on Dom, I’m not lying. Everything will work out. I’d just like to buy our tickets at the same time.”
“I still need to check with my supervisor. Doesn’t look good right now. You know I want to join you, but if I’m supposed to tag along, my company will give me time off work.”
“Yeah, I know, but I just thought maybe you could pull some strings and make it happen.”
“I’ll try, but no promises. Anyhow, It’s almost midnight. Let me see if next months’ schedules is posted. I’ll call you later.”

At midnight the phone rang. Like many humans, I too am completely irrational in much of my habits, like waiting for the second ring before lifting the receiver on a phone, even if I’m there before the first ring. The phone rang again. I lifted the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hey, guess what.”
“What, you got time off?”
“You’re not going to believe this. The airline just went out of business. Finished. I just checked the website for next month’s shifts and the front page had this big official form letter. Nobody saw it coming. They sold tickets right up to midnight. Four thousand people just lost their jobs. I can come.”
You’ve got to hand it to Dom, she’d either just got the most conveniently-timed layoff in the history of aviation, or she’d somehow managed to put an entire airline out of business to get a free trip to Galapagos.
“I’ll book the tickets right now.”

I called my frequent flyer program. Apparently I didn’t have enough points for two tickets to South America. Just barely not enough. The balance hinged on a handful of candy not yet charged to my credit card, that sort of thing. Just as I was about to rush out to buy a handful of M&Ms, the airline agent came back with good news.
“Actually, Mr. MacDonald, it turns out you’re only 200 points short of the ticket.”
“Yes, and…” I said, envisioning 200 dollars of M&Ms.
“Well, it’s our new policy to honour a shortfall of up to 500 points on all tickets. That means, your account will have a negative balance of 200 points until you purchase more goods on your credit card.”
Now, credit is an absurd concept in itself -- free money for nothing -- but this took the cake. Credit on credit. How can you get a negative balance on points? They’re a spin-off of something that’s not even real. This was like asking somebody selling lottery tickets to front you a few bucks, “Look, I promise to pay you back when I win the jackpot, okay?”
As always, eager to take something labelled “free”, I decided to book the tickets.
“I’ll book the tickets.”
“Great, then you’re all set. Two flights confirmed for April 6th.
“Super.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with tonight sir?”
“You don’t sell lottery tickets do you?”

By this stage, word of mouth had spread the project to more ears. By the April 1st deadline, only 45 days after setting up the website, 646 postcards sat on my desk, with more arriving daily. With this sort of volume I wasn’t just making positive postkarma, I was creating jobs. And if there were two people in the world who needed a job, it was Dom and I. On April 6th, we stuffed the postcards in our backpacks and boarded a Galapagos bound jet. There was only one thing left to do: deliver.

such a nice little blog entry huh?

All postcards mailed to:

Message in a Barrel
P.O. Box # 55067
CSP FAIRMOUNT
Montreal, Quebec
H2T 3E2 Canada

To particiapte write a name, address, email and message on the postcard(s), place inside an envelope and mail to the address above. Send as many postcards as you wish in each envelope. If you do not have any postcards, put the necessary information on a piece of paper and I will transfer the details to a postcard for you. Postcards DO NOT need stamps.

Particpants to date:

first name | city | Country


Tyler | Vancouver | Canada

Daniel | Montreal | Canada

Leonard | Calgary | Canada

Rob | Palatine | USA

Colleen | Belcarra | Canada

Sana | Montreal | Canada

Shirley | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Francois | Montreal | Canada

Nicolas | Montreal | Canada

Ronna | Hartford | USA

Monique | St-Mathieu-Du-Parc | Canada

Jeannette | Coquitlam | Canada

Veronica | Saint Laurent | Canada

Lilian | Madrid | Spain

William | Seattle | USA

Maximiliano | Bruxelles | Belgium

Belen | Madrid | Spain

Adrienne | Madrid | Spain

Emily | West Windsor | USA

Hélène | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Diane | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Colette | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Café Perk Avenue | Montreal | Canada

Gilles | Champlain | Canada

Paulette | Ste-Anne-de-la-Perade | Canada

Hélène | Grand Mère | Canada

Lucia | St. Laurent | Canada

Howard | Colfax | USA

Louise | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Nicole | St-Etienne-des-Grès | Canada

Diane | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Richard & Linda | Lincoln | USA

Assan | Montreal | Canada

Thérèse et Roch | La Tuque | Canada

Kathy | Beaconsfield | Canada

R. | Keswick | Canada

J. | Keswick | Canada

Ghislaine Unant et Michel Landry | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Alberic | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Lucie | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Benjamin | Brooklyn | USA

Hidefusa | Cresskill | USA

Publio | Rio De Janeiro | Brasil

John | New York | USA

Alisan | NYC | USA

Marie | Mahwah | USA

Erin | New York | USA

Seth | Rockaway | USA

Bentally | Brooklyn | USA

Grace | Harlem | USA

Barbara | NYC | USA

Lisa | Brooklyn | USA

Stephanie | San Francisco | USA

Joseph | Nr. Ashford | UK

Evelyn | Coquitlam | Canada

John | London | UK

Gail | Cote St. Luc | Canada

Jose | Buenos Aires | Argentina

Mason | Coquitlam | Canada

C.W. | Maple Ridge | Canada

Micheline | St-Elie | Canada

Scott | Belcarra | Canada

Ryan | Milwaukee | USA

Dave | Victoria | Canada

Colette | Glasgow | Scotland

Colette | Vancouver | Canada

Michael | Glasgow | Scotland

Raymond | Santa Fe | USA

Brendan | Manchester | USA

Luis | Bronx | USA

Houng | Far Rockaway | USA

Ray | Queens | USA

Aaron | NYC | USA

James | NYC | USA

Rachel | Manhattan | USA

John | New York | USA

Benjamin | Brooklyn | USA

Evian | Port Coquitlam | Canada

André | Montreal | Canada

Darren | East Seaham | Australia

Leonard | Calgary | Canada

Ian | Belcarra | Canada

Menachem | Montreal | Canada

Paul | Victoria | Canada

Carmen | Coquitlam | Canada

Karine | Dollard-Des-Ormeaux | Canada

Emily | Cambridge | USA

David | Boise | USA

Sandra and Stan | Dollard-Des-Ormeaux | Canada

Evan | Nepean | Canada

Tara | Vancouver | Canada

Shari Ann | Montreal | Canada

Elie | Edinburgh | UK

Marian | Montreal | Canada

Gerald & Lori | Ottawa | Canada

Diana | Belcarra | Canada

Cheryl | Belcarra | Canada

| |

Brian | Vancouver | Canada

Raymond | Roxboro | Canada

Carolyn | Arcadia | USA

Katie | Berlin | USA

Meghan | Berlin | USA

Eddie & Sweetie | Arcadia | USA

Stephen & Nita | Barrington | USA

Daven & Jose Ann | Spanish Fork | USA

William & Annette | Runnemede | USA

Carolyn | Arcadia | USA

Marianne | Arcadia | USA

John, Marianne & Johnny | St. Augustine | USA

Marie | Montreal | Canada

A. | Montreal | Canada

Luc | Montreal | Canada

Sue | Dollard-Des-Ormeaux | Canada

David | Ithaca | USA

Jane + Wade | Beaconsfield | Canada

Suzanne | Lachine | Canada

David | Montreal | Canada

Ron | Montreal | Canada

Sheila | Lasalle | Canada

Matt | Berkshire | England

Chantal | Luskville | Canada

Dick's | Luskville | Canada

Gina | Pitt Meadows | Canada

Wendy | Montreal | Canada

Michael & Ashley | Chateauguay | Canada

D. | Richmond | Canada

Carol | Port Coquitlam | Canada

Maria | Coquitlam | Canada

Ron | Port Coquitlam | Canada

Blago | Vancouver | Canada

Magdalene | Coquitlam | Canada

Brad | Toluca Lake | USA

Micheal | Brooklyn | USA

Tyler | Hackensack | USA

Joe | Genesco | USA

Kirstin | Oakland | USA

Joe | Minneapolis | USA

Joline | Lauderdale | USA

Courtney | Lakeville | USA

Briony | Minneapolis | USA

Travis | St. Cloud | USA

Marcus | Minneapolis | USA

Liz | Minneapolis | USA

George | Kyiv | Ukraine

Marta | Montreal | Canada

T.M. | | Hong Kong

Yanly | Brossard | Canada

Muriel | Lachine | Canada

Stephen | Port Moody | Canada

Tony | Port Moody | Canada

Ditta | Port Moody | Canada

Jen | Vancouver | Canada

Nancy | Ottawa | Canada

Mitchell | Calgary | Canada

Joey and Leo | Ottawa | Canada

Meghan | Stratford | Canada

Stuart | Toronto | Canada

Hugh & Kathleen | Lower Sackville | Canada

Bernadette | Montreal | Canada

| Brooklyn | USA

Stephanie | St. Catherines | Canada

Jeanette & Jim | Maple Ridge | Canada

Tony & Dita | Port Moody | Canada

Bonnie | Lone Butte / 100 Mile house | Canada

Mark | Willimantic | USA

Denise | Chicago | USA

Cathy & Fraser | Belcarra | Canada

Ingrid | Munchen | Germany

Taylor | Woodbury | USA

Franki | Oakland | USA

Jacueline | St. Boniface | Canada

Dave | New York | USA

Lavonne | Citrus Heights | USA

Caroline | St. Paulin | Canada

H. | New York | USA

Ruth & Bob | Port Moody | Canada

Maryann & John | Belcarra | Canada

Andy | Allambie | Australia

Bruce & Bev | Port Moody | Canada

Lorna & Ray | Coquitlam | Canada

Cheryl & Bill | Belcarra | Canada

Thelma | Rocklin | USA

Anne | Sacramento | USA

Jim Parent & Maria Rivas | Walnut Creek | USA

Asha | Sacramento | USA

Sheri | Kennewick | USA

Matt | Calgary | Canada

Marge & Bill | IONE | USA

Helene & Joel | Mason | USA

Jodie | Westland | USA

Jessie | Rochester Hills | USA

Karmen & Bill | Jonesville | USA

Deidre | Brandon | Canada

Laura | Montreal | Canada

Joanne | Loomis | USA

Shanu | Vancouver | Canada

Chris | Ridgewood | USA

Emmalee | Kennewick | USA

Mira | Montreal | Canada

Loren & Jean | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Kevin | London | UK

Sandy | Foresthill | USA

Julie | Norwalk | USA

Maria | Borooklyn | USA

Kev, Flo, Shane & Stephanie | Carmichael | USA

Carolyne | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Anne | Anmore | Canada

Lesa | Asheville | USA

Lesa | Pembroke | Malta

Jen | Hewitt | USA

Rebecca | San Antonio | USA

Dirk | Saint Eustache | Canada

Louise | Saint Eustache | Canada

Lucie | Louiseville | Canada

Cecile | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Laurianne | St. Paulin | Canada

Dan | Victoria | Canada

Sheila | St. Anicet | Canada

Fay | Sacramento | USA

Dawna | Calgary | Canada

Lewis | Nanton | Canada

Katie | Hinkley | UK

Michelle | Hinkley | UK

Lisa | Solihull | UK

Hannah | Westgate-on-Sea, Thanet | UK

Susie | Tunbridge Wells | UK

Aubrey | Reading | UK

Lucy | Hornchurch | UK

Kelly | Codsall | UK

Anna | Bury-St. Edmunds | UK

Suzanne | Deanswalk | UK

Allen | Seattle | USA

Dane | Kiama Downs | Australia

Rebecca | Hinckley | UK

Rebecca | Hinckley | UK

Laura | Hinckley | UK

Mr and Mrs T.K. | Hinckley | UK

Isabelle | St-Barnabe Nord | Canada

Suzy | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Nathalie | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Line | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Annie | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Zoe | St-Paulin | Canada

Clovis | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Guylaine | St-Paulin | Canada

Carmen | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Carole | Laval | Canada

Anne | Sacramento | USA

Nadine & Paul | Aylmer | Canada

Jay Turner or Marilyn Hayden | Calgary | Canada

Diane | Denmark | Australia

Frank | Diessen | Germany

Dave & Toey | Kamloops | Canada

Ron & Jeanette | Coquitlam | Canada

Stan & Karen | Coquitlam | Canada

Donna & Laurie | Delta | Canada

Bill & Diane | Belcarra | Canada

Richard | Vancouver | Canada

Carm and Ricky | Coquitlam | Canada

Henry | Richmond | Canada

Larry & Vicky | Belcarra | Canada

Ron & Janet | Coquitlam | Canada

Kevin & Jill | Kirkland | USA

Judi | Belcarra | Canada

Brian | Vancouver | Canada

Brad & Carla | Coquitlam | Canada

Patti & Norbert | Surrey | Canada

Gloria & Iain | Surrey | Canada

Martin | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Carolyne | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Jennifer | Sacramento | USA

Dolly | Wolcott | USA

Patricia | Notre Dame du Mont Carmel | Canada

Andre | La Croche | Canada

| Carmichael | USA

Tiziana | Venezia-Mestre | Italia

Dr. Hope | Montreal | Canada

Philip | Vancouver | Canada

Gary & Anne | Anmore | Canada

Dave & Dana | Sechelt | Canada

Ken & Karylu | Belcarra | Canada

Harold | Coquitlam | Canada

Scott & Joanne | Port Moody | Canada

Evelyn & Pete | Burnaby | Canada

Prim & Locky | Coquitlam | Canada

Mary | Coquitlam | Canada

Maureen & Mike | Coquitlam | Canada

Janet & Peter | Burnaby | Canada

Lynn | Coquitlam | Canada

Joan & Don | Nelson | Canada

Ina | Dorchester | UK

Barb & Al | Claresholm | Canada

Ashley | Delta | Canada

Francien & Danny | Coquitlam | Canada

Stuart & Julie | Surrey | Canada

Larry & Georgina | Calgary | Canada

Morris & Gay | Port Moody | Canada

Kirk & Marianne | Coquitlam | Canada

Jill | Neots, Cambridge | UK

Georges | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Madison & McKinsey | Charlo | USA

Francien | Coquitlam | Canada

Mirielle | Montreal | Canada

Jorge | V region | Chile

Dominique | Wavre | Belgique

Ronnie | Pierrefonds | Canada

Debbie & Lenny | Montreal | Canada

Morris | Montreal | Canada

Elise | Montreal | Canada

Micheline | Montreal | Canada

Alan & Donna | Vancouver | Canada

Kay | |

Franey / Chisolm | Vancouver | Canada

Stephania | Montreal | Canada

Sandy | Surrey | Canada

Elaine | Montreal | Canada

Melissa | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Kim | Roseville | USA

Keelan | Montreal | Canada

Brendan | Montreal | Canada

Marty | Markham | Canada

Kaiko Okawa & Randal Smith | London | England

Barbara | Burnaby | Canada

Annie | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Sherry | Adrossan | Canada

Brookswood Chiropractic Office | Langley | Canada

Ryan | Belcarra | Canada

Garry & Jolaine | Kelowna | Canada

Tianna | Belcarra | Canada

Serene | Singapore | Republic of Singapore

Serene | Wien | Austria

Debby | Vancouver | Canada

Melissa & Quin | Stratford | Canada

McNeil's | Stratford | Canada

Eepy | Port Coquitlam | Canada

Jean | Yreka | USA

France | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Danielle & Kathryn | Roseville | USA

Frankie | |

Melissa | Caulfield Sth. | Australia

Silke | Hamburg | Germany

Andy | Burlington | Canada

Cindy | Kakabeka Falls | Canada

Sheila & Daryl | Parks | USA

The McNeill Family | Lafayette | USA

Georgina | Calgary | Canada

Anne-Marie | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Martin | Cap de la Madeline | Canada

Marie-Lou | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

ti-cul | Mascouche | Canada

Momsy | Mascouche | Canada

Mathieu | Laval | Canada

Mary Anne | Nepean | Canada

Zyanna | Montreal | Canada

Christine | Westmount | Canada

J. Mark | Niagara Falls | Canada

Micheline | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Norma | Abbotsford | Canada

Amy | Nanaimo | Canada

Sandy | Santa Rosa | USA

Anne | Sacramento | USA

Kathy | Santa Rosa | USA

Tina | East Freedom | USA

Marlene | Carlton Plcae | Canada

Jane | Albequerque | USA

Jerimiah | East Freedom | USA

Edna | Beaverdale | USA

Jim | Reno | USA

Dave | Piedmont | USA

Bob | Suisun | USA

Daniel | St-Georges-de-Champlain | Canada

4th Grade USA Project | | USA

Curt | Craftsbury | USA

Tiziana | Venezia-Mestre | Italia

Michael & Carol | Swanville (near Belfast) Waldo County | USA

Nicholas | Studio City, Hollywood Hills | USA

Stefan | Fair Lawn, Bergen County | USA

Simon | Fair Lawn, Bergen County | USA

Lise le ossette | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Mr. S. | Orleans | Canada

Ms. S. | Nepean | Canada

Edna | Yreka | USA

Rene | Weslaco | USA

James | Belcarra | Canada

Share family and Community Services | Port Moody | Canada

Port Moody Arts Centre | Port Moody | Canada

Terry | Belcarra | Canada

The Fraser Institute | Vancouver | Canada

The Coquitlam Now | Coquitlam | Canada

Tri-City News | Port Coquitlam | Canada

Tzu Chi Budhists | Vancouver | Canada

Lady BatChic | Gananoque | Canada

Andy and Cristelle | Vaurles | France

Gay | Bollaud | Belgique

Marie | Bollaud | Belgique

Marc | St-Barnabe Nord | Canada

Monique | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Thompson | Miami | USA

Sasha | New York | USA

Ms.Ethel | Placerville | USA

Denise | Burnaby | Canada

C.Z. | SanJose | USA

Jim | Bristol | USA

Tamara | Kitimat | Canada

Brenda | Richmond | Canada

Genevieve | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Louise | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Charly | St-Boniface | Canada

Justine | St-Boniface | Canada

Zachary | St-Boniface | Canada

Luc | St-Boniface | Canada

John | Montreal | Canada

Bounsoum | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Schoko Casana Rosso | Berlin | Germany

Howard and Penny | Sacramento | USA

Joanne and Robbie | Sterling | USA

Rudiger | Euskirchen | Germany

Kim | Fredericton | Canada

Mr. Stebbings | Kitchener | Canada

Jenny | Fredericton | Canada

Birgit | Vancouver | Canada

Baby Macdonald | Brooks | Canada

Sadie | Meteghan River | Canada

Bob | New Germany | Canada

Dona | Kamloops | Canada

Jay | Jersey City | USA

Joan | Boissevain | Canada

Elizabeth | Brampton | Canada

Veronique | St-Paulin | Canada

Olivier | Montreal | Canada

Elanor | Port Alberni | Canada

Sonya | Winter Park | USA

Richard | Lantana | USA

Nancy | Orlando | USA

Susan | Sloatsburg | USA

Brenda Scritt @ Jeff Rempel | Altona | Canada

Georgie | Calgary | Canada

Margaret | Salmon Arm | Canada

Mary | Odessa | Canada

Mia | Ljubljana | Slovenia

Lesli | San Diego | USA

Kamie | Montreal | Canada

Helene | Trois-Rivieres | Canada

Maggie | North Vancouver | Canada

Dan | | Canada

Steve | Vancouver | Canada

Veronique | Vancouver | Canada

Jean-Pierre | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Jean-Philippe | St-Alexis-des-Monts | Canada

Andrew | Port Moody | Canada

Matt | Victoria | Canada

Audrey | Montreal | Canada

Marie-Eve | Montreal | Canada

Gaetan | Montreal | Canada

Paul & Lena | Toronto | Canada

Kent | Rigetown | Canada

Lorraine | Saskatoon | Canada

Sadie | Montreal | Canada

Nathalie | Charette | Canada

Rheaume | Charette | Canada

Philippe | St-Barnabe Nord | Canada

Yohan | St-Elie | Canada

Laura | Shawinigan-Sud | Canada

Gabriel | Shawinigan-Sud | Canada

Leandre | St-Boniface de Shawinigan | Canada

Julien | Shawinigan | Canada

Antoine | Charette | Canada

Gabrielle | St-Barnabe Nord | Canada

Adjany-Marion | Charette | Canada

Savannah | Charette | Canada

Jean-Sebastien | St-Barnabe | Canada

Joelle | Montreal | Canada

William | Charette | Canada

Ken & Barbara | Qualicum Beach | Canada

Janette | Edmonton | Canada

Sharon | Toronto | Canada

Heather | Toronto | Canada

Justine | Montreal | Canada

Erika | Mississaugua | Canada

Department of Geography | Waterloo | Canada

Baby Richards #1 | Sydney | Canada

Amanda | Sydney | Canada

Karen | New York | USA

Karen | Mira | Canada

Rob | Co. Offaly | Ireland

Geri | River Deny, Cape Breton | Canada

Ms. Maureen | Perth-Andover | Canada

R.J. | Calgary | Canada

Luscombe Family | Brisbane | Australia

Rocky | Calgary | Canada

Carter Family | Calgary | Canada

June | Houston | USA

Ray | Prince George | Canada

Ayden | Prince George | Canada

Farron | Belcarra | Canada

Lynne | Grindrod | Canada

Celia | Victoria | Canada

Karen | Kitchener | Canada

Murray | Kitchener | Canada

Kathy | Cambrige | Canada

Stebbings | Breslay | Canada

Myriam | Winipeg | Canada

Erin | Richmond | USA

Karen | Richmond | USA

Karen | Gaithersburg | USA

Kim | Richmond | USA

Ungerleider | Vancouver | Canada

Jessie | Los Angeles | USA

Janet | Belcarra | Canada

Lance Neveau, Treena Call & Ben | N.D.G. | Canada

The Neveau-Geene Family | Mount Albert | Canada

Ros | Scarborough | Canada

Emily | Belcarra | Canada

Phil | Long Butte | Canada

Derek & Alison | London | Canada

Tina | Petawawa | Canada

Cheryl | Orangeville | Canada

Ron | Belcarra | Canada

Mariann | Brooklyn | USA

Mary | Ottawa | Canada

Amit, Noa, Daniel, Ido | Upper Galilee | Israel

Nicole | Waterloo | Canada

Richard Polt & Julie Gifford | Cincinatti | USA

Suchita | Bangalore | India

Dr. Eva | Regensburg | Germany

Nancy | Etobicoke | Canada

Jane | Toronto | Canada

Lynn | Oakville | Canada

Mitchell | Windsor | Canada

Pat | Windsor | Canada

Malcolm | Windsor | Canada

Taylor | Windsor | Canada

I. | Vernon | Canada

Peters | Halifax | Canada

Margaret | Auckland | New Zealand

Ryan | St. John | Canada

Sarah | Wolfville | Canada

Patty | Kingston | Canada

J. | Whistler | Canada

Elly | | Singapore

Henry | Salinas | USA

Dana | Toronto | Canada

Howard | Winnipeg | Canada

Jim / Al | Stratford | Canada

Danielle | Vancouver | Canada

Paul | Port Colbourne | Canada

The Edgars | Oakville | Canada

The Farises | Port Colbourne | Canada

Ms. Kate & Master Michael | Port Colbourne | Canada

Mrs. Martha | Salamanca | Spain

Melanie | St.-Etienne-Des-Gre | Canada

Janice | London | UK

Maria | Montreal W | Canada

The Turner Family | Calgary | Canada

Edward | Alcove | Canada

S. | Victoria | Canada

Miss Elise | Comox | Canada

Miss Marielle | Victoria | Canada

Lois | Hueysville | USA

Colleen Tew & Bob Panchyson | Burlington | Canada

Annette | Sturry / Kent | England

Ron & Judy | Upper Hutt | New Zealand

Diane | London | Canada

Nate | Wichita | USA

David | Corner Brook | Canada

Don & Linda | Corner Brook | Canada

Dale | Victoria | Canada

Ernie | Banff | Canada

Marlene | Corner Brook | Canada

Anthony | Winnipeg | Canada

Ted | Winnipeg | Canada

Michelle | Naperville | USA

Sarah | Downers Grove | USA

Pat | Coldwater | Canada

The Craddocks | Elmvale | Canada

The Youngs | Phelpston | Canada

The Pringles | Phelpston | Canada

The Olsen's | Coldwater | Canada

The King Kids | Elmvale | Canada

Sheila | Victoria | Canada

The Loftu's | Elmvale | Canada

Ms. Emma | Baysville | Canada

McLean Family | Barrie | Canada

The Dunec Family | Barrie | Canada

The Young's | Fort McMurray | Canada

Bill and Laura | Fort McMurray | Canada

The Jones | Coldwater | Canada

Malloy Boys | Woodstock | Canada

Mary | Phelpston | Canada

J | Victoria | Canada

Lesley | Wollongong | Australia

Mary | Mission | Canada

Sybele | Aachen | Germany

John | London | UK

Brian | Victoria | Canada

Brigitte | Saint-Jean-Sur-Richelle | Canada

Catoo n Claude | Quebec | Canada

Les Girlz | Montreal | Canada

Anouk | Montreal | Canada

Yves | Montreal | Canada

Brigitte | Montreal | Canada

Gaetan | Montreal | Canada

Steph & Phil | Montreal | Canada

Carl | Montreal | Canada

Miss M | Vancouver | Canada

Leigh & Christian | Calgary | Canada

Ms. Ann | Duncan | Canada

Mr. Ant | Glasgow | Scotland

Jessie | Stonewall | Canada

Mickey | Stonewall | Canada

Braydon | Stonewall | Canada

Bronwyn | University of Queensland | Australia

Chan Nim Chi (Rebecca) | | Macau

Spruce Avenue School | Edmonton | Canada

Grandma | Edmonton | Canada

Greg | Edmonton | Canada

Alan | Ottawa | Canada

Athens Backpackers | Athens | Greece

Chris | Mirthios, Rethymno, Crete | Greece

Lefebure | Victoria | Canada

Sarah Lefeburne & David Warriner | Quebec | Canada

Peytra | Smithers | Canada

Lisa de Leon | Austin | USA

Jillian | Edmonton | Canada

Allan | Dollard-Des-Ormeaux | Canada

Leslie | North Vancouver | Canada

D. Hallam | Breton | Canada

The Kenny Family | Dublin | Ireland

Kris, Dan & Shana | Prince Albert | Canada

Francine | Dollard-Des-Ormeaux | Canada

Linda | Gander | Canada

Leo | Toronto | Canada

Delta Sr. Alt. Program | Delta | Canada

Alexandra | Delta | Canada

Jonathan | Delta | Canada

Shane | Delta | Canada

Riley | Delta | Canada

Michael | Delta | Canada

Jamie Joe | Auckland | New Zealand

Tiffany | Anchorage | USA

Ms. Kaytee | Ottawa | Canada

Heather | Delta | Canada

Natalie | Coquitlam | Canada

Denis | Keri Keri | New Zealand

Soroya | New York | USA

Joanna | Brooklyn | USA

Rani | Brooklyn | USA

Betty | Bayside | USA

| |

TCS | Toronto | Canada

B + J | Port Hope | Canada

The Macdonalds | Burnaby | Canada

Janet | Vincent | Australia

Sue | Cameron Park | USA

Kate | Halifax | Canada

Phyllis | Park Ridge | USA

Keegan | Sacramento | USA

Mitchell | Windsor | Canada

Michael | Vancouver |

Cheryl | Orangeville |

Jo | Greenhithe, Auckland | New Zealand

Billy | Montreal | Canada

Sarah | Hoboken | USA

click on image to enlarge

Do you wanna set up your own barrel? Go for it! There are ONLY THREE RULES for an official postcard barrel:

1. Somewhere on or near the barrel the following must be clearly indicated: "ONLY TAKE POSTCARDS THAT YOU INTEND TO HAND DELIVER - NO MAILING PLEASE!"

2. The barrel must have WWW.MESSAGEINABARREL.COM on or near it so people know about this awesome site

3. You MUST have fun.

So, what are you waiting for?! Go set up your barrel and send me a picture of it so I can post it on this site and people can start hand-delivering postcards!!

So far we've got barrels set up in:

#1
Floreana Island, Galapagos Islands, Ecuador
The original post office barrel. This is the orignial barrel. It's over 200 years old! (not an offical Message in a Barrel Postcard Barrel - this is the original and holy grail of all postcard barrels. It is the postcard barrel Mecca!)



#2
Crete, Greece
The first official "Message in a Barrel" Postcard barrel!
This barrel can be found at Youth Hostel Plakias, the most southerly hostel in Europe. www.yhplakias.com


#3 - NEW!!---
Port Moody, BC, Canada
The Port Moody Station Museum.
The third postcard barrel is located in the official western terminus of the Canadian Pacific Railway. (CPR) This barrel is super special to me cause I grew up in Port Moody and even went to Rocky Point Playschool, just across the street.
links:
http://www.vcn.bc.ca/pmmuseum
http://portmoodystationmuseum.blogspot.com/2005/08/message-in-barrel.html




*************************************************************************

Are you ready to create your own "Message in a Barrel", Barrel?
Let me know about it and I'll make a link to you from this site!

Happy posting,

Kyle
messageinabarrel@gmail.com

Hi Kyle!
I sent you five postcards to Montreal before you left
for Ecuador and received a confirmation that you
received them. My first card arrived back yesterday,
May 15 from the Galapagos.
I put a message on the postcards for anyone to read and
used them to try to entice other travellers to come to
visit Niagara Falls. It was rather humurous that the
retired couple that delivered back my first card was
from a town just next to Niagara Falls. I visited with
them yesterday and they showed me pictures of the
barrel!
Mark, Niagara Falls, Ontario


...my post card has already been delivered! My parents arrived home
in California a few weeks ago to find two friendly guys standing in
their driveway, postcard in hand. I, unfortunately, hadn't warned my
parents that this might happen (I had no idea it would be delivered so
fast!), so they were completely baffled as to how a postcard had come
from me to them via the Galapagos. Once I explained it over the phone, they wished they'd invited the guys in for a chat--they didn't even get their names!
Lynne, Newfoundland


Thanks, Kyle. You know the picture on the website that has all the cards piled up? Well, the card that arrived at my parent's house can be seen on top of the pile. Too hard to give directions as to which one it is. Kinda like the direction you might get while driving in, say, Ohio. "See the postcard with the blue picture and the black border? Veer north from there. . ." Very cool that the project is working and that you and Dom aren't the only ones rambling the world hand delivering cards. Love the stories. Be safe!
Jessie, Michigan


Dear Kyle,
I received a card with a message from you and postmarked and stamped...this is just a card from you right? It was delivered in my mail by our postman, so I am assuming this is not the card from the Island. I checked the list of names in the barrel and I saw my name and my family and friends names too........this is so cool.:)
Thanks, and I have been inspired to look up the Galapagos Islands online and thinks I may do a collage about this venture of yours and the cards. If I do one.....I will send you a picture of the finished product.
Carolyn, Arcadia FL USA


Hey Kyle, On Wed, 27 Apr 2005 I received the following e-mail message from Rick and Karen:
Dear Ms. Lady Bat Chic,
My wife and I live in Cape Vincent, NY. We have just returned from
the Galapagos with a post card for you. We have a boat and sometime
during the summer we would like to bring the card to you since
Gananoque and the theater is one of our summer destinations. Please
reply to this message, and then we will keep in touch as to when we
visit your town.
Rick and Karen
--So, I replied to their e-mail that same day, with the following
response,
Dear Rick and Karen,
Thank you for responding to the Galapagos Post Card Project (a dip
in barrel!) to pull out my postcard! This project was organized by Canadian postal-artist, Kyle MacDonald, from Montreal who wanted to expand our idea of "communication" through mail-art and enjoyment. He invited people to mail him postcards so he could take them with him to the Galapagos (via air mail as he went on his plane trip!) to facilitate the "barrel exchange." I have been creating mail-art since the early 1980's (as BatChic) and have exhibited my mail-art in galleries world-wide [as well as in Ottawa and Hamilton, Ontario] --but this is the first time I will have a postcard hand-delivered from you both, by boat, in this manner. I find this whole experience extremely exciting! I am looking forward to meeting you both this summer. I also would love to share with you, your stories of the Galapagos. Kudos, Lady BatChic
--P.S. I will keep you "posted" of the upcoming rendevous of
the "Message in a Barrel, Dockside" later this summer. XOXO BatChic
Lady Batchic, Gananoque, Ontario

Message in a Barrel and One Red Paperclip are perfect if you're looking for a fun and unique article!

Contact Kyle MacDonald for more info:
home: 514-448-2678
cell: 514-833-3980
email: messageinabarrel@gmail.com

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Did you hear about either project somewhere other than a media outlet listed below?
Email me at messageinabarrel@gmail.com with the details!
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July 13- August 2, 2005: Boston
A long-time dream of mine was brought to fruition by Ezra Dyer of the Improper Bostonian--to appear in a bi-weekly regional humor magazine wearing a sweatshirt with a loon on it. Dream big kids, the sky truly is the limit.





May/June, 2005: Canada/USA: Outpost Magazine. Appearing on newsstands across North America for two months, the issue of Outpost included a snazzy l'il article put together by Cale Bain. The article includess a picture of Kyle wearing a 'Flutie Flakes' T-shirt and holding a sandboard, which was used to transport official Message in a Barrel postcards down Peruvian sand dunes in April of 2005. Sandtastic.



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Prior to Apr.1 2005 Message in a Barrel was called Going Postal 3000
**********************************************************************

Read the Going Postal 3000 Press Release

Mar 30, 2005: Canada: Tetsuro Shigematsu and I chatted about the project on his daily show on CBC Radio One, 'The Roundup' .

Mar 28, 2005: Montreal QC: I spoke with Sonali Karnick on CBC Radio One across Quebec on the progam Daybreak. <-- click there to find the link to listen

Mar 26, 2005: Vancouver BC: An article about Going Postal 3000 appeared in the Travel section of sunny Vancouver's aptly named Vancouver Sun newspaper.

Mar 24, 2005: Montreal QC: Isa Tousignant of Montreal's Hour newspaper put a nice little article together for the English-speaking, free-newspaper reading crowd in the world's second-largest French-speaking city.



Mar 24, 2005: Ottawa ON: The Ottawa Express picked up the feed from their sister paper in Montreal, The Hour.

Mar 23, 2005: St-Alexis-Des-Monts QC: The monthly rag Le Stalexique from Dom's hometown threw up a cool story about the project. It was even featured in the front section the newspaper, in front of an article about living legend speedway motocycle champ Michel Lemay. (AKA Kyle's hero.)

Mar 20, 2005: North New Jersey, NJ, USA: Anamaria Flores of the North Jersey Record put together a great article about the project and her meeting/interview with me in Times Square a week earlier.



Mar 16, 2005: Montreal QC: I talked with Tracey McKee on Global TV's 'Global Morning Live' between at 8:28 - 8:29 am. Trivia fact: The exterior tempereature was -4 Degrees Celsius.



Mar 13, 2005: Halifax NC Canada: A fellow named Brian Wilson told me about a mention of GP3000 in the "Your Travel" section on Page 22 of The Daily News in Halifax, Nova Scotia Canada. I'm assuming he's not the Brian Wilson from the Beach Boys, but hey, you never know. I'm also sure he never gets tired of hearing that one.

Mar 13, 2005: Scaramento CA USA: Sacramento Bee Travel Editor Janet Fullwood was nice enough to talk about GP3000 in her column .

Mar 12, 2005: Hometown girl Dominique Dupuis and her GP 3000-founding boyfriend Kyle were shown clad in long-johns and toques in the Sahara Desert in colour on the frontpage of the travel section of the French-language Le Nouvelliste in the Mauricie region of Quebec.



Mar 11, 2005: New York City: I appeared in the crowd of the outdoor taping-portion of the Today Show on NBC holding a large red sign that read: "going postal 3000.com"



Mar 6, 2005: Peter Clough summed up my plan with his bit in The Province Vancouver, Canada page B2

Mar 6, 2005: Anne Sutherland of the Montreal Gazette was nice enough to throw up a half page article on page 2 of the Sunday Gazette.


Mar 2, 2005: Coquitlam - Port Moody - Port Coquitlam BC Canada:
Janis Cleugh alerted the masses of the Tri-City region of Greater Vancouver with her full page story in Tri City News , Coquitlam-Port Moody-Port Coquitlam, BC, Canada



Feb 23, 2005: On-line article by Dutch website sneeuwblind.nl

Feb 21, 2005: Peter Anthony Holder of CJAD 800AM in Montreal, Quebec, Canada was nice enough to invite me into the studio for a 25-minute on-air chat.