Tonight I gave the first part of my two-gig presentation. After all, that is why I am here. I was just showing the Part 4 of my Atlantic video, the triumphant arrival in Antigua, when a member of the professional staff came over and whispered in my ear, “There are killer whales outside. We might have to leave the Q&A till another time”.

Killer Whales

I spent the remaining 2 minutes of the video in agony. Forget the presentation, I wanted to be out there seeing the whales!

The moment the video was over, we made the announcement, and I high-tailed it out of the lounge along with (or even ahead of) everybody else.

It turned out that these were not just any old killer whales. These were the “Type A”s – not meaning that they were ultra-competitive and driven, but rather than out of the 3 general types of killer whales identified by scientists, this relatively rare type are larger (around  10 metres, or 30 feet) and prey on large mammals.

Scientists in hot pursuit

While we all piled out on deck to take photos, the onboard scientists launched a Zodiac and set out in hot pursuit to try and take a tissue sample using a harpoon gun. This involves shooting from a distance of around 10 metres – not too far, not too close – a dart that would extract a small and painless sample from the thick whale hide, allowing them to find out all kinds of information about that whale – its gender, diet, and even whether it was pregnant or not.

From our vantage point high on the Explorer, we could see the merry chase that the whales were leading the scientists. From their low vantage point, bouncing around on the waves, they couldn’t see so easily where the whales might next surface, or when the whales were behind them.

Red-coated homo sapiens

Standing on deck, we were shouting, “it’s behind you!” like the audience in a pantomime…. but to no avail. They returned empty-handed. The joy and frustration of scientific field work.

In the course of well over 100 presentations, in over a dozen countries, I had never before been upstaged by a bunch of killer whales. But that’s okay. I can speak anytime. Killer whales – well, there’s something you don’t see every day.

No Antarctic blog would be complete without at least one penguin pic

63 31.09 degrees South, 58 52.65 degrees West

Sunrise 0416, Sunset 2145

Adelie penguins chilling out on an ice berg

This morning I woke to the sight of icebergs outside my cabin window. We were entering the Weddell Sea, and seeing for the first time the great white continent of Antarctica. The quote on our day’s itinerary was apposite – Frank Worsley, captain of the Endurance, describing icebergs:

“Swans of weird shape pecked at our planks, a gondola steered by a giraffe ran foul of us, which much amused a duck sitting on a crocodile’s head…. All the strange fantastic shapes rose and fell in stately cadence with a rustling, whispering sound and hollow echoes to the thudding seas.”

You might justifiably wonder what Frank Worsley had been smoking in the captain’s quarters, but take it from me – anything you ever heard about icebergs can’t even begin to do them justice. This morning in the fitness room, as I laboured on the cross-trainer, I was pleasantly distracted from my exercise by the sight of a cluster of penguins perched atop a slanted iceberg, like a picture straight out of a National Geographic magazine. I looked across at the man on the treadmill, and he was looking and smiling too.

Penguins taking the plunge - National Geographic Explorer in the distance

Shortly after breakfast we arrived at Brown Bluff, a volcano at the northern tip of the Antarctic Peninsula, and took a walk to the top of the glacier. Shortly thereafter, I was standing on the black rocky beach near Mike Nolan, one of the resident photographers, when an announcement came over his radio that we had the option to take an iceberg tour by Zodiac inflatable boat. I didn’t need asking twice.

The tour was amazing. I never would have known ice came in so many different colours. We saw leopard seals and crabeater seals lazing languidly on flat bergs, and penguins porpoising elegantly through the water around our boat, very different from the ungainly waddling (or should that be Weddelling?) creatures we had seen on dry land. These were adelie penguins, different from the chinstraps, macaronis and gentoos that we saw yesterday, but equally cute.

Leopard seal

Just as we pulled up alongside our mother ship, the National Geographic Explorer, a huge section of ice calved from a nearby berg. The main berg, unstabilised by the loss of weight on one side, rolled with majestic slowness. The ten of us in the Zodiac gasped in awe. It was the perfect finale.

The aftermath of the breaking berg - a spreading ring of fractured ice

Other Stuff:

A slightly sombre P.S.: our tour guide in the Zodiac told us that the creatures here that feed on Antarctic krill may be at risk. Climate change has had a greater impact on the Antarctic than in other areas of the world, leading to a rise in the water temperature of one degree Celsius. It is expected that this will adversely affect the krill, with a knock-on effect on the penguins, whales, seals and fish that depend on them for their primary food source. This wonderful Antarctic world that I am only just discovering may not exist in its present form for much longer. It is changing already.

Snug as a bug in my new Explorer parka

And another gratuitous iceberg shot - just because they're pretty.

My new best friend

Who knows why we find penguins so endearing? Maybe it’s because they walk upright like we do. Or because their waddling walk is so klutzishly cute. Or because their faces seem so expressive. But whatever the reason, they are adorable, and I duly spent much of our first afternoon ashore laughing at their penguinny antics.

The penguins here have no fear of these strange, red-clad creatures in their midst. We are supposed to keep a distance of at least 15 feet from any Antarctic wildlife, but it’s easier said than done when the curious younger birds shamble right up to you and start pecking gently at your kneecaps.

We haven’t yet seen them in their most photogenic environment, on the ice. Hannah Point on Livingston Island in the South Shetland Islands has a little bit of snow and ice, but it’s mostly mud, rock, and penguin excrement. It smelled like a zoo – pretty pungent. You wouldn’t want to be near a penguin when its tail goes up and it emits a two-foot long projectile of poop. Quite remarkable.

We were lucky enough to see macaroni penguins as well as the more common chinstraps and gentoos. There was also a colony of sealions. They are shedding their pelts at the moment, so to keep warm they all lie on top of each other in a heap of excreting, belching, argumentative blubber. Very attractive.

A chinstrap penguin checks out the humans

Now I am back in my comfortable, warm cabin on the National Geographic Explorer. My boots, scrubbed and disinfected are down in the mud room, three decks below. My waterproof trousers and jacket have been hosed down. And yet I could swear I can still smell penguin poo. Where is that smell coming from?!

The bodily functions of birds seem to be a recurring theme in my blogs – sorry about that. At least (unless Australia’s Leeuwin Current has its wicked way) it’s highly unlikely I’ll get any penguins on board during the Indian Ocean crossing, now just 2 months away. Penguin poop is possibly even stinkier than booby poop so, endearing as they are, no penguins on board!

Other Stuff:

Despite June’s best efforts, progress in Australia has been slowed by the Australia Day celebrations. But the deposit cheque has now been sent so the renovations on the boat can proceed. The standard Australian colour chart does not having anything resembling the right shade of purple, so I’m hoping we can get a custom colour mix. “Wisteria” or “Jacaranda” just won’t do. I’m going for Cadbury’s Dairy Milk purple.

At last I’m managing to get some consistent training in. This morning I was in the gym around 5.15 to beat the rush. An hour on the cross-trainer practically flew by, as I watched the petrels, terns and albatrosses swooping around in the wake of the ship and listened to some great rocking music on my iPhone. And hung onto the handles for dear life.

Too bad I narrowly missed being on the same trip as my friend Margot Gerritsen of the Smart Energy Show. She was on board a couple of weeks ago.

I do my first presentation tomorrow. I am quite looking forward to it, although slightly daunted by the pressure of trying to live up to my onboard job title of “Global Luminary” (and names like these will be a tough act to follow). Thanks for the Facebook suggestions on how I might do so!

My special friend and the National Geographic Explorer

"Ya tawking ter me?!"

Synchronised penguins

Yin and yang penguins

Getting to know you...

A chick enjoys a meal of regurgitated fish - yummy

The Drake Passage has a scary reputation, and that’s not surprising (glad it wasn’t like this!). It’s the narrowest point between Antarctica and any other landmass, so all the formidable force of the Southern Ocean gets squished into a narrow passage between two continents.

In fact, according to our lecture on plate tectonics today, it was only relatively recently (in geological terms) that South America and the Antarctic Peninsula parted company. I tried to imagine what it must have been like when the continents finally broke apart, when the ocean finally got free license to race around the South Pole. It must have been like a dam bursting… but of course long before human beings were around to witness such an event. Can you imagine how it would be now? The news stations would be all over it. “And here it goes, the first trickle of Pacific waters into the Atlantic Ocean, and oh my word, just look at those waters go!” It would have made a bursting levee look like a leaky tap.

Calm conditions in the Drake Passage

We have apparently been extraordinarily fortunate. We didn’t know if we would get the “Drake Lake” or the “Drake Shake”. Today brought beautifully calm conditions, no doubt to the immense relief of the numerous passengers with seasickness patches stuck behind their ears. Today’s lectures were well-attended, with no absentees due to illness, and the crew were even so bold as to bring Captain’s Cocktails forward to this evening, confident that the mix of free drinks and newbie seafarers would not result in vomitorious (is that a word?) disaster.

Nevertheless, there was enough bounce to make this morning’s workout in the small fitness room quite interesting. I was glad to be on the cross-trainer, where at least I could hang onto the arm-levers to avoid falling off sideways when the ship rolled. There was a dicey moment when I had a dumbbell in each hand and there was a sideways lurch, and the exercises involving the fitball had an added dimension of complexity, but I got through the workout without undue embarrassment. And the views out over the open ocean, as albatrosses swooped around the ship’s stern, made it worth the effort.

Apart from my workout, I have spent the day preparing the slideshows for the two lectures I will give on this trip, listening to lectures, and snooping around the ship’s bridge – Lindblad Expeditions have an “open bridge” policy, meaning any passenger can go up there and ask as many questions as they like. So I was scoping out all the amazing comms and navigational software that I can only dream of on my budget.

The Antarctic Circle

As I write, we have just crossed 60 degrees South, still some distance from the Antarctic Circle at 66.5 degrees South. To put this in perspective, if we were at a similar latitude in the Northern Hemisphere, we would be in Alaska, or Norway, or Russia.

We had a talk today about the fragile ecology of Antarctica. When we were listening to the talk about the Antarctic Treaty, and how this uniquely unspoiled continent might soon be mined, fished, and exploited like every other part of the world, I found myself choking up with tears. I haven’t even seen this place yet, and already I feel strongly that it must be preserved as a pristine wilderness – or at least the closest we have to such a thing any more. Goodness knows how emotional I’m going to get once I actually see it.

View from the bridge - just a tad more technological than on my boat

Ooh! I see we are now at 63 degrees South, and progressing at around 14 knots towards the Antarctic Peninsula. We should be able to see land around 6am tomorrow. That’s less than 7 hours away. Time I went to bed!

Satellite images of ice and clouds - to the layperson, not easy to tell the difference between the two

Last year’s TED Mission Blue conference in the Galapagos Islands took place on board the National Geographic Endeavor, in association with Lindblad Expeditions. After the conference I wrote to Sven Lindblad, suggesting they might want an ocean rower to come and speak on some forthcoming trip. He wrote back saying “How about Antarctica?”

Jackpot!

All aboard! The National Geographic Explorer

So here I am, now on board the National Geographic Explorer, cruising through the Beagle Passage as I write.

Today started early, WAY too early, in Santiago, Chile. We flew to Ushuaia, Argentina, which claims to be the End of the Earth. I have a whole ocean of ideas about the End of the Earth, but that’s another story. Let’s just take it geographically for now.

We landed in Ushuaia around noon, and walked the last section of Highway 3, the Pan American Highway, down to Pataia Bay. There was a dramatic drop in temperature. “It’s a bit chilly (Chile), or rather, a bit Argentina,” I joked lamely to a fellow traveller. She didn’t get it. Not surprising really.

From there we took a boat, via various malodorous colonies of seals and birds, back to Ushuaia, where we boarded the ship that will be our home for the next 10 days. Tomorrow we face the Drake Passage, one of the most notorious stretches of water in the world. Will it be Drake Lake or Drake Shake? The forecast is good, but many of my fellow voyagers are already sporting sea sickness patches behind their ears – just in case.

T’would be most embarrassing if the resident “Global Luminary” (don’t ask me, I didn’t create my job description) was chucking up over the side. So I will attempt to maintain a truly British stiff upper lip, and cast iron stomach, and staunch sea legs….. and fingers crossed. (All sounds rather contortionist and uncomfortable.)

I will do my best to post regular updates over the coming days, but we have been warned that internet access may decline as we reach more extreme latitudes. And we know that internet access from boats can be extremely trying…. Meanwhile, keep an eye on the Daily Expedition Reports from on board – the expedition lead team will no doubt have better-informed updates on daily events. They may even know what the “birds” are….

Sealions of very different degrees of cuteness

Birds. Can anybody give me a more precise identification?!

Pataia Bay

Don’t you just love those conversations where you come away feeling like you’ve not just had a meeting of minds, but you’ve also, in some small way, made the world a better place? That you’ve connected with some kindred spirits, supported them in their journey, reinforced that they are on the right track, and hopefully figured out a few new ways that you’re going to work together in the future?

I’m feeling very lucky. I seem to have more than my fair share of those kind of conversations. During the time since I last blogged, here are some examples:

Sydney sunset - see the Opera House on the right?

1. Sydney 1: Kim McKay of Momentum2 PR – first time I’d met her, but it turns out we know a load of people in common, largely through her National Geographic connections and the work she did with David de Rothschild and the Plastiki expedition. Last month she was running Oprah’s PR – next month mine?!

2. Sydney 2: Noelle Sadinsky – someone I met a long time ago (1994) but don’t get to see often enough. She introduced me to a band of friends, female entrepreneurs who are go-getting women that meet a couple of times a month to share stories and constructive (occasionally very frank) feedback.

3. Sydney 3: Matt McFadyen – again, first time I’d met him, but what a star! Explorer and very good corporate motivational speaker. I was completely smitten with the IML technology he uses in his talks, and am already figuring out how to use it in mine to make them more interactive and engaging. After all, isn’t life all about the decisions that we make?

4. Sydney 4: Kathryn Cussell – my old Portsmouth flatmate from circa 1995 when we both worked for CHP Consulting. Much water under the bridge since then, but I will be doing a speaking gig for

Mamaki eco village, New Zealand

CHP when I’m back in Oz next month. I was the 14th person ever to join CHP. Now they have nearly 200. That way could have lain riches, but I chose a different path…

5. Sydney 5: (wow, this was a lot packed into 2 days!) – meeting with Greenpeace. Looking at working with then on GE (genetically engineered) food products. How do you feel about this? Are you okay with GE? Against it? Should consumers be given the right to choose through accurate labelling?

5. New Zealand: stayed with Chris Bone of Oceanswatch in Mamaki eco village, and Rob Hamill (author of The Naked Rower) & Rachel Hamill, and George and Astrid Van Meeuwen came up to stay. During a long, wet weekend we drank many cups of tea (and maybe a few glasses of wine too) and discussed the state of the world – specifically the environment. What did I take away from it? Yes, we’re in deep trouble. But yes, we can still do something about it. In fact, we have to.

6. Auckland Airport, with airport security: yes, you did read that correctly. I had a life-enhancing conversation with the NZ equivalent of the TSA. As he searched my bag, he asked me where I was going and why. So I told him about the cruise ship, and said I was looking forward to hearing the other talks by marine biologists, environmental scientists etc. And he asked me if I believed in climate change.

Walking and talking with friend Tolly in Auckland

So I said I’d better, seeing as I campaign about it. And asked him if he did. Oh boy, did he?! He went off on a whole spiel about climate change, population control, the need for reducing consumption, the myth of infinite growth on a finite planet…. wow! Eventually he really couldn’t pretend to be searching my backpack any more and inconveniently had to go and do his job.

As we parted I told him to keep spreading the message. It felt like two people in a secret society meeting up and connecting. I was really impressed. I don’t know how often he has that conversation – but just imagine if you could get every airport security official, taxi driver, hairdresser etc etc – everybody who has interaction with a lot of people – talking about this. Wouldn’t that be amazingly powerful in spreading the ripples of change!

View from my window in Santiago, Chile

Other Stuff:

Here are a couple of life-enhancing links I’ve been following recently, inspired by all of the above:

Lynn Twist on the nature of money

Prof Tim Jackson on Prosperity Without Growth

Meanwhile, progress continues apace back in Perth. Boat about to be repainted (purple), deliveries arriving daily from sponsors around the world, June working on setting up speaking opportunities, a lot going on. Meanwhile, my To Do list includes getting book deal, setting up film production for the Pacific documentary, revamping my website (speak now if you have an opinion!), raising another $25,000 before the start of the Indian Ocean row, and ensuring a plastic-bag-free Olympics in London in 2012. But apart from that, my time is my own!

Goods in a Santiago store in Centro Artesenal Los Domenicos

But for now I am back on the road again – or in fact, getting on a boat. I am writing this blog from Santiago, Chile. Tomorrow morning we leave early to fly to Ushuiaia in Argentina, where we will board the National Geographic Explorer to sail to Antarctica. We spend 5 days there, exploring by kayak and Zodiac. I get to go free, in exchange for giving two on-board presentations. Not a bad perk of the “job”!

Perth's famous DNA Tower, in King's Park near the house where we've been staying

These two weeks in Perth are speeding by all too quickly, and soon I will be hitting the road again, not to return until just 3 weeks before my launch date.

The goal of this first visit was to do as much as possible to get the boat and attendant technology ready. We’ve made good progress. Yesterday we unloaded everything off the boat and moved it to secure storage at the Royal Perth Yacht Club. It’s not only the boat that is looking a bit ocean-weary. A lot of my kit looks rather the worse for wear as well. But looks aren’t everything – provided it still works, not everything has to be new and pristine. Reduce, reuse, recycle….

A few new shiny goodies have been turning up, though. Many thanks to Pippa McErvale of Jerdon for the Belkin iPhone/iPod accessories (pictured). Thanks also to my friends at Green People for the sun lotion and other organic skin products (I use their After Sun as a body lotion year-round) , Biocare for the vitamins and minerals (I use Mineral Complex, Jointguard, Vyta-Myn Complex and Calcium EAP), and Kakadu for the golf/rowing gloves. All essential!

The plan is that progress will continue in my absence. Next week the Spectra watermaker should be reinstalled after its overhaul. I’m also looking forward to receiving a quote for repainting the boat.

I’ve decided on a change from the silver paintwork. It makes me wince when people describe Sedna as a “high-tech rowboat”. She’s really just a basic boat, with an extremely low-tech engine – me. I do have technology on board, sure, but it doesn’t make the boat go any faster.

My theory is that you can make anything appear high-tech if you paint it silver. The BBC Special Effects Department banked on this fact in the 70s when silver paint was used liberally on otherwise very dodgy sci fi sets. So I’m going to go for the reverse effect, and go for a nice, low-tech, highly spiritual purple. The painting contractor didn’t even bat an eyelid when I made my request. So purple it will be.

Other Stuff:

June in Perth

Thanks to the gym staff at the University of Western Australia. Pia in particular has been very helpful, and June and I have been making the most of the facilities. It has been good to have June here to train alongside me. I don’t find motivation too much of a problem when on my boat. After all, there isn’t much else to do on a rowboat in the middle of the ocean. But it’s harder when on dry land, with so many enjoyable distractions around, so having a training partner most definitely helps. Training has focused on strength sessions alternated with cardio interval workouts. And lots of core. Oh, don’t we just love the plank (not)!

Thanks also to Clem Rogers and all at the Royal Perth Yacht Club, for their hospitality and kindness towards me and the Sedna Solo. Very much appreciated.

I found out yesterday that I shall be going to Hawaii in March for the fifth International Marine Debris Conference, run by the United Nations Environment Programme. The timing will be tight – it punches a hole in that final 3-week period in Perth – but it is an unmissable opportunity to connect with like-minded people who are working to reduce the amounts of toxic plastic getting into our ecosphere, to learn from them, and hopefully to offer some insights of my own on how to get the message out to a wider audience.

A book recommendation: I’ve been reading a borrowed copy of A Voyage for Madmen, the story of the 1968 Golden Globe round the world solo yacht race. This was when Donald Crowhurst, in an attempt to avoid either death in an unseaworthy boat or bankruptcy by pulling out of the race, decided to fake his race position reports. Ultimately, unable to sustain the deception, he took a long walk off a short boat. The other competitors are equally intriguing characters. Bernard Moitissier is my favourite – an amazing seafarer, and fabulously eccentric. A great read. The documentary of the same story, Deep Water, is incredibly moving too.

Today the voting for the National Geographic Adventurer of the Year closes. Enormous thanks to all who have been faithfully voting every day for me. I have no more idea than you do who might have won. Jessica Watson is a national hero here in Australia, so I expect that she has done very well. We will all find out in February. Regardless of the outcome, I have been very touched by all your messages, and I am deeply grateful for your loyal support. In my view, we’re all winners!

There will be many decisions to be made over the coming months, but possibly the most important one is exactly when and from where I depart to row across the Indian Ocean. I am extremely grateful to Sarah Outen for most kindly checking out the territory in advance.

Ocean currents (in colour) off the West Coast of Australia (land is white)

In particular, Sarah discovered the hard way just how tough an adversary the Leeuwin Current can be. A strong, south-flowing current that parallels the coast of Western Australia, it swept Sarah too far south. She ended up doing what she calls her “warm-up lap”, an 11-day loop from Fremantle back to Fremantle.

Warmups are all very well, but I will be at sea for around 5 months as it is, taking the significantly longer route northwest to Mumbai in India, so I’d really just as soon skip the warmup and get on with the real thing.

The rest of the Indian Ocean. And you thought that oceans were just big expanses of blue!

It looks as if my best strategy will be to hug the coast as I head north towards Geraldton, then peel away and out into the Indian Ocean. I’ll just need to make sure that my hug doesn’t become TOO intimate and I end up shipwrecked. This had better be one of those kind of arms-length kind of hugs at a safe distance of several miles, rather than a hello-you’re-my-best-friend-ever kind of a hug. According to my weatherman, Lee Bruce, “It looks like the shoaling is good 20nm wide at the narrowest point, so you should be able to work within that 20nm corridor.”

Downwind to Mumbai!

The good news is that then the winds should in theory be really helpful, whizzing me northwest and India-wards. Look at all those lovely wind arrows. Having had to crab my way across the Pacific Ocean for the last 3 years, always trying to push south, it would be exhilarating to point my bows straight downwind for a change.

Other Stuff:

I’ve just finished reading a couple of contrasting ocean rowing books – both darned good reads:

A Little Goes A Long Way: James “Tiny” Little’s blog from his mid-Atlantic crossing, told in Tiny’s inimitable, understated style.

A Pearl In A Storm: Tori Murden was the first woman to row solo across an ocean. Favourite line: “Let’s face it: normal, well-adjusted women don’t row alone across oceans.”

Unlike me, Tori looks like a proper ocean rower – six foot tall and most definitely a tough lady. This is why I make sure to correct anyone who mistakenly introduces me as the first solo woman to row the Atlantic. I would not want to get on the wrong side of her.

On her first attempt, in the North Atlantic, her boat capsized 15 or 16 times in 72 hours during Hurricane Danielle. She sustained extensive injuries, and eventually pressed the emergency button on her EPIRB beacon to request rescue. To her great credit, she went back for more, and successfully crossed the Atlantic by the equatorial route.

The book was a sobering reminder of just how different a creature the North Atlantic is from the mid-Atlantic. Rougher, colder, stormier, altogether more dangerous.  I certainly don’t under-estimate the challenge that I will be tackling in 2012. My mother gave me this book for Christmas. I wonder if she’s trying to tell me something?

LAST FEW DAYS OF VOTING!

By the way, just 5 days left to vote for your “People’s Choice” National Geographic Adventurer of the Year. You can vote once in any 24 hour period at the National Geographic website. Preferably for me, please!

Global ocean currents

And the other factor: shipping routes. Not too bad on the Indian Ocean, but check out the North Atlantic.

New right hand woman June Barnard (right) with Margo Pellegrino (not the Australian Margot) and me. (I do not really have the GGB growing out of my head.)

Yesterday afternoon I arrived in Perth, Western Australia, for the final three months of preparation for Eat Pray Row, my bid to row from Australia to India. June arrived from San Francisco a day before me – she will be working with me over few months to help with logistics and anything and everything else. She and one of our local helpers, Margot, picked me up from the airport.

I didn’t have much time to recover from the flight – we had to head straight from the airport to the P&O Terminal to pick up my boat and move her to the Royal Perth Yacht Club Annexe before P&O closed for the day. Craig Rourke, who has been babysitting my boat since she arrived in the container from Papua New Guinea showed us to a corner of the huge warehouse – and there she was, looking very familiar but rather more shabby than I remembered her.

Scruffy Sedna (now reverting to her pre-Brocade name)

We hadn’t had the time or the infrastructure to refurbish her in Kiribati, and the final stage of the row + a 2,700 mile journey + a few months in a busy commercial warehouse have done little to enhance her looks. She is rusty, dirty, and badly in need of repainting. In theory it doesn’t really matter what she looks like, but in practice it’s very important for crew morale (not to mention photo opps) that she looks shipshape and pretty. So I hope I can raise enough money for a paint job.

But the more immediate problem was that the trailer’s towing hitch had got dinged during her stay in the warehouse, breaking the pin, so there was no way we could attach it to the towbar of the car. So she has had to stay put for now. Craig very decently confessed that the damage had happened after her arrival, and promised that they would put it right. It will just take a day or two.

So the first task now is to mobilise the Australian network. Sarah Outen has been really helpful in introducing me to her local contacts, amongst them Brit Clem Rogers at the Royal Perth Yacht Club, who was our next port of call (so to speak) yesterday. Dubbed by Sarah “the man who can”, he could not have been more helpful.

And many more folks are coming forward to help. In the car yesterday Margot, June and I were talking about the perils and pleasures of travel, and how when you get into a fix someone or something always materialises to help out. I will never cease to be amazed, impressed, and heartwarmed by the kindness of strangers.

Other Stuff:

First things first. I needed to get my iPhone fully functional, because the next few months are going to be intense and I need my personal technology up and running. June and I spent a very productive half hour in the Telstra store this morning securing Australian prepaid SIM cards for our iPhones, and a mobile WiFi unit.

At last I have a semi-decent internet connection. I’m sitting in a cafe next door to Perth’s Apple Store, freeloading off their WiFi connection. So at last I’ve been able to upload my slideshow of the highlights of 2010. Enjoy!

It has been quite a year. A quick round-up, in words and pictures….

At Burning Man in September

Countries visited – 12:
United Kingdom
USA
Ecuador
Canada
Kiribati
Papua New Guinea
Malaysia
Cambodia
Philippines
Thailand
Hong Kong
Turkey

Presenting for National Geographic in Seattle in March

Presentations given: 47
1 in Vail
3 in Seattle
1 in Ecuador (TED)
3 in Papua New Guinea
1 in Malaysia
4 in Philippines
30 on speaking tour
2 in Istanbul
2 in London

Miles rowed: about 2,000

Friends made: countless

January:

2010 started out at Romy’s farmhouse in Wales, seeing the New Year in with a few good friends.

Then from snowy Wales it was off to Hawaii, for a few meetings in Honolulu followed by a few weeks of peace and calm and productive hard work at Henk Rogers’ ranch on the Big Island.

Greg's boat on Vancouver Islands

February:

My first speaking engagement of the year was at the Vail Symposium in Colorado. I arrived, my luggage didn’t. But with a bit of chauffeuring by David Saunders and a whizz around Denver’s thrift stores, a new outfit was found without undue trouble or expense.

I traveled via San Francisco for a swift round of meetings, then up to Oregon to spend the rest of February and early March at Michelle Slade’s house in Hood River. As with January, a productive time in one of my favourite parts of the world.

March:

Off to Seattle for three presentations as part of the National Geographic Live speaker series, at the 2,500 seat Benaroya Hall. I discovered that I really, really like talking to big audiences. The energy was just fantastic.

Then up into Canada to Vancouver Island to spend a week with adventurers Colin and Julie Angus. Luckily my visit coincided with Greg Kolodziejzyk conducting the sea trials of WiTHiN, his sleek pedal-powered craft. I took it out for a spin and achieved speeds that me and my rowboat can only dream of.

Arrival in Papua New Guinea in June

April:

TED Mission Blue conference in the Galapagos Islands, on board the National Geographic Endeavour. Hobnobbed with the likes of Leonardo diCaprio, Ed Norton, Glenn Close, Chevy Chase, Damien Rice and Jean Michel Cousteau, and became quite possibly the first TED speaker ever to retrieve their notes from their bra in mid-speech (fortunately edited out of the online version).

Then back to “work” – off to Kiribati for the third and final stage of my Pacific row.

19th April to 4th June: row, row, row your boat… to become the first woman to row solo across the Pacific.

June:

Spent in Madang, Papua New Guinea, getting boat ready for shipping and giving presentations. And doing as much diving as I could find time for on Madang’s incredible reefs, still largely unspoiled by coral bleaching.

The welcoming committee

July:

Still in PNG, but a change of scenery, joining the crew of Oceanswatch’s Moksha boat to travel around the islands, spreading the word about the importance and practicalities of marine conservation.

July – August:

Talked my way around Asia, in the trip I had promised myself as a reward for finishing the Pacific. As I usually do, I combined business and pleasure.

Campaigning from the top of Mount Kinabalu, highest mountain in southeast Asia

Malaysia: joined forces with local coalition of nonprofits to campaign against plans for a coal-fired power plant in an environmentally sensitive location.

Cambodia: spent 3 days in the capital, Phnom Penh, including a very photogenic boat trip to Silk Island.

Philippines: spent two weeks as the guest of El Nido eco-resort in exchange for doing several presentations. Also presented to WWF-Philippines and the Young Presidents’ Organization in Manila.

Planting a tree in the Philippines

Thailand: retreat on Koh Samui.

Hong Kong: presentations at the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club and the Royal Geographical Society.

September:

Blue Ocean Film Festival in Monterey – a happy reunion with many TED alums – then Burning Man event in the desert of Nevada, thanks to Aleksey and Elena and their crazy Russian photographer friends. Memorable, amazing, unique experience. The counter-culture lives on.

With Angela Hey on the California Climate Ride

September – October:

The Speaking Tour. Santa Monica, Durham, Asheville, Greenville, Atlanta, Dallas, Washington DC, San Francisco, Sacramento, Vancouver, San Diego, Minneapolis and New York – with the California Climate Ride thrown in for good measure. 30 speaking engagements in 5 weeks, plus countless meetings and interviews. Thanks once again to everybody who arranged events and provided hospitality. You were awesome!

October:

Istanbul, Turkey, for the World Coastal Rowing Championships. Promptly came down with a cold, but managed to resurrect myself sufficiently for two more presentations and several interviews.

Campaigning for a plastic bag free Olympics

November:

London. Meetings, interviews, recovery. Launched the campaign for a plastic-bag-free Olympics in association with Greener Upon Thames.

A week in the Lake District with my mother and sister, whom I don’t get to see often enough.

November-December:

Salcombe, Devon. Went there with three objectives: first draft of Pacific book, get fit, lose weight. Managed the first two, but the coffee shops and delis of Salcombe have a lot to answer for. All that writing (110,000 words in 18 days) did give me a fearsome appetite that outweighed (literally) the great workouts with Sylvia and Becky.

The icing on this very tasty cake of a year was being named as one of the National Geographic Adventurers of the Year for 2010.

with Mum

I rounded off December with trips to Cirencester, Leeds, and back to Romy’s in the snow with Mum to celebrate Christmas, bringing the year neatly full circle.

Except that it hasn’t really been a circle. It feels more like an upwards spiral. As time passes, I am learning so many things, and meeting so many people, and as a result am becoming more effective in my role as a campaigner. But still so much more to learn, and so very much more to do…

A huge thanks to all who have made 2010 so special in so many ways. Here’s hoping that 2011 is the best year yet for ALL of us.

Onwards and upwards!

[I've created a slideshow with more pics of the year. I very much doubt I have the bandwidth here to upload it, so will post this blog while I can - and hopefully the slideshow to appear in due course.]