Out with the old gloves . . .
. . . and in with the new.
14 Jan, 06 - 21:18
For GPS position, race position and miles from La Gomera, see http://www.atlanticrowingrace.co.uk
The ocean has been having some fun and games at my expense today, and the bilge pump has been busy.
The Atlantic started off in playful mood - a gust of wind blew my Fourth Element baseball hat into the water and I thought it was gone forever, but the waves kindly brought it back to me before it sank.
Then I found that Locker #7, the one with my lifejacket and emergency grab bags in it, had flooded. The Baltic lifejacket had self-inflated, as it's supposed to do when it gets wet, which was inconvenient but reassuring, I suppose.
Worse, one of my drybags hadn't lived up to its name - miraculously my handheld GPS seems to have survived its bath, but I've yet to find out if the chocolate bars have.
So still nothing too serious, but later on the mood turned nasty. Shortly after these photos were taken I was just emptying the bedpan over the side of the boat when suddenly I found myself face down in the water (at least I hope it was mostly water). The boat quickly self-righted, and I was still in it, clinging to the oar guardrail for dear life.
The deck was absolutely swamped, the footwell flooded. Luckily I've now learned my lesson, and there's nothing on deck that isn't lashed down or attached in some way. My lip salve had slipped its leash but I rescued it just before it vanished through the scuppers.
I shuddered when I thought how easily I could have gone overboard, and rowed on in chastened mood for some time before recovering my spirits.
So the sea has been in feisty mood, but mustn't complain. Conditions are good, if rough, and Antigua is getting just a little nearer. But I could do without these frequent drive-by drenchings, and as wind speeds approach 25 knots safety is paramount. If my boat and I should part company I can't count on being as fortunate as my baseball hat, and solo rowers don't get second chances.
Mark in Colorado - will answer your question tomorrow.
Message to my sister Tanya as she sets off on a one year trip around the world: Have a marvellous time. I hope your travels bring you all you wish for, and a few nice surprises too. Rx
Texts: thanks to Magnus Burbanks, Pauline, Andy & Emer (thanks for navigation tip!), HSS, Tim (row for pleasure? who knows?), John T (yes), Guy (thx for text hug), Jeff (stickers still looking good. Salty kisses? - no comment!), Candy (go for it! Good luck), Jan Meek, Steve Moore (have YOU ever tried peeing over the side on 20 foot waves? As a girl?), Bruce D (no, only chilly at night), Ian Nelson, Sal and Dick (what next? watch this space!), Jo Allen.
SPONSORED MILE: Coming up soon I think, Cliff Butters at number 1106.
Distance rowed according to Woodvale is now on Saturday evening very nearly 1100. (Rita Savage.)
Wind: E
Weather: sunshine and cloud
Sea state: very rough
Hours rowing: 11
| Atlantic Row Part 2 |
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Alone but not lonely.
Splinted (and splintered) oars
12 Jan, 06 - 20:21
For GPS position, race position and miles from La Gomera, see http://www.atlanticrowingrace.co.uk
Question: You;ve stopped telling us how you're feeling. Are you lonely? Or has it kicked into being wonderful yet? And when you get a text, do you stop rowing to read it immediately (desperate for contact) or do you wait until your next break?
A: Before answering the question I had to think hard about what loneliness means. If it is a yearning for the company of a kindred spirit, then I have occasionally felt more lonely in a crowded room than I have done out here. Loneliness has not been one of my demons.
I speak to my mother for about 15 minutes most days - usually quite businesslike, about sponsors, website, messages etc - and I get my texts, which I pick up 2 or 3 times a day. This seems to be enough human contact for me. I look forward to these times, but I'm not desperate for them. I'm quite content with my own thoughts for company.
No, the demons that plagued my first month on the ocean were feelings of inadequacy, self-doubt, frustration. How could I not have realised this was going to be so hard? What had made me think I was up to it? Why was I not going faster? Why could I not settle into a satisfactory routine?
Those feelings have now started to dissipate. There have been a number of contributing factors.
First, a couple of days ago I was thinking about an after-dinner speech I'm due to give in New York in April, and planning what I could say I'd learned from this experience. That exercise helped me reconnect with the reasons I undertook this challenge in the first place. I realised I'm achieving those objectives. That cheered me up a lot.
Second, I've finally adapted to my new lifestyle. I no longer ask myself at the start of every rowing shift whether I want to do it. I just get on and do it.
Third, I've started being kinder to myself. I've overcome some of my perceived weaknesses, and accepted others, and I've started to be more appreciative of my achievements.
The last few days have been increasingly enjoyable, and already that ghastly, miserable first month seems like a fast-fading nightmare. But it's still a fragile joy - I'm not yet taking it for granted, and I'm nurturing it carefully. There's still a long way to go, and possibly there are more trials in store for me. But I feel much better equipped to deal with them now than I did a month ago.
P.S. After I'd written this I spoke to my mother and found out more about the misadventures happening elsewhere in the fleet. It made my psycho-worries seem very trivial and self-indulgent.
It also made me rather nervous, and I looked at the ocean with a renewed sense of respect and even a glimmer of fear.News of Chris Martin's capsize, in particular, had scared me. As an outlet for my nerves I spent half an hour setting up the sea drogue just in case things get too lively and I need to slow the boat down. It gave me some slight sense of security. I'd been advised not to use it if I want a fast time. I think I've blown the fast time anyway, and I'd rather get there slowly than not get there at all.
Texts:
A special thank you to Diana Hoff - I think about you often, and am proud to be following in your footsteps/ rowing in your wake. (Note: to date Diana is the only British woman to have succesfully rowed solo across the Atlantic.)
Kim from Denmark and Clarkie Sargent: well spotted. Three out of my four oars are now damaged. But I dismembered my telescopic boathook into 2 sections to make splints for the 2 least damaged oars (see photo). I'm rowing with the one good oar and one splinted. The other splinted oar and the bendy oar are on guardrail duty. So no need to summon extra oars, and my unsupported status remains intact for now.
Thanks also to Guy, John (answer re desert island discs under consideration), Lizann, Mike C, Mark and the patients at Craig Hospital in Colorado, Philip Goodier, Caroline Haines (thanks for the generous donation, and for the congrats on my 2 achievements today - 1000 miles and overtaking Move Ahead).
Wind: NE to ENE
Weather: sunshine and cloud, occasional shower
Sea state: rough
Hours rowing: 13
With thanks to Roxy Music for today's headline.
| Atlantic Row Part 2 |
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Absolutely nothing to do with desert island discs, but the last sunset photo seemed popular so here's another one.
13 Jan, 06 - 21:58
For GPS position, race position and miles from La Gomera, see http://www.atlanticrowingrace.co.uk
Q: If you miss Antigua, what would be your 3 desert island discs?
A: Such a difficult question - so much good music in the world! I've cheated, and picked a few extras as well as a top 3. In reality, of course, I've got 10,000 songs on my iPod so I'd be spoiled for choice... provided, of course, that my desert island had a stereo, as mine hasn't worked since the Night of the Very Big Wave.
The Logical Song, by Supertramp: poignant lament for lost innocence and magic of childhood.
Imagine, by John Lennon: because I'm a hippy chick at heart.
Wuthering Heights, by Kate Bush: not the original Version, but the one she recorded a few years later when her voice had mellowed. So beautiful, it's hard to believe it was written by a mere mortal. Perfectly captures the wild, romantic, gothic savagery of one of my favourite books. (Oops, starting to sound like pretentious rock critic.)
Other favourites:
Shine On You Crazy Diamond, by Pink Floyd
Heroes, by David Bowie
Bridge Over Troubled Water, by Simon and Garfunkel
Adagio for Strings, by Samuel Barber
Songs of Faith and Devotion (the whole album), by Depeche Mode
Eagle, by Abba
Texts: thanks to Alastair, Mac (thanks for the quote - one of my favourites), John, Tim (staying as safe as I know how. What is Route 66?), Mark in Colorado (blimey - there's a question! Will think about it), Patrick (AT brain food?), Nathan (ran out of time to sort bespoke seat, but natural in-built padding doing ok so far!), DB, Stew (this is a happy tortoise), AJ (thx for motivation!), Natalie (how true), RJA (thanks for words of encouragement), Duncan C, Dick Thompson.
Wind: E
Weather: sunshine and cloud, showers
Sea state: rough
Hours rowing: 13
| Atlantic Row Part 2 |
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Hemp cookies - taste even worse than they look.
Not much meat on this flying fish.
11 Jan, 06 - 19:26
For GPS position, race position and miles from La Gomera, see http://www.atlanticrowingrace.co.uk
Since the demise of my camping stove I've had to get more creative with my cooking.
Breakfast has been a problem - flapjack alone gave me too much of a sugar rush followed by a sugar crash, and I was finding cold porridge rather hard going first thing in the morning, so yesterday I tried making some oatmeal and hemp no-cook cookies.
Roz's Recipe
1 sachet Mornflake Oats 2 Go porridge
1 scoop hemp protein powder
Ginger
Cinnamon
Raisins
Add enough water to make a stiff paste and stir thoroughly. Shape into cookie shapes and place on billycan lid. Leave to 'bake' in the sun for as long as you dare before a wave or rain shower gets to them.
Serving suggestion: best chucked overboard - I managed one bite before consigning the remainder to the waves (with apologies to any fish hoping for a tasty tidbit).
So today I'm trying the hemp powder mixed into a protein sports drink with a little bit of coffee. I haven't drunk coffee since setting out from La Gomera, but felt the need for something to solve my mid-morning energy crisis. It seems to be working well, giving me sustainable energy throughout the morning, although it has also necessitated frequent visits to the bedpan.
It's not quite my ideal breakfast (New York style French toast, topped with melting butter and maple syrup, liberally sprinkled with cinnamon, served with fresh fruit and ice cream) but it's a damn sight better than those hemp cookies.
Sorry to hear about the mishaps that have befallen Digicel, Pacific Pete, Rowgirls and Gurkha Spirit. Wishing all the best to all.
Thank you for texts and messages from: Natalie (will answer your questions tomorrow), John T (character assessment - scary! Thx for reassurance after yesterday's frank expose on the finances of a would-be professional adventurer), Tim in Ithaca (no, not 'By the time I get to Phoenix'. Nice try, but no cigar!), the Galls (like your perspective on my performance compared with All Relative!), Mike C, Tim Harincar at WebExpeditions, DB (maple pecan is favourite), Prince's Trust, Abigail James, Virginia, Flemming in Denmark, Victoria Humphries (your polar example has helped keep me going - anything IS possible!), Sam K (hope you had a good gym session), Mac from Team Sevenoaks (you're on).
Wind: NE
Weather: sunshine and cloud, occasional shower
Sea state: calm earlier, rough later
Hours rowing: 14
Casualty List
I thought it might be interesting to keep a tally of items that have ceased to function, got damaged, disappeared overboard, or otherwise ceased to be of service:
3 oars damaged (another one last night)
Camping stove
Navigation instruments
Stereo
Thermos mug
Lid off thermos flask
Spoon
Drinks bottle
Storage jar
Alpaca skin seat cover
Lip salve
Milton fluid
...and a comfy foam cushion for sitting on
With apologies to the ocean for unintentionally leaving such a trail of litter.
| Atlantic Row Part 2 |
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