Roz has rowed a good distance from the Australian coast but not quite regained her sea legs yet.
Pictures courtesy of Colin Leonhardt :

Sponsored Miles.
On previous blogs, before Roz’s stopover in Geraldton, we had given names of sponsors up to 200 miles. Roz rowed nearer to 300 due to looping the loops. Fremantle to Geraldton is 241 miles, so we are now giving you the names of sponsors for miles 201 – 241. Future blogs will have sponsors of miles achieved between noon GMT one day and GMT the next.

Grateful thanks to: Eileen Hawkes, Joan Sherwood, Doug and Larry Grandt (for Rochelle), Bleddyn Williams, Chris Ferreira, Anna Wildy, Jeffrey Green, Sue Losson, Florian Thurner, Nancy Bowman, Amanda Atkins, Bankside Consulting, John Sturgeon, Andrew Hindle and Dominic Howell.

Today’s miles: Peter Bromley, Kenny Runnderduck, Claire and Adrian Thornhill, Doug Grandt (for Dimas), Steve Isbell, Ron Bloomquist, Thomas Schoenweitz.

On Wednesday morning, as we drove north from Leeman to Geraldton, I had no idea what was going to happen next. Would we find good people to help reconfigure the watermaker, and to repair the hull? How quickly could we get it done? How much would it all cost?

Underlying all these questions was the biggest question of all: Had it been a good idea to return to shore, risking media attention, hassle and expense, in order to maximise my chances of success on the open ocean? Or would it turn out to be a gamble that failed?

There were many points at which the whole operation could have fallen down. There were so many moving parts that needed to come together – cranes for lifting, trucks for transporting, skilled craftsmen to do the work, not to mention the logistical details of accommodation, transport, and internet access.

Yet somehow, as if by a miracle, it has all been a spectacular success. It has been like surfing a wave of improbability – we were right on the edge, not knowing quite what was going to happen next, but really having no option but to keep moving forwards as the wave gathered momentum. And so here we are, just 3 days after I stood uncertainly on that rickety jetty in Leeman, and we are ready.

Sedna looks as good as new, the watermaker pump moved to a safer location, in a drier locker and protected by a box. The hole in the hull and the damage to the towing eye have been repaired, the paint perfectly colour-matched. My beautiful purple boat is now in the water at the Geraldton Yacht Club, ready for my departure tomorrow morning at 10am local time.

Other Stuff:

I am delighted that the media have been willing to report on the happy end to this story. A camera crew and newspaper reporter were there at the putting-in today, and more media presence expected tomorrow morning. So great to find media willing to report on a good news, positive story.

Thanks to Lesley for the goodie bag today. Lesley is a friend via Angela Madsen, and very thoughtfully brought a bag containing, amongst other things, a pirate, a shark, and a packet of Tim Tams. The perfect sending-off gifts!

It has been a real pleasure to work with Shane Donagen and Glen Reeves over the last few days. It’s a privilege to know these two consummate professionals who take real pride in their work and go the extra mile without being asked.

And finally, thanks to June, without whom this story might have had a very different ending. Thanks, June, for being my partner in crime, henchwoman, and logistics manager par excellence. Thanks for the moral support, the much-needed laughs, and for sharing the chocolate cake.

And yes, I am writing this blog as I watch the royal wedding on TV. What better way to spend my last night on dry land?!

I was very moved to watch this news report by GWN, filmed in Geraldton on Wednesday, the day after my temporary arrival back on dry land. The bit that really struck me was towards the end, where our guardian angel and host for that first night, Don Ferguson, brushed aside praise for his kindness, referring to “the old Australian way of mateship”, i.e. helping each other out.

With only one expensive exception, everybody that we have encountered from Tuesday onwards has warmly extended us the very best kind of mateship, opening up their homes, hearts and work premises to help out. Monday was ANZAC day, so Easter Monday became the holiday on Tuesday when everything was closed, and yet they came out and opened up shop and extended their hand to help.

I’d especially like to thank the Fergusons and the Gangells for their hospitality, Dan McGrath at Iluka for the use of the crane and flatbed truck, Shane Ferguson and Glen Reeves for their boat repair skills, Barney and Michael of the Water Police, Geoff and Merry of Leeman Volunteer Sea Rescue, and Damian of GWN for his fair and accurate reporting. Also thanks to Col Leonhardt, who created the fantastic video of my departure from Fremantle, who is heading up to Geraldton tomorrow to record Departure II.

Today has been another excitingly productive one. Shane has been doing a highly professional job patching up the dings to Sedna’s hull (inflicted when the crayfish boat hit her), while Glen came over to the workshop this morning with the new box housing for the watermaker pump. We are going to install the spare pump in the forward hatch below the rowing seat, and enclose it inside a box for additional protection. Glen has also managed to salvage the original pump that had been affected by seawater, so I will take that with me as a spare.

Meanwhile June and I have been busy emptying lockers, drying everything out, repacking, and various maintenance and logistical tasks.

We also found time for a quick coffee shop treat. No caramel lattes, alas, but an iced coffee with a delicious fruit and nut chocolate slice. Being back on dry land does have its compensations!

 

Other Stuff:

As well as thanking my new Aussie friends, I would like to offer my heartfelt thanks to all my online supporters, who have stuck with me through thick and thin. The flow of messages expressing approval for my prudent course of action, appreciation for my environmental message, and encouragement for my relaunch has been an enormous source of strength. Once again, I have been reminded that I could not do what I do without your love and support. I can’t find words adequate to say how much I appreciate your unwavering loyalty. I will dedicate every stroke of my Indian Ocean row to all of you who represent the spirit of humanity, and of mateship, at its best. I love you.

 

This morning the alarm went off early. My boat had been parked overnight in the front garden of our hosts, Don and Margaret Ferguson, and after a quick breakfast we were on the road by 7am and heading north to Geraldton in search of people with the skills to help us get Sedna back out to sea. Don drove the flatbed truck, while June and I followed on behind in a borrowed ute (Australian for pickup truck), reassured to see that Sedna didn’t budge from her position on the flatbed, set in position with tyres and straps.

We arrived in Geraldton a little after 9am. We didn’t really know what was going to happen next. We had a couple of phone numbers gleaned from contacts, but didn’t know who would be willing, ready and able to help us out on our ridiculously tight deadline to get me back out to sea before the weather window closes.

But it seemed a good start to go and park a large purple rowboat in the marina and see what happened. The strategy worked.

We called the numbers that we had been given. Contacts led to other contacts. People dropped by at the marina to take a look at the boat and evaluate the work. By early afternoon we had a fibre glass guy, Shane Donegan, to sort out the damage inflicted yesterday, and a marine electrician, Glen Reeves, to relocate the watermaker pump.

Along the way, I had also managed to fit in a couple of TV interviews and one radio interview, still trying to emphasise the point that yesterday’s tow-in was NOT a rescue, but a pre-emptive move to avoid future problems with the watermaker.

By the end of the afternoon, Sedna had been safely delivered to the fibre glass workshop, Don had been able to reclaim his flatbed truck, work was well underway to fix up Sedna’s hull and broken oar, and we had a detailed plan for the watermaker reconfiguration. I was infinitely more relaxed and optimistic than I had been around 3am last night. Things were looking good. We now expect that Sedna will be back on the water on Friday, and that I will restart my row on Saturday morning from Geraldton.

I am writing this blog in the kitchen of two new good Samaritans, the Gangells (appropriately, rhymes with angels), who are putting us up for the night. It’s hard to believe that this morning I had no idea how we were going to get me and Sedna back out to sea. I was in an unfamiliar town, in an unexpected situation, with nothing but a few new friends to help me out. But sometimes a few good friends are all you need.

Other Stuff:

One of the surprise bonuses of being back on dry land at this stage is that I got to see Colin Leonhardt’s fantastic video of the final preparations and departure from Fremantle. Great job, Col, and I am so pleased you are going to be coming up to Geraldton for Departure Take Two.

It is the small hours of the night, and I am lying awake berating myself for not having made a better job of handling the media yesterday. I had enough warning that something was afoot, as the helicopter circled overhead as I was being towed in. So instead of expending my energy glaring viciously at the gas-guzzling helo, as if to shoot it down out of the sky with my eyes, I should have realized it was just the harbinger of a quite unwarranted press turnout. I could more usefully have spent that time preparing my lines.

In my defence, I suppose I was tired. But on the other hand, the media, and in fact life in general, rarely waits until you are feeling at your sharp-witted best before chucking an unexpected challenge at you. “Success is what happens when opportunity meets preparation.” I had the opportunity, but I wasn’t prepared for it. Or, more accurately, I did prepare my lines, but when the time came I didn’t use them.

In my head, I knew exactly what I wanted to say. My thoughts during that two-hour tow were along the lines of what I posted in my blog last night. What on earth are the media doing here? Don’t they have anything better to do? Why are they burning all that fossil fuel for such a complete non-story?

As I sat in my boat, soaking and cold as water from the crayfish boat’s wake sprayed all around me, I was furious at the intrusion, and even more furious about the general triviality of most media (with notable exceptions). Why do they focus on the “human interest” stories when the really big news is, I suppose, the ultimate “human interest” story – what should we be doing in the best interests of the entire human race?

And yet as soon as I stepped onto the jetty at Leeman and had microphones thrust in my face, I fell back into that annoying good-little-girl mode. Be nice, be polite, answer the questions. Useless. I should be media-savvy enough by now to exert a bit more control over the situation, to use every opportunity to talk about my eco messages, not to drivel on about watermakers and leaky hatches.

Still, hindsight is a wonderful thing. I’m sure I’ll get the hang of this publicity thing eventually, but if anybody knows an expert who coaches people in how to handle the media, do let me know!

Other Stuff:

On a technical point, some people have suggested I should replace the entire watermaker. This will not be necessary – even if I had enough time and enough money to get an entire new unit shipped over from the US. It is only the electrical feed pump that needs replacing, and I have a spare one of those with me. The idea is to relocate the feed pump to a new location under the sleeping cabin, with watertight seals around any wires and pipes that enter or exit the compartment, so that it will be better protected.

We still need to figure out the details of how this can be done, and find someone to do the work in Geraldton. We are in a race against time. The weather is good for a departure any day between tomorrow and Thursday of the following week. After that, not so sure. So we are under pressure.

I haven’t yet found a rectangular hatch cover that doesn’t leak. These ones are brand new, but leak as badly as the old ones. No time to replace them all this year, but if anybody has any tried-and-tested recommendations for a truly watertight hatch cover, around 2 feet by 1, do let me know.

Sigh. Much to do today. First thing this morning we’ll be driving Sedna up to Geraldton on a flatbed truck (many thanks to Don Ferguson) and trying to find someone who is a) capable, b) willing, and c) available to do the work for a reasonable price. Not much to ask at 5 minutes’ notice, surely….!

Thanks to all my online heroes. I am relieved that there has not been more negative comment in the press, and am very grateful to my supporters for setting the record straight where ill-informed comments have been posted. I really appreciate your love and support right now.

Photos of yesterday, courtesy of Jane Del-Bianco.

 

Ahem. Today did not go quite according to plan. A couple of days ago I alluded to a scheme that was developing, with details to be announced soon. Today I was rather overtaken by events. So I apologize enormously if you have already heard this news from another source. The Rozling community should be the first to know, so I am seizing this first opportunity to get online to tell you what happened, and hope that you are hearing it here first.

The situation was this: after rowing 350 miles, with all my loops and turns I was still only about 100 miles from Fremantle and about 20 miles from the Australian coast. This was not a surprise – it was equally difficult getting away from the coast of California at the start of the Pacific row. But in the meantime it had become apparent that the locker containing my watermaker was not watertight. During that rough weather a week or so ago, the locker had flooded. This also happened during the departure from California, and I know from that experience that watermakers do not like being swamped. They tend to progressively deteriorate until they grind to a rusty halt.

So…. as I was still only 20 miles from land, and had 4,000 miles to go, and didn’t fancy having to hand-pump water for 2 hours a day if my electrical watermaker failed, it seemed sensible to return to port to pre-emptively head off the watermaker problem. I reckoned I could come in to shore, get the watermaker moved to a drier, safer location under the sleeping cabin, and then be on my way. I had asked June to stick around in Australia for an extra week to help coordinate, and she was on the case.

The coast here is liberally dotted with reefs and rocks, waiting to ambush the unwary ocean rowboat. So we decided, in the interests of safety, that I would come in at the earliest opportunity. So today I took a tow in to the coastal town of Leeman with a crayfish boat called Point Break.

However, this mundane little stopover for maintenance turned into rather a drama. The first clue came when a news helicopter turned up overhead as I was being towed in. As I arrived at the jetty in Leeman (pop. 300) a fair proportion of the town was waiting for me, as well as several camera crews. I don’t know how the word got out, but get out it certainly did. It was all very embarrassing.

I actually felt quite bad for the news crews. Headline: “Ocean Rower Stops For Boring Boat Maintenance”. It must have been a quiet day for news. And it was the Anzac national holiday too, so all in all, if it was a quiet little stopover I was looking for, I couldn’t have picked a worse day.

Yet, even though I would have preferred a low profile, the people of Leeman have been wonderful. All and sundry mucked in today for the rather complicated operation of getting the boat out of the water and onto a flatbed. (I had to close my eyes during this. It was touch-and-go whether the boat would come up, or the crane truck would go in. Visions of truck landing on boat and both going to the bottom of the harbour.) Tonight June and I are staying at the home of Don and Margaret Ferguson, my boat is on a trailer parked at the front of their house, and tomorrow we will drive her up to Geraldton. The plan is to get the work done asap and be on my way in less than a week.

So there we go. That is my news. Not really worth the 3 helicopters and numerous reporters that covered it. They say that all publicity is good publicity, but all I wanted to do today was demand to know why they weren’t covering the really big story: “Human beings render planet uninhabitable for their species”. Now THERE would be a headline worthy of the name.

I must have been a little preoccupied yesterday, because it clean slipped my mind that it marked my 365th day at sea. Not consecutively, obviously, but when you add up my various voyages I have now spent cumulatively a year of my life in this little rowboat.

I think that this may be a record for a woman. Not sure. Maud Fontenoy may possibly have spent longer at sea. Can someone take a look at the Statistics page on the Ocean Rowing Society website and let me know?

Of course, most women are much too sensible to want to do such a thing. Not so the men. I know that there are several men who have spent longer at sea, but I have no ambitions to try and break that record!

I couldn’t manage to find a photo of my first ever day at sea, but here is a self-portrait from Day 3 at sea, back in 2005, just after the start of the Atlantic Rowing Race. What a fresh-faced young ocean rower I was back then!

Other Stuff:

Thanks for all the heart-warming news about what you are all doing for our planet. Good to hear! If you want to take it up a level, see what you can do to persuade your family, friends, and colleagues to be as good and green as you are.

Josselyne – how nice to hear your side of the Antigua story! That was a very special day indeed.

Richard in DFW – another 180 million years to catch up with the dinosaurs? Wow, just think what we could achieve if we manage to keep ourselves in existence for that long!

Sponsored Miles: Still catching up on miles previously rowed:

Doug Grandt, Perry Clarke, Patricia Kitto, Stanley Miller, Evan Rappoport, Charles Stilfield, Russell Cullngworth, Alan Gamble, Sarah Fetters, Larry Grandt for Pauline.

Just a quick blog tonight, as it’s been a long day. There are some plans afoot that I think you’ll be interested in, but they’re not sufficiently developed at this stage for me to tell you about them just yet.

So yes, I’m just being annoying and telling you that they exist, while not telling you what they are. Sorry! I’ll tell you just as soon as I can. Promise.

Meanwhile I have taken a sharp left turn out of the Leeuwin Current that was pushing me south, and am now in friendlier north-flowing waters, although no closer to my destination.

You could say I have traveled a long way, but not got very far. But hey, you can’t rush a good ocean.

Other Stuff:

UncaDoug – good for you, voluntarily having a cold shower! Like a workout, not fun while it lasts, but you feel good afterwards. If it’s any consolation, my “shower” consists of a quarter bucketful of cold water, a sponge and a drop of shower gel, administered on the deck of a small boat!

Joan – I’d love to write a photography-related post, but not sure quite what. Hmmm, I seem to specialise in waterproof cameras, and photos of self, sea and sky. Seems rather a small niche!

On this day in history…. on Day 12 on the Atlantic, my first oar broke. Hmmm, have broken that record this time around.

Day 12 of first attempt on the Pacific in 2007 was the day that someone decided I needed rescuing and sent out the US Coast Guard to come and get me, very much against my will. So Day 12 in 2011, odd though it has been, has been significantly better than that one!

Re tipping points: I most definitely believe in the phenomenon of tipping points. It’s what gives me hope. Whether we need 2% or 10% or 50% of the population, and whether individuals need to be 30% motivated or 50% or 80% before they will make a change in their lifestyles, I have to believe that my actions might just help nudge a few more individuals towards being a little more motivated. And when you take my efforts combined with the efforts of everybody else striving to make a difference – eventually we will reach that collective tipping point and there will be a mass outbreak of good green common sense!

Sponsored Miles: Roz has still not regained the miles shown yesterday, but has at last managed to turn north again.

Oh UncaDoug, what have you started? Last night I couldn’t get to sleep, and started thinking up limericks. And it’s gone on all day today too. Once you start thinking in limerick-ish, it’s very hard to stop. I hope this wears off soon!

None of them are very good, and I’m afraid they are mostly about me, but there isn’t much alternative material available out here.

My name is useful in that it rhymes with “Oz”, but not very useful in that it doesn’t rhyme with much else. I thought about changing my name to “Janet”, which rhymes conveniently with “planet” and “dammit” and other relevant words. But that seemed a bit drastic.

So here we go:

There was a young rower called Roz
Who rowed across oceans because
Of concern for the Earth
And to reduce her girth
That tubby young rower called Roz

Hmmm, not bad, although a bit of a switch of theme halfway through.

How about…

Roz set out to row across oceans
She wanted to cause a commotion
“We must take care of this Earth
This place of our birth
It deserves our respect and devotion

Ah, a bit earnest, and not at all funny.

Then there was the blatant sponsor-pleaser, dedicated to Sue Losson, the marketing manager of Green People skin products:

There once was a rower called Roz
Who rowed many miles because
Of concern for the ocean
She used lots of sun lotion
Supplied by Green People’s Sue Loz

(with apologies to Sue for vandalizing her name)

Or my final effort, which relates to my current inability to break free of the coast of Australia, and my penchant for a certain kind of espresso:

There was a young rower called Roz
Who left from the shores of fair Oz
Two weeks later she was back
Lamenting the lack
Or caramel lattes. Poor Roz!

Okay… I won’t give up the day job!

Other Stuff:

As aforementioned, I continue to weave figures of eight off the coast of Western Australia. Having busted out of the Leeuwin Current, I now find myself back on the wrong side of it, and another day or so of headwinds forecast. My weatherman and I are discussing options…

While I was stuck on the sea anchor today, it seemed a good time to do some laundry. But now I am running out of chores to do around the boat. The winds had better change soon before I get too bored!

Today I ate the last of my fresh bread. A seriously delicious fruit and walnut loaf from Abhi’s Bakery in Fremantle, with canned butter, swiss cheese, and ginger honey from Denmark in Western Australia. Sounds odd, but was completely scrumptious. But now, alas, gone. I had to throw the rest of the bread away. Having been okay for 10 days, in the space of 24 hours it all suddenly turned green and hairy.

Episode 29 of the Roz Roams podcast is now live “Attack of the Ocean”. Thanks, Vic. It must have been a nightmare editing job because of our comms problems!

Richard in DFW, good luck with the upcoming. I’m sure baldness will look very distinguished! Loved the quote from MASH – one of my favourite shows too!

Pippa – thank you SO much for your list of things that you have changed in your life to be more eco. It truly warmed the cockles of my green heart. If you haven’t seen it already, I really enjoyed watching the movie (and reading the book) “No Impact Man” about a New Yorker who goes as low impact as he can. It’s funny, thought-provoking, and somehow makes it okay to take your own food containers to the store!

Thanks, also, Pippa, for the fantastic pillow for my bunk. For so many reasons, just about my favourite object on the boat. It signifies the end of another day, and permission for a well-earned rest…

Pamela – thanks for the Yemaya description. Beautiful! You asked about dreams. I dream a LOT, because my sleep is so interrupted. Often about food. And friends. Friends eating food. etc etc.

Michael Guy – you gave me a bit of a funny turn just there. I thought you might be a different Michael Guy that I knew (blush!) many years ago…. but he wasn’t from Florida. Happy to make the acquaintance of a different “Guy”!

General comments: I’m bummed about the tracker too. Not that I ever got to see it, of course, as I was out here doing it! There is a slight chance that we may be putting together a very odd kind of tracker that would show my progress (or lack thereof!) but not my location. I know it sounds cryptic, but stay tuned and we’ll see if we can work it out.

Aimee – thanks for continuing to send through the comments, with editor’s notes as required. Very much appreciated!

Sponsored Miles to be rowed all over again! (having lost 59.78 miles going round in a circle)

Kiran Prathapa, Lucie Petrickova (Adam Henton, Simon Henton, Lucie Henton ), Geoff Gassner, Penrallt Coastal Campsite, Nancy Wilhelms, Janet Maher, Larry Grandt (for Kevin), Michelle Pitman, Monica Wilcox, Jo Fothergill, Jay Peterson, Russ Neal, Bradley Kehoe, Peter Wilkinson, Chris Walroth, Megan Lutz, Larry Grandt ( for Rica)

Now that we have such notable events as Chocolate Appreciation Day and Secretary Appreciation Day, it seems a bit measly to only give one day of appreciation to the entire planet without which we wouldn’t be here.

Chocolate and secretaries are, of course, very important and much deserving of appreciation, but in the overall scheme of things don’t really fall into the same category as this amazing lump of rock whizzing through space which has produced, among countless other extraordinary things, humans.

Yet far from thanking our lucky stars on a daily basis for this planet of ours, we seem hell-bent on trying to destroy it. Mostly in the last 200 years, and especially in the last 50, we have drilled it, mined it, polluted the water and the land and the air, felled its forests, and done our best to eradicate entire swaths of its inhabitants.

In short, we have treated it with a marked lack of respect, somehow overlooking the fact that we have to live on it, and on a finite planet, what goes around comes around.

I’m not especially worried for the Earth. When you look back over its entire existence, we have been here for a mere blink of an eye. The planet is going to be fine in the long run. It doesn’t need us, but we desperately need it, and we need it not to change too much. We’ve evolved to live on a fairly pristine kind of Earth, within a fairly narrow temperature range. Too much pollution or too much heat, and we’re going to be in trouble.

For all our many flaws, we’re actually quite special, and I’d like to see us be around for a while yet. For a supposedly intelligent species, wouldn’t it just be terribly embarrassing to be responsible for our own demise?

So on this Earth Day, I’d like to ask you to extend the day for the entire duration of my voyage. I (and more importantly, the Earth and its future inhabitants) would be really grateful if you would show your appreciation for our home planet by doing these things until I make landfall:

1. Carry your re-usable grocery bag, water bottle, and coffee cup with you and USE THEM. Even better if you can get hold of a stainless steel re-usable drinking straw and take your own silverware too, so you never need to use the plastic “single-use” versions.

2. Pick up at least one piece of trash every day from somewhere that it shouldn’t be (in a park, walkway, on a beach, wherever) and dispose of it properly in a bin or recycling bin.

3. Take just one minute each day to notice something special in the natural world – a tree, a cloud, a flower, a sunrise or sunset, a new constellation, a stream or river, a bird (or a chick, Joan) – and say a little thank you for it.

And remember that in a world where everything is connected, when you ask not what your planet can do for you, but what you can do for your planet – ultimately it all boils down to the same thing. What is good for the Earth is good for us.

Thank you.

Other Stuff:

Looks like I spoke too soon when I rejoiced having passed out of the Leeuwin Current. Looks like I’m now heading back into it. All morning I was struggling against a NE current, and this afternoon the addition of a breeze from the NW was enough to thwart any chance of westerly progress. The irony is not lost on me that the harsh winds and waves of the last few days were actually an enormous help, while this gentle, soft little breeze and an invisible current are rapidly undoing all my progress. Appearances can be deceptive.

Mum tells me the sponsored miles are selling like hot cakes. Thank you to everybody who has bought a mile of my Indian Ocean voyage. If only I was able to row them as fast as all you lovely people are sponsoring them! I sincerely hope not to have to row ALL of them twice over…

Michelle: thanks for the Maori quote: He nui maunga e kore e taea te whakaneke, he nui ngaru moana ma te ihu o te waka e wahi – A great mountain cannot be moved, but a giant wave can be broken by the prow of a canoe. Their way of saying “don’t give up too easily – some things are possible”. Indeed. Many things are indeed possible. Sometimes they just take longer than planned, and there are a few detours along the way.

UncaDoug and Joan – you asked about my sartorial needs for 2012. I have been thinking about them but no decision as yet. Awkward though it is to row in full foul weather gear, I think it may be necessary to try. Or maybe neoprene would be better. I will probably consult my friends at DaKine and Fourth Element and see what they come up with.

Doctorely – no, I don’t feather my oars. Of course I did when I rowed crew, but on the ocean I prefer to save the wear and tear on my wrists.

Drifterfour – hi to you and your daughters!

Joan – thanks so much for the list of Follett books. Very much appreciated. Will start Folletting once I’ve moved on from Outlanding.

Romy and Margot – thank you both for getting back to me on the salt. I eventually found it in the Sea To Summit drybag with the canned butter, which I’d put in the middle locker under the rowing seat. I also discovered a rather mushed avocado swilling around in the bilge water… yuck!

Thanks, Col, for the video you took of my departure. I hear it’s brilliant! So sorry I can’t see it from here. A strong urge to ask you to airdrop a USB drive of it! Anyway, really glad that everybody else can get to see it. I’ll only have to wait another four months or so…

Sorry to hear that Rob Eustace has turned back on his attempt to row the Indian Ocean. Rob is a great guy. He joined our Saturday work party in Fremantle to get my boat ready, and was an enormous help. I know he was really well-prepared for his expedition, so am sure this must have been a tough decision to make. Who knows, if the winds don’t change soon, I might yet end up seeing him in Geraldton!

Sponsored Miles:

Chris Walroth, Megan Lutz, Larry Grandt ( for Rica) Roz has been blown back some miles towards Australia – again.

This morning at about 3 o’clock I was seriously reconsidering my career options. Surely there have to be easier ways to spread the good green word.

It was early last night when I went to bed – about 8pm, a couple of hours after sunset. It was windy and the waves were scary-big, so bed was the safest place to be – “safe” being a relative term.

By 9pm my boat had been knocked down twice already, meaning that big waves had knocked her over to an angle of greater than 90 degrees, but not all the way over to upside-down. Imagine someone abruptly rotating your bedroom through 90 degrees. It’s not that much fun.

On the second knockdown a torrent of water came gushing into the cabin through one of the ventilation holes, which I had pressed into service as an outlet for my satphone antenna cable so I could put a patch antenna on the cabin roof. Clearly I was going to have to remove the antenna so I could close the ventilation hole. But getting out of my bunk and going out into the wild night was about as appealing as root canal surgery.

Taking my knife between my teeth in time-honoured fashion, I reluctantly ventured out onto the darkness of the deck. It was wild out there – blowing a gale, boat pitching, water flying everywhere. I velcro’d on the ankle leash for safety and turned back to the cabin roof to cut down the antenna.

But something else caught my eye – one of my spare oars was flapping uselessly, the spoon broken right across, hanging on only by a few wood fibres. This broke even my Atlantic record, when I didn’t break my first oar until Day 12 (I think).

Sigh. Grr. Still, nothing to be done about that now. I had to get on with the task in hand. I wanted to get it over with and get back into the cabin before another big wave came along and tried to wash me off the deck. I cut the antenna free and threaded the long, springy and unco-operative cable back through the ventilation hole, then ducked back into the cabin and slammed the hatch closed behind me.

The boat was knocked down twice more during the night. I spent most of the night lying awake, safety-strapped to my wet bunk, flinching at the sound of onrushing waves, and generally hating ocean rowing. But I also kept reminding myself that this too would pass, and that I’ve survived worse. (For the record, a full capsize (3 times in 2007) is definitely worse than a knockdown, but I really do not recommend either as a fun way to spend a night.)

Luckily things always look better in the daylight. I had to do a lot of sorting out today – drying my bedding, airing the cabin, pumping water out of leaky lockers, restoring to their rightful places the few objects that had not been adequately tied down or stowed. In the process I finally found the salt (hurrah!) and by the end of the day the boat was looking even more shipshape than before the chaos of the night. And I officially crossed out of the dreaded Leeuwin Current at 113.7 degrees E, and re-crossed 30 degrees S, having lost some ground to the north yesterday. All in all, quite a satisfactory day’s work.

So maybe I won’t quit ocean rowing just yet.

I just hope tonight is quieter. The forecast is for the wind to drop right about now, which would be VERY welcome, because I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since…. since I left land, really.

Other Stuff:

JackFlack – let me know what difficult thing you decide to do in solidarity with me. Even better if it has an eco aspect to it. How about having a cold shower every day for the next 4 months?!

dmr1965 – love the quote: The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea. ~Isak Dinesen.

Thanks for the nice comments about my photos. A 360 view of the sky is one of the perks of the job! I did used to be quite seriously into photography, so maybe it’s something I’ll get back to in Life After Rowing.

The great refrigerator debate: I did look at getting a little 12V refrigerator, but decided I have more than enough stuff to lug across 4,000 miles as it is. Also unlikely I could run it continuously until the fresh food ran out – not enough electricity. It would really only have been to satisfy my craving for a cold drink from time to time.

Hmmm, while I’ve been writing “other stuff” 2 big waves have come and clobbered me pretty hard. Not juggernauts, but their younger brothers. I do hope tonight is going to be a quiet one….

Photos: the broken oar as I found it
I’ve now wrapped a bungy around it so I don’t lose the broken part – just in case

Sponsored Miles

Kiran Prathapa, Lucie Petrickova (Adam Henton, Simon Henton, Lucie Henton ), Geoff Gassner, Penrallt Coastal Campsite, Nancy Wilhelms, Janet Maher, Larry Grandt (for Kevin), Michelle Pitman, Monica Wilcox, Jo Fothergill, Jay Peterson, Russ Neal, Bradley Kehoe, Peter Wilkinson, Chris Walroth.

To further refine my image of the bucking bronco and the ten bucketeers, it occurs to me that the whole assemblage should, for authenticity, be placed in a wind tunnel. Today has been windy. So windy that this morning I had the greatest difficulty eating my Oats2Go because the porridge kept blowing off the spoon before I could get it from the mug to my mouth, a distance of around 3 inches. That’s windy.

This has inspired a blog on the different kinds of waves. Of course, every wave is unique, but these are the usual suspects. I’ve given them provisional names, but if you can think of some better names, I’d love to hear your suggestions.

Mugger: a sneaky wave that won’t announce its presence, but will just pop up over the side of the boat without any warning whatsoever and give me a drenching

Bragger: the opposite of the mugger, the bragger roars up to the boat in a fury of foam and noise, makes me flinch, and then does absolutely nothing apart from fizzle away in a mass of white suds like it just couldn’t be bothered to follow through

Sideswiper: attacks at the bow or the stern of the boat for maximum leverage, knocking the boat off course by about 30 degrees

Slopper: another sneaky one, the slopper looks innocent and innocuous as he sidles up to the boat, then just neatly slops a large amount of water over the gunwale

Boatfiller: looks big and mean and generally is, this one rampages up and deposits a boatful of water into the cockpit, necessitating use of the bilge pump to restore some kind of order

Juggernaut: likes to strike at night for maximum effect, the juggernaut is the one that will knock the boat over through ninety degrees or more, causing widespread disarray and distress

Yes, Susan Casey (author of The Wave) could learn a thing or two if she spent a couple of days on my boat. But there again, she’d probably rather be hanging out in Hawaii with Laird Hamilton. And who can blame her? Right now, so would I.

Other Stuff:

Today I crossed the line of latitude at 30 degrees south. Hurrah! Now I am making a break west, trying to cut across that pesky south-flowing Leeuwin Current while I have these strong southerly winds to help me.

Thanks, Jay, for the ten suggestions posted in a comment on my blog for Day 5. All good ones. The eco ones (3,6 and 10) especially warmed my heart. It’s crucial times for the Olympics campaign, so the more signatures we can get, the better. And share it via FB and Twitter too. And 7 made me laugh – hope people manage to dance better than I did (but in my defence I was trying to dance on the deck of a tippy boat!)

Richard – thanks for the spotty botty tips. I can see the sense in allowing the skin to do its own thing. It did make me smile, though, to think of wicking material collecting the “moisture” – the ocean is contributing far more of the moisture than I am! Today each seat cover would stay dry for, oh, about 3 seconds on average before a wave had come and drenched it.

Narendra – I don’t really count calories. I would guess about 4,000? I just eat as much as I feel like, and still lose weight. Fantastic!

James Nave `- good to hear from you, my friend. Hope to make it to Telluride again one of these years when I’m not messing around on oceans!

Thanks to Sybille for the headband I’m wearing in today’s photo. It has turned out to be one of my new favourite bits of kit. Great for holding in my earbuds while I’m listening to audiobooks, and keeps my hair out of my eyes. Love it!

A question: I want to start listening to the Ken Follett books, but one thing Audible doesn’t do is to give any indication what order they were written in. Can anybody help me out, please?

Sponsored Miles:

Patricia Kitto, Stanley Miller, Evan Rappoport, Charles Stilfield, Alan Gamble, Phil Connor, Sarah Fetters, Tom Burns, Russell Cullingworth, Larry Grandt, Brenda Ober, Kenny Runnderduck, Deb Caughron, Justin Cooper, Kiran Prathapa, Geoff Gassner, Joan Sherwood, Michael Follo. (These miles represent distances from Fremantle, which may be a bit less than miles actually rowed eg after rowing in a circle!)

You remember a couple of days back I compared life on board with trying to live on the back of a bucking bronco? Well, the aspect I forgot to mention then is that alongside your bucking bronco you have a lineup of between 1 and 10 people who take great delight in chucking bucketfuls of cold salty water over you at unexpected moments.

You’re lucky if you get just one person on bucket-chucking duty – that’s just a little splash. But once in a while, all ten decide to clobber you at the same time, simultaneously with the bronco making an extra-dramatic tilt to one side.

There have been quite a few ten-bucket waves today. The forecast was for winds of 20-25 knots, so although I can only get my silly wind gauge to register 15 knots, it certainly felt like 25 knots at the very least. This has whipped the ocean up into white-streaked frenzy, and I have spent most of the day drenched. Around sunset the waves took it up a notch and crossed the line from “exciting” to “rather scary” and it was with considerable relief that I stowed the oars for the night and retreated to my cabin.

The rather charming Frenchman who made and applied the stickers on my boat for the Atlantic, and became a regular blog-commenter during that crossing, used to refer to being splashed by a wave “salty kisses”. If they are indeed salty kisses, then I feel like I’ve been snogged nearly to death today.

Other Stuff

June, Margot, Romy – can anybody remember where we packed the salt?!

Had my first hot meals today – despite the physical challenges involved in cooking in such rough conditions, it’s amazing what heights of achievement a desire for a good hot meal can inspire me to. This morning I had delicious porridge (Oats 2 Go, very kindly brought over from Britain by Rob Eustace – how is he doing on his row, by the way?) embellished with freeze dried blueberries, banana slices and sunflower seeds courtesy of Wilderness Family Naturals. Then dinner was freeze-dried Bobotjie (a South African dish) by Back Country Cuisine. Many thanks to Rob McSporran and the rest of the gang at Sea To Summit for sponsoring the BCC meals.

I used the Jetboil stove to boil water for my hot meals. What a fantastic piece of kit! So much faster, easier, and safer than anything else I’ve tried. Definitely a keeper. I’ve got two on board, one provided by Sea To Summit, and one a Christmas present from my sister. Thanks, Tanya!

Our first ocean-bound Roz Roams podcast has now gone live. Thanks, Vic.

UncaDoug and Claire – thanks for the limericks…. I think! Macaws??! Very entertaining, but I wouldn’t give up the day jobs just yet!

Marks-the-Spot asked if people’s sense of humour changes after long periods alone. Will bear it in mind, and keep you posted.

Right, my battery is going to go flat if I don’t send this soon, and I don’t want to leave my MacBook out of its case overnight. Looks like it could be a bouncy one, so I want to make sure everything is properly stowed. So I’ll sign off now. Till tomorrow!

Photos: the red ensign wind gauge (also a drying seat cover and an aboriginal Australian flag – I hope that is the politically correct term, but please forgive an ignorant pom if not!)

Sponsored Miles:

Nick Watson., Diane Freeman, Allan Larsen, Nathan Gray, Nick Perdiew, Dane Golden, Anna Wildy, Barbara Henker, Donald Lindsay, Ugo Pistacchio, Bill Morris, Bernadette Bean, Deoni Castle, Michelle Cartwright, Nancy Bowman, Doug Grandt – for Keith, Perry Clarke, Patricia Kitto. Many thanks to these supporters.

Today has been a feisty one off the coast of Western Australia. I’m sure my new wind gauge is under-recording. It was telling me the wind was 15 knots. But when I was on the Atlantic I got used to correlating the wind speed with the angle of the dangle of my British red ensign flag. And I reckon it was closer to 25 knots today. Anyway, we can safely say that it was plenty strong enough to make a terrible mess of my hair. and for me to put my ankle leash on – just in case.

Fortunately this strong breeze is going in an ideal direction, blowing me north towards the latitude where the Western Australia coast and I will part company. It will stay where it is, while I strike out across the Indian Ocean.

With the wind come certain sound effects (no, not THAT kind of wind and not THOSE kinds of sound effects!). Of course, the wind increases the waves, so my boat is surrounded by the constant gurgle of the water as it swills around my hull. Then there is the sound of the wind, a constant roaring. But there is also the sound of the wind on the waves, a kind of whispering, hissing sussuration as the air whizzes across the surface of the water.

And today, with some pretty sizeable breaking waves, there has from time to time been the big double-crash of a wave broadsiding my boat; the first crash as the wave collides with Sedna and the second crash as Sedna recovers from her part-roll and slams back… frequently followed by the sound of some distinctly nautical terminology from one annoyed rower who has temporarily forgotten that she is supposed to be zen and serene come what may!

Other stuff:

I realised that although I thanked a couple of people for their quotes, I didn’t replicate them so people who receive my blog via email may not have had the chance to see them. So here they are:

“Worrying doesn’t empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.” – Corrie Ten Boom (thanks, Sandra)

“A little faith will bring your soul to heaven, but a lot of faith will bring heaven to your soul.” (thanks, Pamela)

And here’s the one that Karen Morss stuck on the jar of homemade plum jam: “Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. The fearful are caught as often as the bold.”

Book review: Today I finished What Happens in London, by Julia Quinn. A kind of raunchier Jane Austen. Fun, but inconsequential.

Finn – you asked what we can do for the environment. Don’t feel helpless! Every action counts. Let’s take plastic as an example. If you’ve already reduced your usage of plastic as far as you can, why not organize a few friends to write letters to your local supermarket and ask them to put signs up on the doors, reminding people to bring their reusable bags in from the car? Easy for them to do, and it really helps!

Or sign the petition to help make the 2012 Olympics plastic bag free, and get everybody you know to sign it too

Huge thanks to all those who have sponsored miles. Your generosity is helping keep this blog on the air – and allows me to check in and let my long-suffering mother know I’m okay. We both appreciate it very much!

Photo: sorry it isn’t more exciting. I have just discovered that the only pics I took today were for the NASA S’COOL project, i.e. the twice-daily pictures of clouds that I take from beneath the clouds as a satellite passes by above them. So, in the absence of any other pics (and it’s too dark now to take a photo) I give you…. clouds! (I’ll make sure I come up with something more exciting tomorrow…)

Sponsored Miles:
Not only has Roz re-rowed the lost miles, she has made great progress. These sponsors’ miles have now been accomplished. Cyndie Blake, Greg Danforth, David Quinlan, Tom Hockman, James Borleis, Curtis Zingg, Shannon Fogg, Susan Bartlett, Chris Lynch, Doug Grandt, Michelle Pitman, Monica Wilcox, Steve Allen, Angela Hey, Gilliand and Michael Colledge, Linda Leinen, Nick Jaffe, Kiran Prathapa, Leslie Layton, Thomas Heavey, Larry Grandt, Andrew Greenfield, Kathy Miritello, Nick Watson.

By dusk today I was getting a distinct sense of deja vu. That lighthouse blinking out across the darkening water definitely looked familiar – and it was. Tonight I find myself in the same place as I was at dawn on Day 3. Ah well, some bits of ocean are just so good, they’re worth doing more than once.

Today the winds have been much more helpful. It has been a gloomy, overcast, blustery day of lowering clouds and rough seas, but it has been a great day for rowing. A lovely strong breeze right up the backside. More fun than it sounds.

Not so much fun for every other aspect of life on board, though. Imagine living on a bucking bronco. It bucks fairly slowly, rather than full-on-manic-bucking mode, but the angle of movement is fairly similar. And it goes on 24 hours a day. Preparing meals, eating meals, going to the bathroom, sleeping…. all done (or at least, attempted) on the back of that bronco. Yeehaaarrrr!

I finished listening to The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks and Giants of the Ocean
this morning. Interesting to me on so many levels: the oceans as a spiritual place, as an indicator of climate change, and as a place of amazing and terrifying power. I truly hope I never seen the full force of the ocean unleashed. 20 foot waves were impressive enough. A 100 foot wave would be – well, unimaginable. Or maybe I just don’t want to try and imagine it…

If you love and/or respect the ocean, you’ll probably enjoy this book. I learned a lot from it, despite knowing a thing or two about the ocean myself.

Return of the low-flying squid Part 2: I found another squid today, stuck to the roof of the forward cabin. Funny – when I was assaulted last time by projectile squid, there were three of them too. Do squid always travel in threes?

Fresh food update: Had to throw out the last of June’s excellent quinoa salad today. It was furry. There was a fridge magnet at the house we were staying in for several weeks before my launch (thanks so much to Danny and Bronwyn – I bet you’re happy to have your house back now!) that said: “If it walks out of the refrigerator, let it go”. Most of my now not-so-fresh food is getting a bit that way.

Body update: the spots are returning to my nether regions. Sigh. Every year it happens. I thought that between changing seat covers after every shift and regular application of tea tree oil I’d be okay – but apparently not.

Podcast: Vic and I recorded our first ocean podcast today. It will probably go online in the next day or so. Check it out.

Comments: Mum and Vic have told me that there are lots of comments on my blog. I think that Mum has tried to email them to me, but I’m having some problems with email. I can see that I have messages coming in over the satphone, but they are not displaying in Thunderbird. It has done this before and eventually the messages have shown up. But I can’t figure out how to force it to show them.

Upshot of all this is: As soon as I manage to read any of your comments, I will reply to them. But at the moment they are hidden somewhere in the memory of my laptop, concealed from human eye…

Comments: Thanks for all the great comments. I’ve got a bit of a
backlog, as I’ve only just received the comments for the first 3 days.
And I’m seriously keen to get off my backside and let it recover a
little before tomorrow. So in haste….

Thanks, Sandra and Pamela for the inspiring quotes. Fantastic! Thanks,
Nick, for explaining the absence of tracker (boo!). Dennis, good to hear
from you!

Jane – good to hear that Jessica is spreading the word. It was a real
pleasure to spend time with you, James and the family while I was in Perth.

Sid from Antarctica – ah, there you are! I didn’t have your contact
details so wasn’t able to get in touch. Glad to have re-found you!

Julie, Jacob, Hans, Jim, Joan, Eric – thanks for the messages. And
Karen, thanks for the inspiring stickers on my jars of jam and
marmalade. Am very much enjoying a pot of Helen Keller at the moment!

Julie – thanks for the blog. I can’t read it from here, but will post
the link here so others can check it out: www.juliemeek.com.au/blog

Pippa and Richard – your exchanges gave me a good giggle too! Pippa – the pillow is a dream! (so to speak!) If only I could sit on it all day as well!

Doug, Jay, Stan, Evan, John, Richard – thanks to my wonderful line of
“cheerleaders” – hmmm, that brought up an interesting visual of you all
wielding pompoms and doing high kicks!

Okay, I’m sorry, but I really do have to go take the weight off and
spend a few hours lying on my front to allow certain important parts a
chance to recover. Apologies for the visual on that! G’night!

Sponsored Miles
Roz is still rowing to get back to the position where she was a couple of days ago, so just one name today: Susan Bartlett, who had sponsored a few consecutive miles. Please accept our grateful thanks to sponsors who have recently sent their donations – we would love to thank you individually but time does not permit. Thanks to Aimee Divine who now compiles the files of Comments for Roz.

Groan! Sorry, but I couldn’t resist it.

Today I ate my last fresh mango, a sad moment, but this terrible pun cheered me up. I brought a stash of fresh food with me, and there is still quite a bit left. But the mangoes, bought by June from the organic stall in Fremantle Markets, were the last of the season, and did not have a long shelf (or locker) life. Today when I inspected my inventory, two had split and gone mushy, and only one good one was left. And very delicious it was too.

First crop of the season: as one food door closes, another opens. Today I had my first crop of beansprouts from my sprouter. Thanks to Farmlands for the beans. They worked a treat!

Return of the low-flying squid: between Hawaii and Tarawa in 2009 I was bombarded by 3 squid that came hurtling out of the water like torpedoes in reverse one day as I was rowing along. It was quite startling, to put it mildly. Today I found two much smaller specimens on my deck, looking rather the worse for wear. They must have come flying aboard during the night, and by the time I found them they were long past resuscitation. I said a few words and gave them a decent burial at sea.

Looping the loop: Last night a strong wind picked up and blew me quite a few miles south, back the way I’d come. I spent all morning and part of the afternoon on the sea anchor while the wind continued to blow and I watched my progress tick backwards. Towards the end of this afternoon the wind turned from northerly to westerly, pushing me back towards the coast. Actually this is better news than it sounds, as I was afraid I had strayed into the Leeuwin Current (bad) and now I will be safely back on the continental shelf (good).

The net result is that I have looped a big loop, about twenty miles from top to bottom. So I am re-rowing some of my miles, so people who sponsored those miles will get thanked again. Don’t say I don’t give value for money!

Woody the Pirate has been keeping a low profile so far while he gets his sea legs (or sea leg, I suppose, as he only has one). But he will be putting in an appearance on this blog soon. Meanwhile, he says “Arrrrrr!”, which is pirate-speak for “hi”.

Sponsored Miles:
Anthony Peters, Don Kuroyama, Rosalyn Page, Paul O’Hare, Rachel (Green Film festival), Susan Bartlett. There are some more sponsors mentioned before,whose miles will need to be rowed again!

Day 3: One of those Days

April 15th 2011

Today was one of those days. I won’t say I went nowhere, because I did go somewhere. But it was somewhere south, which was somewhere I didn’t want to go. So I put out the sea anchor for a while, and used the time productively to stow some of the stuff that had been chucked on board at the last minute.

(For newcomers to the blog, a sea anchor is a 12 foot parachute on a long rope attached to the bow of the boat. When the wind is against me, I put the chute out under the water, and it stops me being pushed so far backwards. Thanks to Alby McCracken at Para Anchors Australia for my lovely new red and yellow chute!)

Eventually the wind changed and I got the sea anchor back in, a 20 minute performance, and got going again. And eventually ended up back where I’d started.

It’s only frustrating if I allow myself to be frustrated, I keep reminding myself. Circumstances aren’t frustrating unless we allow them to be. How very zen of me.

As I write my boat is once again being pushed south, back to that place I didn’t want to be. But I’m all in for now, so will catch some zzzs and get back to the oars later on.

Other Stuff:

It is debatable whether “The Wave”, a book about monster waves by Susan Casey, is appropriate reading matter for a woman alone on a very small boat on a very large ocean. However, I’m quite enjoying it. She examines all kinds of oversized waves, from the point of view of historians, scientists, insurers, pioneers, and mostly surfers – which seems to give her a good excuse to spend a lot of time hanging out with legendary surfer Laird Hamilton. Good to see a writer suffering (??!) for her art.

Her book about the Farallon Islands and great white sharks is also very good. It’s called “The Devil’s Teeth”. Probably something else I shouldn’t be reading while I’m out here.

Sponsored Miles: David Quinlan, John Newsom, Kiran Pratha[a. Doug Grandt (for Sean), Michelle Pitman.

 

I’m in that awkward inbetweeny stage of the voyage. I haven’t yet got into my ocean-philosophy frame of mind – I’m still too busy getting back into the ocean way of life. At the moment I am still at that stage where it’s like moving into a new house – I can’t quite remember where I put things or how I used to do things. But this might not make for very exciting blogging . . .

About the most exciting thing that happened today was rowing through an extensive area of small buoys. I suppose they must have been marking some kind of fishing nets. I managed to get a few of them wrapped around the rudder, and had to pop my head out of the aft hatch to liberate it.

Other than that: rowing was tough this morning, with choppy seas coming at me from the wrong direction. Middle of the day was dead calm. Latter part of the day was a roaring tailwind. I even saw the GPS speedo hit 5 knots at one point. Woohoo!

For now I can tell you roughly where I am. I am paralleling the coast of Western Australia until I reach Geraldton, at which point I try to make a mad dash across the Leeuwin Current before it gets hold of me and sweeps me south. My GPS is telling me that I am 36.7 nautical miles NW of Wanneroo.

Body grumbling at me. It reckons it’s getting too old for this kind of malarkey (43). I reckon it will adapt to anything once it realises we’re in this for the long haul.

It’s amazing just what the human body (and mind) can adapt to when it has no choice….

Other Stuff:

Apparently my blog didn’t make it online last night. Most odd. I emailed it to Mum, using exactly the same laptop and satphone as we used to test it on dry land. It has been working consistently – until I actually need it. Typical!

Finished Book  Number 1 of the trip: Unbroken, by Laura Hillebrand. Very good indeed. True story of a guy who survives over 40 days in a liferaft only to be taken POW by the Japanese – which makes the liferaft look like a luxury cruise. Very well written, an epic tale.


Sponsored Miles:

The second day so far: Pam Rodwell, Barry Munyard, Louis Girard, Steven Partridge, Anne Dare, Doug (and Larry) Grandt for Pauline, Daniel Zetah, Anthony Peters, Don Kuroyama, Rosalyn Page, Paul O’Hare, Rachel (for San Francisco Green Film Festival), Susan Bartlett, Chris Lynch, Curtis Zingg, Shannon Fogg, Tom Hockman and James Borleis.

Photo: blisters

–

 

 

Date: Wed, 13 Apr 2011 19:58:19 +0800
I hope you’ll forgive me if I keep this blog short. It’s my first night
at sea in 9 months (excluding the very different accommodations on board
the National Geographic Explorer in Antarctica) and I’m having to
reacquaint myself with the motion of the ocean.

So sitting in my cabin peering at the screen of a laptop is about the
last thing I feel like doing right now.

Hope you got to see the send-off on Ustream this morning. It was about
7am when I pushed off from the Royal Perth Yacht Club Annexe. Huge
thanks to the stalwart souls who came down to see me off. Outside the
harbour wall a few kayakers kept me company for a while, to be succeeded
by June and co on board a sailboat. Col Leonhardt swooped by a couple of
times in a helicopter to get some footage. He’ll be putting together a
3-minute video in the next few days, so watch out for that.

The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully – which is good. I
paddled out towards Rottnest Island, then turned north to parallel the
coast, avoiding the south-flowing Leeuwin Current until I get level with
Geraldton.

Hands and backside rather sore, but hanging on in there.

First audiobook is “Unbroken” by Laura Hillebrand. Good to hear about
people having less fun in a boat (a lifeboat after their plane crashes)
than I am – somehow put my blisters into perspective.

Okay, need to get my head down and my weight off my bottom so will sign
off now. Blogs will get more descriptive when I’m not feeling queasy!

Sponsored Miles:

Roz did a good mileage of 26 miles on the first day at sea, and the following people sponsored miles for this section: Doug Grandt, Will Stockland, Pippa, David Tangye, Faith de Savigne, Gary Seritt, Jason Haines, Gerard Yates, Nanette Ferguson, Matthew Ellis, Mark Clifton, Anke Altermann, and Pam Rodwell.

 

Photo caption: my first sunset of the Indian Ocean.
–

This morning I was at the boat recording an interview with the guys from EcoTrek, and Christian asked me if I am courageous. I don’t really think that I am. Or at least, I’m not fearless. I wouldn’t be human if in the wee small hours of the night I didn’t have a few flutters of nerves, and a little surge of adrenaline.

When I have those mini-panics, I have to sternly remind myself that I have done this several times before. So has my boat. We are both tried and tested.

If the scale of the challenge seems daunting, I have to remind myself to just take it one day at a time. There will just be a few more of those days than in any of my other voyages.

And I have to stay focused on my goal – not just the geographical goal, but the much more important goal of spreading the good green word. That mission is what keeps me going.

Because if we don’t wise up soon and start taking better care of our planet, our only home, we are heading rapidly for deep trouble, and a very bleak future. Now THAT is worth being afraid of.

Other Stuff:

This morning we did the last few bit and pieces of prep at the boat. Loaded the water ballast, turned on the Solaradata unit, tested incoming messages on the satphone, and generally primped the boat ready for her big day tomorrow. I installed Woody the Pirate (from Mariya), Zen Dog (from Romy) and a Hawaiian turtle decal (honu). Also a piece of silver stuck in a champagne cork (thanks Marian) and a penguin feather from my Antarctic trip. Plus regular crewmates Quackers the Duck (Eric) and Squishy the Dolphin (Sharon).

Superstitious, me?!

My next blog will be from the ocean. About 16 hours from now I will be pushing off from the dock in Fremantle, at about 6.30 local time. Watch out ocean, here I come!

Since I last wrote, launch day has been pushed back again, by 24 hours, but is now holding steady and looking good for early Wednesday morning Fremantle time, which will be Tuesday night Pacific time.

This seemed a good time to let you know how you can follow along with my adventure over the coming few months, and point out a few new features of my website.

Conspicuous by its absence will be the RozTracker (aka EpicTracker). Due to increasing pirate activity in the Indian Ocean, we have deemed it prudent not to post my position online. So the map of my route will not be revealed until I am safely back on dry land, but there will be many other ways to follow my progress.

Blog: as always, I will be blogging daily on this website. Technology permitting (as it didn’t last year!) I will also be posting photos of me, my boat, sea, and sky. And anything more interesting that crosses my path and hangs around long enough to be photographed. You can sign up to get my blogs via email, if you prefer, by entering your email address in the box to the right —-> where it says “receive blog via email”.

Twitter: whenever I feel inspired.

Podcast: I’ll be checking in weekly with Vic Phillipson to continue the Roz Roams podcast.

Facebook: Tweets and blog alerts will also be posted to my personal and public pages on Facebook.

Live webcast of departure: we’re planning to livestream my departure on Wednesday morning via Ustream. I’ll post the details as soon as I get them, including the URL where you can watch live as I launch myself on an unsuspecting Indian Ocean. Stay tuned.

Nomaddica: this is a brand new app, generously developed for me by Nick Jaffe of Arktisma, to help me raise the funds to pay for satellite phone airtime, without which there can be no blogs, tweets, or podcasts. I am inviting people to sponsor a mile (or more!) of my voyage for the bargain price of $10. $10 can buy:
- about half of a blog upload
- or a photo upload
- or half a phone call to my shore manager (aka my mother).

Check it out – click on “show interactive map” to get the full experience!

P.S. Mum sends her apologies if she hasn’t yet written to thank you for sponsoring a mile. We’ve had a great response over the last few days, and she is struggling to keep up with her thank you emails. I thank you for keeping her so busy – it gives her less time to worry….!

 

Other Stuff:

Our campaign for a plastic-bag free Olympics runs on…. We had hoped to have a definite ban in place by now, but we still have some work to do. We are seeking to get as many signatures as possible on our petition in order to convince the powers-that-be to do the right thing.

As you probably know, more than 7 million tons of plastic trash reaches the marine environment every year. Even more goes into landfill. Most plastic is not biodegradable, and the chemicals it emits have been linked to human symptoms such as hormone disruption, breast cancer, prostate cancer, autism, Type 2 diabetes and decreased fertility. It has also been estimated that ocean plastics are responsible for the deaths of around 1.5 million marine mammals per year.

Please add your signature, and ask everybody in your network to do so too. I would love to see 100,000 signatures on there. Then they will HAVE to take notice!

Considering I was supposed to leave yesterday, it’s surprising how much I’m finding still to do. It’s true that work expands to fill the time available, and these few extra days are proving quite useful. Some people have commented that I must feel frustrated at the delay, but if the ocean has taught me anything, it is patience. Things happen in their own good time – especially where weather is concerned.

I’ve quite enjoyed having the extra time to mooch around my boat, rearranging things, tweaking things, refining things. I’ve been out for long walks, appreciating my last few days on dry land, relishing and cherishing the sights and smells and sounds of terra firma. Soon these things will be a long-distant memory as I head out into my waterworld.

I’ve had time to sit in the coffee shop and commune with my journal (Freo coffee shop favourites are Fidel’s and Breaks), and think about what I would like to get out of this forthcoming row. It’s good to have an intention, but to be fairly relaxed as to whether it materialises or not. Or in what form it materialises. Yes, it would be great if I learned new things and had fresh insights. But that is not the kind of thing that you can decide upon in advance. What will be, will be.

I’ve also had time to cruise the internet and catch up on some news. The internet is one of the things that I miss when I’m on the ocean. Out there I don’t have the bandwidth for a browser, so I’m limited to email only. I was very interested to see, during the course of my perusings yesterday, that 350.org and 1Sky have merged. I thought this was an excellent move, for all the reasons that they state. We all need to pull together and combine forces in these challenging times. (I was wearing a 350 t-shirt as I finished the Pacific crossing.)

I mentioned this news to a friend here in Fremantle. Although very eco-wise, he hadn’t heard of 350.org, nor the significance of the 350 number. But I liked his off-the-cuff interpretation. It relied on the fact that the compass has 360 points. And that most of us (maybe 350 out of 360?) are wising up to the fact that we need to treat this Earth better. But 10 out of 360, the ones with power, the heads of corporations and a proportion of politicians, stand in the way.

I would like to believe this. But I’m not sure I can. How many people do really understand what is at stake? How many are doing something about it?

What do you think?

Other Stuff:

June and I spent this afternoon stickering my boat. Doesn’t she look fabulous?! Sedna’s bow is the province of the eco organizations that I am involved with:

UNEP

The BLUE Project

The Blue Frontier Campaign

350.org

Proud to have them on my prow!

BTW, apologies if the website is looking a little, errr, transitional, at the moment. Nick Jaffe of Arktisma and I are both working on updating the site before I launch, so it is currently a work in progress. Nick has developed and hosted my website free of charge, so I am immensely grateful to him for all his fantastic work, and for saving me a huge amount of money. Let’s hear it for Nick!!!! (And you haven’t even seen what he has created for the sponsor-a-mile project yet – I’ll tell you more tomorrow!)

My Number One FAQ is “What do you eat?” Yesterday I was asked this three times. Other days it’s even more. In the last 5 years I must have answered this question about a thousand times. I should start charging for the answer.

So, in the (probably vain) hope that I can pre-empt the question at least until I launch, I have decided to post a blog about it.

Of course, food is important at sea, as it is anywhere else, come to that! I do like good food, and during my rowing adventures it acquires even greater importance, as a welcome break from rowing and a highlight of the day. A good dinner can restore flagging morale like nothing else. Over the years I have put much thought into what to take.

First, it has to meet certain criteria:

- last for up to 4 months without refrigeration

- not take up too much space

- not get crushed too easily

- be resistant to damage by heat or damp

- be quick and easy to prepare

- be nutritious enough to sustain prolonged physical exertion

 

Then there are my personal additional criteria. In a perfect world, my rations would also be:

- organic

- sustainable

- local

- mostly vegan or vegetarian (although somewhat flexible on this)

- in biodegradable packaging

- ideally donated free of charge by sponsors

- and, of course, taste good!

 

It’s almost impossible to meet all of these criteria, all of the time, but over the years I have managed to get pretty close. So this year I will be taking with me:

 

From Larabar of Colorado, 432 raw fruit and nut bars:

32 x Ginger Snap

32 x Apple Pie

48 x Banana Bread

48 x Cinnamon Roll

48 x Pecan Pie

60 x Peanut Butter Cookie

60 x PBJ

60 x Jocolat – Chocolate

60 x Jocolat – Chocolate Coffee

 

From Wilderness Family Naturals of Minnesota:

6 jars Chocolate syrup (yum!)

6 x 1 lb Coconut powder (awesome when added to Thai curry!)

8 x 8oz Macadamia nuts

8 x 5.8oz Pecan nuts

8 x 6oz Almonds

8 x 8oz Brazils

8 x 4.5oz Walnuts

8 x 5.8oz Cashews

8 x 5oz Mixed nuts

8 x 8oz Pumpkin seeds

8 x 8oz Sunflower seeds

2 x Himalayan pink sea salt

8 x hot chocolate mix

4 x coconut spread

4 x freeze dried bananas

4 x freeze dried blueberries

4 x freeze dried raspberries

 

And plenty of good food from down under, too…..

 

Back Country Cuisine freeze-dried dinners from New Zealand. With all the stuff I add to it, one dinner lasts me for two nights. This is where the veggie side falls down a bit, but it really is nice to be able to have a hot dinner with some protein after a long day’s rowing. Kindly sponsored by Sea To Summit:

15 x Fish Pie

15 x Thai Chicken Curry

15 x Roast Chicken

15 x Babotjie

15 x Nasi Goreng

 

18kg rawfood crackers, made by ROAR Foods of Queensland, packaged in biodegradable plastic:

5 kgs of Pizza Base crackers

5 kgs of Sun Burgers

5 kgs of Mock Turkey Burgers (made with cashews and dried cranberries)

3 kgs of Beetroot crackers

 

25 packs of Shaklee energy chews from California

12 cans of Red Feather Canned Butter from New Zealand, supplied by Ballantyne

8kg of beans for sprouting from Farmland Greens of Western Australia – I grow my own sprouts on board, using a Sproutamo pot, and they really pack a powerful nutritional punch, chock-full of fibre, enzymes, minerals…. and crunch!

6 jars of lemon marmalade and 6 jars of plum jam from Lemon Ladies of California

20 bags of fancy nuts from Samudra of Western Australia (Candy Spice Nuts, Power Max Macadamias, Cacao Cashew Clusters, Sunny Glow Almonds)

 

Fresh foods (for as long as they last):

Artisan bread, courtesy of Abhi’s Bread Shop in Fremantle (Fruit & nut, Rye & fruit, Spelt, Wholemeal sunflower, Polenta and sultana)

Avocadoes

Mangoes

Hummus (3 tubs, biodegradable)

2kg cheese (Emmental and/or Jarlsberg)

Hard-boiled eggs

 

Other goodies:

Tahini (8 jars)

Shoyu sauce (8 bottles, tahini and shoyu get mixed with beansprouts and nuts for a yummy lunch, with rawfood crackers on the side)

Honey, purchased from Bartholomew’s Meadery during our weekend in Denmark, Western Australia (2 jars)

Miso  (organic, 30 sachets)

Green & Blacks chocolate (5 bars)

Ginger tea (good for seasickness, 50 teabags)

Garam masala (3 jars)

 

And as my insurance policy, I will also be taking some vitamin supplements from my UK supplier, Biocare:

Vyta-Myn Complex 3 x 60 capsules

Osteoplex 2 x 90 capsules

Jointguard 15 x 300ml

Hair and Nail Complex 2 x 90 capsules

Dermaguard 3 x 60 capsules

 

…and of course, no trip from these shores would be adequately provisioned without a jar of Vegemite!!

 

I reckon I’ve got the food down to a pretty fine art now. Enough variety to keep it interesting, without mealtimes becoming a major decision-making process. Enough nutrition, but also enough yumminess to keep me happy.

What about you? If you were going to stockpile enough food to keep you going for 4 months, what would you take? And what would be your special treat?

This morning I got an email from my weatherman, Lee Bruce, saying that the forecast for Friday has shifted slightly, making Friday rather less attractive as a launch day. He went into much more detail, but for me the phrase that leaped out was: “Since the starting conditions are the only ones we get a chance to pick, I’m leaning toward Tuesday.”

When your weatherman says that, you have to take it seriously. But Lee is also very deferential to local experts, those who know the regional weather patterns. So today when I was down at the Royal Perth Yacht Club Annexe, working on my boat, I asked around. Two of the weather gurus that I inherited from Sarah Outen (now several days into her epic adventure London To London Via The World) also voiced doubts about Friday, and liked the look of Tuesday.

Then my new favourite photographer and cameraman, Col Leonhardt, called up to say that it might be a bit tricky to get the helicopter for Friday. Not a major factor in the decision, but that just about clinched it.

The boat really is about ready to go. Today was a super-productive day. June and Pippa went shopping for the last few items on the shopping list while I worked on the boat – stowing, testing, installing, tidying. Michael from Fibrelite Boats added a few extra inches of antifoul to bring it up above the waterline – my boat seems to be riding lower in the water this year, probably due to unfeasibly enormous quantities of food. I reckon I have enough to last at least 6 months. Apart from a final provisioning with fresh bread, fruit and veg to last me the first few days of the voyage, Sedna is now ready and raring to go.

And I’m also ready to go. The ocean is calling.

Not to mention that it is now the end of mango season here in Australia (my favourite breakfast is mango, with organic yogurt, nuts and beansprouts). The seasons are shifting, change is in the air, and it’s time I was gone.

Soon, I will be. I’ll make the most of these last few days on land to do work on my website, tie off loose ends, putter around with technology. Even when you’re ready, there is always stuff to do.

Other stuff:

Today was the crucial meeting at City Hall in London, deciding whether the 2012 London Olympics will be plastic bag free. I’ve got everything crossed. In the final days we got some big names on board to support our campaign, including actor Jeff Bridges, musician Jackson Browne, and businesswoman Natalie Massenet of Net a Porter. But will it be enough to convince the powers-that-be? We can only hope… and I will let you know as soon as I hear anything!

Forthcoming blogs, by popular demand:

- what I eat at sea

- how to follow my voyage online.

As of last night, Brocade is Brocade no longer. That was her Pacific name, while Brocade were my title sponsors. Now she is reverting to her original Atlantic name of Sedna Solo. Sedna is the Inuit goddess of the ocean. My reasoning was that if I’m going to cast my fate upon the waters, it makes sense to suck up to the appropriate divinity. And for those of a more spiritual inclination, Sedna is also the goddess of infinite supply, which is a rather encouraging thought. The last few days it really has felt like an infinitely generous universe, with a sudden upturn in people from near and far sponsoring miles, and friends here in Fremantle helping out with final preparations.

I had the opportunity to thank many of them last night. We held the renaming ceremony on the boardwalk behind the Little Creatures brewery, a mere stone’s throw from the Royal Perth Yacht Club Annexe from where I will launch on Friday.

Tradition has it that Poseidon keeps a ledger of all ships’ names. If a boat is renamed, his ledger might get in a muddle, and then the great god himself would get discombobulated. And the last thing we want is a discombobulated ocean god. So correct procedure has to be followed.

Every last trace of the old name has to be eradicated from the vessel. Then the new name is announced, and prayers made to the four winds to beg for kind conditions. The full script (as gleaned from the internet) is reproduced below. It involved much sploshing of good red wine into the waters of Fremantle, which concerned me on several levels (marine pollution! waste of money! waste of perfectly good wine!), but the gods must be appeased. Or at least it’s not worth taking the risk.

The super-green mayor of Fremantle, Brad Pettit, who has been a champion supporter throughout, came along to help with the proceedings, and was persuaded to stick around for a Little Creatures beer afterwards. (Thanks to Brad for arranging bicycles, leisure centre membership, and event license for us.) Many of my trusty volunteers were also there, without whom this could not be happening. (Too many to mention here, but you know who you are, and you know that we love you!)

Col Leonhardt very kindly recorded the proceedings for posterity. These are his photos, and thanks also to Col for this morning’s photo shoot, using the over-under camera. Col will be there again at my departure, to record the event from air, water and land, in video and stills. Watch this space for more of his stunning images!

A question: I’m not especially superstitious, but at the same time it seemed to make sense to observe due process on this occasion for two main reasons:

a) what I do is dangerous enough – no point in tempting fate further!

b) I quite enjoy the sense of seafaring tradition, like I’m connecting into a deep heritage of voyages and adventure.

What are your thoughts? Is superstition a load of hogwash, or something that should be respected?

 

The Renaming Ceremony (courtesy of Boatsafe.com):

Once you are certain every reference to her old name has been removed from her, all that is left to do is to prepare a metal tag with the old name written on it in water-soluble ink. You will also need a bottle of reasonably good Champagne (we substituted a rather fine Australian wine, in honour of the local custom). Plain old sparkling wine won’t cut it. Since this is an auspicious occasion, it is a good time to invite your friends to witness and to party. Begin by invoking the name of the ruler of the deep as follows:

Oh mighty and great ruler of the seas and oceans, to whom all ships and we who venture upon your vast domain are required to pay homage, implore you in your graciousness to expunge for all time from your records and recollection the name (here insert the old name of your vessel) which has ceased to be an entity in your kingdom. As proof thereof, we submit this ingot bearing her name to be corrupted through your powers and forever be purged from the sea. (At this point, the prepared metal tag is dropped from the bow of the boat into the sea. Being NOT in favour of marine pollution, we mimed this part.)

In grateful acknowledgment of your munificence and dispensation, we offer these libations to your majesty and your court. (Pour at least half of the bottle of Champagne into the sea from East to West. The remainder may be passed among your guests.

It is usual for the renaming ceremony to be conducted immediately following the purging ceremony, although it may be done at any time after the purging ceremony. For this portion of the proceedings, you will need more Champagne, Much more because you have a few more gods to appease.Begin the renaming by again calling Poseidon as follows:

Oh mighty and great ruler of the seas and oceans, to whom all ships and we who venture upon your vast domain are required to pay homage, implore you in your graciousness to take unto your records and recollection this worthy vessel hereafter and for all time known as (Here insert the new name you have chosen), guarding her with your mighty arm and trident and ensuring her of safe and rapid passage throughout her journeys within your realm.

In appreciation of your munificence, dispensation and in honor of your greatness, we offer these libations to your majesty and your court. (At this point, one bottle of Champagne, less one glass for the master and one glass for the mate are poured into the sea from West to East.)

The next step in the renaming ceremony is to appease the gods of the winds. This will assure you of fair winds and smooth seas. Because the four winds are brothers, it is permissible to invoke them all at the same time, however, during the ceremony; you must address each by name. Begin in this manner:

Oh mighty rulers of the winds, through whose power our frail vessels traverse the wild and faceless deep, we implore you to grant this worthy vessel (Insert your boat’s new name) the benefits and pleasures of your bounty, ensuring us of your gentle ministration according to our needs.(Facing north, pour a generous libation of Champagne into a Champagne flute and fling to the North as you intone:) Great Boreas, exalted ruler of the North Wind, grant us permission to use your mighty powers in the pursuit of our lawful endeavors, ever sparing us the overwhelming scourge of your frigid breath.(Facing west, pour the same amount of Champagne and fling to the West while intoning:)  Great Zephyrus, exalted ruler of the West Wind, grant us permission to use your mighty powers in the pursuit of our lawful endeavors, ever sparing us the overwhelming scourge of your wild breath.(Facing east, repeat and fling to the East.) Great Eurus, exalted ruler of the East Wind, grant us permission to use your mighty powers in the pursuit of our lawful endeavors, ever sparing us the overwhelming scourge of your mighty breath.

(Facing south, repeat, flinging to the South.) Great Notus, exalted ruler of the South Wind, grant us permission to use your mighty powers in the pursuit of our lawful endeavors, ever sparing us the overwhelming scourge of your scalding breath.

Of course, any champagne remaining will be the beginnings of a suitable celebration in honor of the occasion.

Once the ceremony has been completed, you may bring aboard any and all items bearing the new name of your vessel. If you must schedule the painting of the new name on the transom before the ceremony, be sure the name is not revealed before the ceremony is finished. It may be covered with bunting or some other suitable material.

 

 

You know how immunization works? You are exposed to a little bit of infection so that you don’t get the full-blown illness? Well, I suppose Woody is my pirate immunization. I’m taking a little pirate so I don’t get a lot.

Woody has been loaned to me by my good friend Mariya, who I first met in Peru when I was looking for a climbing partner. It was actually Mariya’s hostel roommate, Mo, who replied to my advertisement, but Mariya came along for our acclimatization climb of Mount Pisco. When Mo went down with altitude sickness, it was just Mariya and I who reached the top of Mount Pisco with our guide. We both found it tough going, but slowly, slowly we made it, regularly reviving ourselves with our battle cry of “A las ninas!”

It was a formative experience, and Mariya and I have stayed in touch ever since.

I saw her a few times last month when I was attending the International Marine Debris conference in Hawaii, where she now lives and trains as an acupuncturist. On the last evening that I saw her, she told me she had something for me. She delved in her bag, apologizing for not having wrapped it, and pulled out a small object. “Hang on,” she said, “there’s another bit.” More delving.

Turns out the first object was Woody the pirate, and the second object was….. his skateboard. Obviously. Where would a pirate be without his skateboard? Makes perfect sense actually – if you have a wooden peg leg, I suppose a skateboard is quite a good way to get around. Especially if you stick to it magnetically, as Woody does.

Woody travelled around the world with Mariya for a year, and kept her safe from harm. I’m hoping he’ll do the same for me on the Indian Ocean this year.

Other Stuff:

More work on the boat today – still packing, sorting, arranging. I seem to have more food than ever this year, so much that I’m finding it difficult to find appropriate storage places for it all. I’ve probably got enough for at least 6 months, so running out of food is at least one thing I don’t need to worry about.

The final few days in the run-up to an expedition can be challenging. To Do lists seem never-ending and unachievable. Finances look precarious. During the day I keep plugging away (“one oarstroke at a time”) but at 3am I lie awake, the tasks still to be done buzzing around in my head like so many angry bees.

But then once in a while there is a day when it all comes good, and the To Do list suddenly looks almost do-able. Today was one of those days.

My marvellous team of new friends / volunteers turned up at the Fremantle Annexe of the Royal Perth Yacht Club, ready, willing and able to help out. We cleaned, packed, arranged and organized. By the end of the day much of the work was done, with most of the outstanding tasks being the ones that only I can do.

Oh, and the small matter of a sliding seat that thinks it is a fixed seat. But nothing that can’t be mended.

Huge thanks to Sally, Margot, John, June, Pippa, Col and Rob. Rob (Eustace), incidentally, is setting out on his own trans-Indian adventure a couple of days after I do, but from much further up the coast (smart man!). Meanwhile, thanks, Rob, for mucking in and helping out with the Purple Peril!

Would love to write more, but it has been a full-on day in the baking Australian sunshine. So I am going to go and hit the hay, and make the most of one of my last few nights in a large, comfortable bed that doesn’t move!