Arriving in DC at the end of last year's Climate Ride

This September I’ll be taking part in the California Climate Ride from Eureka to San Francisco. I did the East Coast version last year, and it was absolutely brilliant. We covered 300 miles from New York City to Washington, DC, through Amish country and some of the best landscapes the East Coast can offer.

It was an meticulously well-organised event. Each day we were given detailed and accurate directions, and an advance party would have also set out route markers along the way. Combined with the fact that I was rarely out of sight of the riders ahead, there was no chance that even a navigationally-challenged ocean rower could get lost!

The food was also excellent, with generous and tasty breakfasts and dinners, and regular snack stops along the way to top up the calorie count. Each evening we were entertained and edified by a broad range of speakers – including yours truly – before toddling off to our tents, cabins, or hotel rooms (the accommodations seemed to get more comfortable as the ride progressed) for a well-deserved sleep.

Come and join Team Roz!

But best of all was the chance to meet and mingle with 150 like-minded individuals, many of them working full-time in conservation and climate professions. After 5 days I felt like I had made some real friends, and have seen many of them again since – including Alison Gannett, the extreme skier who was part of my Big Ben to Brussels team that walked 250 miles towards Copenhagen last year.

So this year I was delighted to hear that the proposed West Coast version was going ahead. At the suggestion of Caeli and Geraldine, creators and organisers of the Climate Ride, we’re putting together a “Team Roz” and it would be fantastic if you could join us.

To register, go to the Team Roz page and fill out the form.

I’ll be making a cross-country dash to join the Ride on Day 2, coming straight from the Ocean Champions reception in DC. I wish I could be there for the start – those redwoods look just incredible, as does the scenery all the days. If it is anything like the East Coast version, the organisers will have planned the route to be as scenic as possible.

I hope that some of you come and join us – I’d be over the moon if you could find the time to ride with Team Roz!

Thanks to everybody who chipped in on the debate about cargo ship vs flying from Hong Kong to Long Beach. I was absolutely gobsmacked at the response – I had no idea it would prove to be such an emotive and discussion-provoking question. It was especially interesting to get the facts and figures – thank you, Christopher and Doug. (Some more interesting facts and figures on cargo ships from Wikipedia.)

Who would have thought that anything could emit as much CO2 as air travel? But it seems it’s true – which should make us all think twice about what is inside all those containers – and whether we are buying those things that are being shipped halfway around the world. If we are, we should be factoring that into our carbon footprint calculations as well as our transport choices – and, ideally, avoiding buying imported items whenever possible.

As to my decision, I was discussing my dilemma with a friend on the dive boat today. She remarked that when I talked about the cargo ship, I lit up with enthusiasm. The plane, not so much. I realized that I was actually looking forward to a couple of weeks of “vacation” to spend on writing my book and preparing my presentation. I always think best when I travel, and two weeks of time for blue-sky-thinking (or blue-sea-thinking) would be a welcome break between my speaking engagements in Asia and the start of the tour of North America.

Also, having discussed cargo ship schedules with a local businessman last night, I am now better informed about how this world works. Captains have a powerful incentive to stick to schedule, because if they miss their berth in one port then their whole itinerary is disrupted. So I am reasonably reassured that I would not be late for Asheville.

Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to ask this question online, because I am bound to disappoint at least some of those who express an opinion. There again, it has been an eye-opening experience for me, and hopefully for some of you, too.

On a less contentious issue, here are some photos from my dive today on the wreck of the Henry Lee here in Madang. I’m just starting out in underwater photography, using a Canon G9 given to me by a very kind friend, but I’m really enjoying it. It brings a whole new dimension to my diving, making me look more carefully at this amazing underwater seascape. Aren’t ocean creatures beautiful!

But I’m ashamed to say I don’t know the names of most of the fish. The little red and white fella is a long-nosed hawkfish, and the orange and white stripey ones are anemonefish – but kudos to anybody who can help me identify the other chappies!

PS from Rita Savage:

Grateful  thanks for donations sent in recently by Stanley Miller, Doug Grandt, Malcolm Brookes, Lisa Gegner, Richard Magahiz, Ian Baker, Cristof Bals, Ethem Erginöz, Ian Hamaby, Gigi Brisson, Robert, Rebecca Schwartz and one or two others not named here – you know who you are.

Also extremely grateful to those who signed up to make regular monthly payments to Roz and continue to do so, faithfully, month after month. Very much appreciated.

May I also add my thanks for the support and gratitude expressed to me during the time that I was transcribing Roz’s blogs. Very best wishes to all Rozlings!

This is my favourite photo!

Anemonefish

You know what an omnivore is – it eats anything and, in some cases, everything. Well, I’ve just coined a new word – the omniviviphile. (Latin scholars, please do not throw up your hands in horror. Just go with it and forgive my poor Latin – my one grade C amidst a happy cloud of As and Bs.)

It means All + Life + Love. More or less, loving everything about life – and wanting to do it all. Usually all at once. And this presents me with dilemmas such as the one that I need to resolve by the end of today.

The question at stake is: how best to travel from Asia to North America for the start of my speaking tour in September?

I was fascinated a year or so ago to hear about a friend-of-a-friend who never flies any more, but hitches ride on container ships as they ply the world’s oceans. It is not a particularly cheap alternative to flying, although when you factor in the cost of food for the duration of the voyage, it’s not bad value either. And of course its main attraction to this green-at-heart ocean rower, yours truly, is its lower carbon footprint. It is claimed that flying produces 36 times more carbon dioxide per passenger-mile than sea travel (presumably excluding oar-powered sea travel, which produces infinitely less carbon dioxide).

A bit of research threw up a number of websites with more information – notably The Traveler’s Notebook, which led me to Cruise People in London.

The Hatsu Courage

As a result, I now have sitting in my email inbox an invitation to join the Hatsu Courage from Hong Kong to Long Beach, sailing on August 19 and due to arrive 16 days later on Sept 3. I really want to do this. But my speaking tour is due to start in Asheville, NC, on Sept 8. In my experience nothing involving boats and oceans ever goes according to schedule – although this year, after my anticipated 100-day voyage took  a mere 46 days, schedule variations don’t always involve being late. Just usually.

In fact, the container ship that was due to take my rowboat from Madang to Melbourne has just been postponed by a month. In that context, 5 days is not a very comfortable margin of safety.

So here are my thought processes so far, in weighing up the pros and cons of sailing versus flying:

Pro
- makes a statement that there ARE alternatives to flying that DON’T involve rowing!
- good opportunity to work offline and start work on the Pacific book
- unusual experience – and I’m all about experiences
- find out what actually happens on the bridge of container ship – may be useful for future safety when I am back in my rowboat

Con
- could miss the start of US speaking tour, and only refunded if the sailing is cancelled – no refund if delayed
- 2 weeks out of the loop at a crucial stage of tour planning (the ship may have internet, but I have not received a response to this question. I can, of course, take my satphone, and send/receive SMS messages on that, so I won’t be totally incommunicado)
- 2 weeks that I could spend doing interesting things in Asia
- more expensive than flying (about $2,100 vs $900, although it does of course include 16 days of board and lodging)

The first pro and the first con are the biggest factors as far as I’m concerned. I really want to show that a lower-carbon lifestyle can actually be fun and feasible. But I don’t want to cause my amazing team of volunteer event organisers to have nervous breakdowns if I am delayed on the ocean. Our plans for Asheville are already well formed, largely thanks to the energetic response of Laurey Masterton, and it would be a tragedy if I was late for my own speaking tour.

It’s a terrible dilemma. So I decided to share it, in the hopes that the Rozling community might come up with some input that would help me make up my mind – or even information about some other low-carbon alternative.

So… over to you! What do you think I should do? Let me know as soon as you can, as I need to decide today!

with the Governor of Madang

It is now a week since I arrived in Madang. Which means it is a week since I became the first woman to row solo all the way across the Pacific. Which you would have thought would be a pretty amazing feeling. Maybe I could even be forgiven for being just a little bit proud of myself.

But to be honest, this is not really so. I have a number of theories about this lack of self-congratulation, and it’s probably a combination of all of the following:

- The Indian Ocean: I am already busy planning for the next adventure – the Indian Ocean, pencilled in to start in March 2011. So I have to get the boat ready for shipping, decide what goes with her and what I ship back to the US, get her all cleaned up and shipshape. There is equipment to be replaced, supplies to be sponsored, and money to raise. This doesn’t leave much time for resting on my laurels.

- Comparison with the Atlantic Ocean: now THAT was a feeling of accomplishment. My first ocean, and the hardest thing I had ever done. The highs and lows (mostly lows) of crossing the Atlantic in officially the worst year ever since weather records began pushed me to and beyond my limits, and the feeling of relief when I arrived in Antigua was immense. Imagine finishing a marathon, winning an Oscar, and getting out of jail, all rolled into one. Since then I have found ways to make my ocean life more comfortable, and of course there is the greater confidence that comes from having done it before. So arrival no longer has that same level of euphoria.

- I wouldn’t want to be a member of any club that would have me as a member: hey, if I can manage to row the Pacific, just how hard can it be? I suffered the same sense of anticlimax when I got my place at Oxford. Oxford went from being the pinnacle of my aspirations to something I had achieved – and duly dropped several notches in my opinion. This probably says something bad about my self esteem or excessive natural modesty. Ah well.

- The eco mission continues: Rowing is only half the story. I can’t sit back and congratulate myself on a job well done while there is oil gushing into the Gulf of Mexico, and weak legislation staggering its way to enactment while the daily assaults on our Earth continue. This is no time to be patting myself on the back – there is much work still to be done, and as ever, I am trying to figure out how I can be most effective in making a difference.

- If I ever get too impressed with myself…. then it will all go horribly wrong, I am sure. This must be the Yorkshire side of me – thanks, Dad – where self-effacement is seen as just good manners. So my feet are most definitely still firmly on the ground (so to speak), and I am still just the same person I ever was – just a bit more weatherbeaten and with a few new experiences under my belt.

So although it is very nice to bask a little in the afterglow when accosted around town by people wanting to shake my hand, or to do interviews, I’m in no danger of getting too big for my boots anytime soon. But lest this all sound rather subdued, rest assured – I am happy. Content, without being complacent. Smiling, without being smug.

Other Stuff:

Papua New Guinea is celebrating the Queen’s Birthday this weekend. I am being treated to a trip to the island of Karkar on board Sir Peter Barter’s beautiful cruise ship, the Kalibobo Spirit, along with a group of friends. It will be a delicious contrast to be on board a boat with hot showers and comfortable beds and a fully stocked bar. Just like mine – NOT!

Banner made by students from Madang Technical College

Children in traditional costume - part of my welcoming party

Note the 350.org t-shirt!

I have just a few minutes before I head out to dinner with some new friends, but I just wanted to share these pictures from Madang. Today I spoke at the Tusbab High School, and my presentation was followed by a cleanup along the beach road. I promised the students that I would share these pictures with the world, as a good example of something that anybody can do to make the world a better, healthier place for all its residents. As you can see from the big smiles, making the world a greener, cleaner place can be fun!

All photos by Sir Peter Barter – thanks to him and his staff for supporting the cleanup – and me! And thanks to the students for their enthusiasm and energy, and for doing their bit for the planet.

(Oops – sorry about the sideways pic, but no time to correct it just now!)

Tranquil waters - closing in on Madang (credit Jan Messersmith)

Happy Oceans Day!

Although in reality our oceans are not happy – in fact, they are in a seriously sorry state. Forgive me if I get sentimental for a few moments here. Over the last couple of months I have had something of an epiphany, and I feel the need to share.

Until this year, I felt uncomfortable when people tried to label me as an “advocate for the oceans”. It wasn’t a label I had chosen, and I felt it didn’t fit me. The Atlantic Ocean beat me up pretty badly in 2005-6, and I was still bearing a grudge. My relationship with the ocean could best be described as ambivalent. I regarded her as a tough taskmaster, who occasionally tried to kill me. Not the best basis for a happy relationship.

But this year two things have happened that have softened my attitude towards the vast blue bits of our planet.

First, there was TED Mission Blue. For two days I received a concentrated dose of all the bad news that I had heard about the oceans over the last few years, and it shocked me.

- There is a 6:1 ratio of plastic to plankton in the ocean. This cannot be good.

- Consuming blue fin tuna is like barbecuing pandas.

- Ocean plants produce half of the world’s oxygen.

- In 40 years, seafood could be a thing of the past.

- Ocean acidification is seriously affecting its ability to absorb CO2 from the atmosphere.

Sure, I already knew about plastic pollution, collapsing fish stocks, ocean acidification, dead zones and coastal habitat destruction. But like so many environmental messages, the drip-drip-drip of bad news hadn’t really hit me with the sense of urgency that I got at TED. Here were world-respected experts telling us that we need to take urgent action before the oceans are too damaged to recover.

Given that the oceans cover 70% of our planet, it suddenly made sense to me that if our oceans are in trouble, then so are we.

My favourite arrival photo - credit Jan Messersmith

Second, there was this third and final stage of my row. I actually almost enjoyed it. Although I didn’t see as much marine wildlife as last year, I felt a sense of companionship with the little entourage of fish that wiggled alongside my boat. I relished the sunrises and sunsets. I enjoyed the solitude and magnificence of the oceanic wilderness. So it was all the more upsetting when I saw plastic pollution and raw sewage out at sea. My perception of the ocean changed: I no longer perceived her as an enemy, but rather as a mistreated environment in need of love and restoration.

So it hurt all the more to hear about the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. My heart ached. We had already assaulted the ocean in so many smaller ways – and now here was the big one. The ultimate insult.

So on this Oceans Day, even if you have never spent a day at sea in your life, I beg you to do a blue deed for the day. Do something to help. Join an ocean conservation organisation. Make a donation. Post a tweet. Just do something. And then tell us about it at http://ecoheroes.me. Log a “water” deed and tell us what you did.

The ocean thanks you. And so do I.

No rest for the wicked. Before my calluses have even started to peel off, I am already starting to plan for the Indian Ocean row, due to start in March 2011. And I need your help.

I am not asking you for money. No, I intend to earn the funds that I need, but I hope you might be able to help me to do so. I would love to organise a series of speaking engagements in the US and Canada for September/October this year, to further my environmental mission and hopefully earn a few dollars along the way. But I can’t possibly handle the logistics for a tour entirely on my own. I need to turn to my Rozlings for help with booking venues, liaising with local media, spreading the word and generally being my local point of contact.

So if you have a company, a club, an organisation, school, society, or even just a bunch of interested friends who would like to hear me speak, please get in touch via the contact form on this website. You’re not committing to anything at this stage. I’m just looking for expressions of interest.

Depending on the kinds of responses I get, I plan to put together a set of packaged options, including financial arrangements, publicity materials, and a step-by-step guide to organising an event. I will make sure that we find a way to make it work financially, regardless of the kind of event, provided that we can cover my travel and accommodation costs and raise a few bucks for my next expedition.

And hopefully have an interesting, informative and entertaining time into the bargain!

(If you’re in Europe, I’m planning a speaking tour there for next year, so watch out for more details nearer the time.)

Other Stuff:

As promised, here are some photos from my awesome diving trip on Saturday. Dive and photos courtesy of Jan Messersmith. Thanks, Jan, for a day to remember. And check out Jan’s blog too – he got some fantastic photos of my arrival in Madang!

Cuttlefish - check out those amazing colours!

Bigeye Trevally

And me!

I’ve just got back from one of the best day’s diving I have ever experienced. The water was clear, the corals were prolific and colourful, in every shape you can imagine. But best of all were the enormous sea anemones – I swear one was as large across as I am tall – with their cute little resident clownfish squiggling around between their tentacles. If it’s possible to grin broadly while sucking on a scuba regulator, then that’s what I was doing.

Today served to remind me, more than ever, how wonderful our oceans are when you get beneath the surface. During the crossing I was all too aware that 99.9% of the interesting stuff was going on invisibly beneath me. If only more people could see what I’ve seen today, I think we would all cherish the oceans so much more.

I don’t have time to write more now – I’ve been invited to dinner to meet some new people – but will share some underwater wildlife photos in a couple of days when I receive them from Jan Messersmith, my host for today’s dive. Thanks to Jan for a wonderful day.

Gotta run!

Was I really ever worried that there would be nobody to greet me in Madang? Did I really think I was going to skulk quietly into town and then go and buy myself a solitary beer of celebration?

Really? Really??!!

Nothing could have been further from what actually happened here this morning. An estimated five thousand people came down to the harbour to greet me to Madang. About twenty canoes, paddled by people in traditional costume, escorted me the last half mile to the dock. A helicopter buzzed overhead, shooting video and photos. Once on dry land I must have shaken about 1000 hands, everybody wanting to touch me and congratulate me. It was phenomenal. I feel like I have 5000 new friends.

After officially finishing my row around 11pm last night, I spent the night on board the Kalibobo Spirit. I wasn’t allowed to step onto dry land until customs officials could be on hand to clear my paperwork, but spending another night at sea was no hardship – the Kalibobo is a luxurious cruiser. I walked into my cabin and felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. After a very long, hot and exhausting day, it was sheer luxury to have a hot shower and then sink gratefully into bed – quite possibly the most comfortable bed that I have ever slept in.

Not that I had much time to appreciate it – I was asleep within about 2.3 seconds, and the next thing I knew it was 5.30am and time to get up for my ceremonial arrival.

We towed Brocade back out to sea and after a quick phone call to Mum I took up my oars again, and re-rowed the last segment of my row. The first local people to congratulate me were a few fishermen, out early in their outrigger canoes, who formed an orderly line to pass close to my boat and shake my hand.

They were just the first of many. As I neared the harbour a flotilla of about twenty canoes, all decked out in traditional garlands of leaves, came out to join me and escort me to the dock. I hope you’ve seen the photos that Mum posted earlier, and seen how splendid the boats and their paddlers looked. Everybody was smiling, especially me. I kept stopping to wave to the crowds, who waved back enthusiastically. I wish I could find a way to row and wave at the same time, but I’m still working on it.

As I got closer to the dock the crowds on the shoreline thickened. Schoolchildren in uniform created blocks of colour. As I rounded the corner towards the Madang Resort the harbour wall was absolutely packed. The estimated number is five thousand people, and I don’t think that is any exaggeration.

We completed the formalities on the dock, and then I was free to step ashore. I was met by the Governor of PNG, who explained the meaning of the traditional garlands and string bags that various well-wishers placed around my neck. As we moved through the crowd everyone was reaching out to shake my hand or touch me. It could have been overwhelming to be surrounded by such a crush of humanity after 46 days at sea, but in fact it felt great.

Sir Peter Barter, former PNG Governor and my new guardian angel, guided me to a PA system and I said a few words. A group from the Technical College, standing beneath a very impressive banner depicting me, my boat, and words of congratulations on my environmental mission, sang a song about PNG – possibly the national anthem. There was more handshaking and gift-giving, and then Sir Peter extricated me and showed me to my room at the Madang Resort, from where I can see my boat, now moored in the lagoon. There has been a steady procession of people all day, coming down to see the boat, and as I’ve walked around the resort yet more people have shaken my hand and congratulated me.

Tonight I’m having dinner with the Governor and Sir Peter, and the diary is already filling up fast for the rest of my month here. There’s a lot I plan to do – diving, exploring, meeting people and giving talks about my adventures and environmental mission.

It has been a day to remember, for sure. Spectacular. Thank you to everybody who has played a part – everybody here in Madang, the Governor Sir Arnold Amet, Sir Peter Barter, the staff at the Madang Resort, Alan Murray at Murray PR, and of course my wonderful, indefatigable invisible crewmate – my mother.

And thank you also for all the messages of congratulations that have been rolling in from all over the world. Thank you for your love, empathy, kindness and support during this third and final stage of my voyage. I feel very lucky that you are there for me through the highs and the lows, the trials and tribulations, and at last the final joyous celebrations at the successful conclusion of this 4-year/250-day, 8,000-mile, 2.5 million oarstroke epic adventure. It’s been… special.

Picture: [email protected]

On Friday June 4th 2010 Roz rowed into the harbour at Madang, Papua New Guinea, to a rapturous welcome by 5000 people.

Jan Messersmith writes about his encounter with Roz: http://www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/06/03/the-soaring-spirit-roz-savage/

Sir Peter Barter wrote:

Roz Savage arrived in Madang this morning at 0800.

The former Governor of Madang Province, Sir Peter Barter, said she was escorted in by a flotilla of 100 traditional canoes from all the villages around: “They had leis and flowers and guided her into the harbour.”

More than 5000 men, women and children, many in traditional dress, lined the entrance of Dallman Passage and Kalibobo Village, waving as she moved slowly into the dock at the Madang Resort, where Roz will stay as a guest for four weeks.

On arrival she was met by customs, immigration, quarantine and officially cleared and then welcomed by the Governor Sir Arnold Amet. Literally hundreds of people shook hands with Roz, and had pictures taken.

Sir Peter welcomed her, explained the purpose of her visit, and Roz then spoke saying she chose Madang on the advice of Jean Michel Cousteau who visited Madang in the 80′s with his father, Jacques Cousteau, the famous family known for their underwater research and filming, both of whom spent several months at the Madang Resort with their famous vessels making a film.

Picture: Peter Barter.

Roz spoke of the millions of strokes and together she had crossed an ocean; she went on to tell the people that they too could make a contribution by many people doing small things to look after the environment.

She told the crowd that during her stay she would visit schools, meet the students and talk to them about protecting the planet, our only planet!

Numerous people presented bilum bags, yabob pots and other gifts as an appreciation and the formal welcome was done by children from Milne Bay and students of Krangket Island.

Posted by Rita Savage.

Position at 18.14 Thursday June 3rd Madang time: -05.28783S  145.92007E

More visitors: aboard Sir Peter Barter’s motor yacht Kalibobo Spirit. A number of people from Madang arrived to give Roz a tremendous message of welcome – and a basket of fruit! They are looking forward to welcoming her to Madang in the morning.

Announcement: The name drawn from those who paid $100 or more in Nova’s recent contest is Joan Sherwood.

Latest position: -05.32717S 146.04131E

Posted by Rita Savage on Thursday June 3rd.

Following the visit by Sir Peter Barter on his helicopter, Roz has had another visitor.

On Thursday morning Jan Messersmith, a resident of Madang, went out on his boat “Faded Glory” to make contact with Roz.  This is part of the message he later sent to me: “I went out at about 09:00 and found Roz a little less than 20 miles out a little before 11:00. I approached her slowly and introduced myself. At the time, there was virtually no wind. After a brief chat she got back to rowing. I think that her intention was to see if she could get in before dark. After a while, she signalled me over and we agreed that the numbers just weren’t there – she would arrive, provided conditions did not change, between 19:00 and 21:00. She told me that she would rather just take it easy and hold off so that she can arrive in the morning. She asked me to meet her out at the entrance to Dallmann Passage (right at the entrance to Madang Harbour) at 08:00.

She seemed in excellent spirits, despite the wind problem earlier. It took me about an hour to get back to Madang. The ocean was a beautiful indigo mirror with no wind and flying fish all around.”

So, Friday June 4^th it will be. Before long we will be able to announce the winner of the competition to guess when Roz would arrive at her destination. Thanks to all who took part. We are grateful too to those who have recently made contributions: David Tangye, Karen Morss, Richard Cort, Jessica Switzer, Susan Bartlett, Claus Anbergen, Eric Lehmann, Joan Sherwood, Doug Grandt, Diane Freeman, Oliver Thompson, Suwin Chan and Elizabeth Duke.

Now we eagerly await Roz’s arrival at Madang! And celebrate wherever we are, at all that Roz has achieved, by rowing solo across the mighty Pacific.

Update byRita, after speaking to Roz at 7.15am Madang time.

Roz has reported that a headwind is making her progress extremely slow and she cannot possibly reach Madang by 2pm Thursday. This has been reported to those who are organising the welcome for her in Madang, rearranged for 6pm.

About midday Roz will be contacted again to see how she is progressing. She only has twenty miles to go, but is really battling against that headwind, achieving a speed of less than 1 knot.

Latest known position:  -05.45S, 146.26E

Dictated by Roz at 21:32 local (Madang) time and transcribed by her mother Rita Savage.

Position: -05.47589  146.30901

Photograph from Helicopter

I had visitors this afternoon. I had spoken earlier today with Sir Peter Barter, former Governor of Papua New Guinea, who has been so helpful in arranging local arrival logistics for me. He warned me that he would be dropping in this afternoon in his helicopter to make a delivery. So about 4.30 I was on the alert and listening out for it when the small helicopter loomed into view from the blue sky. They lowered a bucket, just out of reach of my boat hook. I know that I promised never to go more than an arm’s length from my boat ever again but this one was important – there were beers at stake, so I quickly dived in and made my way over to the bucket while they hovered overhead, in confidence that  they would not let me drown having come this far. I got to the bucket and with a few strokes managed to make it back to the boat safely.

I waved goodbye to Sir Peter, and I am looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow.  Inside the bucket was an assortment of goodies: mobile phone with a local SIM card in it, so that we can liaise on final arrangements; three beers as promised; a ham and cheese sandwich, made by Sir Peter himself, I believe; and some information about the Madang Resort which is going to be my home for the next four weeks. There was also an assortment of local information, a newspaper announcing my arrival, and a letter from Sir Peter himself. It was a bit like Christmas, opening up my stocking-full of goodies and everything in it was extremely welcome, especially the beers which had been very thoughtfully packed in ice, so they were still nice and cold.

While I sipped my beer I read through all the information, including the stuff about the Madang resort which looks absolutely gorgeous and I am very much looking forward to making its acquaintance. So, now all I have to do is get there. A slight hitch there is that the conditions here have really calmed down. The winds and the currents have died away since yesterday, so far from having to drag my oars metaphorically to delay my arrival until Thursday afternoon, I am now actually having to row through the night in order to get there in time! But from what I’ve seen of the Madang Resort, it is going to well worth the extra effort.  I am stoking myself with chocolate-coffee-flavoured Larabars, the only form of caffeine I have on board, and in for the long haul.  Now 33 miles away from Madang, and will keep rowing until I get to about 20 or so miles away, and if there is any time between then and the time I have to get up I will have a quick kip at that point.

Now I am well and truly into the home stretch, and apparently a great welcome awaits me in Papua New Guinea, with Jan Messersmith, a photographer, and local canoeists due to come out, and hopefully a few people coming down to wave to me as I approach the Medang Resort.  Am now really looking forward to making landfall and after a full night of rowing it is going to be a very welcome sight.

For more pictures see: http://malumnalu.blogspot.com/

PS Request from Roz: As she does not have voicemail set up for the satphone, please do not try to leave messages for her – she won’t receive them.

Nova’s News:

Check on the GoRozGo button for latest details.

Day 44 –  Too Fast!

Brief message from Roz’s mother, Rita Savage.

Tuesday evening Roz’s time – and she is planning to arrive in Madang on Friday. However, a strong wind has crept up on her, and is driving her along at 4 or 5 knots. Unless she keeps rowing she will be going towards land, so is out there now doing her best to keep on the right track.

She has asked me to do a quick message just to keep you informed. This speed would have been very acceptable out on the open ocean, but not now when she is trying to time her arrival in Madang.

Blog from Roz at 3am ship’s time.

Dictated by Roz and transcribed by Rita Savage.

When I went to bed Monday night, I set my alarm to go off every two hours. At one point, awaking from sleep, I opened one eye and squinted at the GPS and saw that I was heading straight for an island. I jumped out of bed in a hurry and started rowing.  I ended up in a load of trash and general flotsam and jetsam that had accumulated into a sort of gunge.  I had to try to row out of there as it is a bit difficult to row when you can’t actually get the oars in the water with so much stuff floating on the surface.  Plus it was dark.

So that was the start of the day, and for most of the morning it didn’t get much better. I’ve never seen standing waves on the ocean before, a bit like you get on white water rapids. It was really strange, the sound, and the look and the feel of everything was completely different from what I am used to on the ocean. Progress was really slow. I wasn’t even managing to make one knot for most of the morning. It took me just over six hours to do barely six miles and it was a real struggle.

But then, when I got out of the standing waves everything completely changed.  The wind picked up a bit and in the next six hours I did twenty miles. So all of this is making it difficult to come up with any kind of a sensible ETA for my arrival in Medang. Will I do six miles in six hours, or twenty miles in six hours?

It’s been generally quick for much of the day and the rest of the night, that is why I have been up so late to avoid a head-on collision with Long Island and if I carry on at this rate then I am looking at an ETA of 7am on Thursday morning local time. Unfortunately this is not good – the one day that I have been asked NOT to arrive is of course Thursday for local logistical reasons. But at the moment I can’t see how I can possibly avoid arriving on Thursday so I am not quite sure how we are going to get around this problem.

I did try putting out the sea anchor to slow myself down but that unfortunately just dragged me off course.  That was what caused the problem with Long Island. So it looks like I really don’t have much choice but to push on regardless and just hope that people in Madang can fit in around my schedule, or nature’s schedule as I career rather wildly across the ocean towards their harbour. Isn’t it always the way that if I was out in the middle of the ocean I would be thanking my lucky stars for these fantastic conditions but then when they strike I am surrounded by islands and it’s a rather different story.  I guess my priority has to be safety and at the moment it looks like the safest way for me to get to Madang is to carry on as I am and just hope that they can fit in around me or else we do a second ceremonial arrival after the actual event.

So watch out Madang, ready or not, here I come!

Nova’s News:

Arriving Antigua March 2006

As Roz approaches the final stretch of the race we are hoping to reach the 10,000 dollar bench mark in her fundraiser to help pay for the remaining costs of her epic adventure and future foundation. For this last week all who donate 100 dollars or more will be entered into a drawing to win a memorabilia of Roz’s final Pacific row, putting her in the history books as, “The first woman to row the Pacific solo.” The memorabilia will include a pair of her well worn gloves framed, with an autographed photo of her arrival in Madang, Papua New Guinea. Please chip in and let’s give her a surge of support as she rows the final strokes of a world record title. Go Roz Go!