Generally, I am a paperless person. Being a global nomad, paper is heavy and impractical. I have found many ways to avoid paper – making notes on my iPhone, taking photos of documents and leaflets rather than taking them with me, and of course the awesome Cardscanner iPhone app to reduce the clutter of business cards.
But once in a while, some worthwhile bits of paper come into my life…. Herein follow some general updates, in which paper plays an unusually significant part.
On Saturday I was at Broadcasting House for BBC Radio 4′s Excess Baggage. If you missed the live show, you can still listen to it online here.
One of my four world record certificates
Great fun was had by all at the Ocean Rowing Society Dinner at London Rowing Club on Saturday night. Back in 2004, just a few weeks after I had decided to row the oceans, I went to the Ocean Rowing Weekend in Torquay and had a long and informative conversation with rower Graham Walters. On Saturday we once again talked at length, during which he conceded that there is no longer very much he can teach me about ocean rowing. It gave me a pleasing sense of having come full circle – literally (around the world via the 3 big oceans) as well as figuratively.
I also received four Guinness certificates for my four world records, which have now been confirmed as:
- longest row completed by a solo woman
- first woman to row the Pacific solo
- first woman to row three oceans
- longest total time at sea by a female ocean rower
Yesterday (Sunday) I went to a fascinating talk by Jeremy Naydler, author of Gardening As A Sacred Art. He described the “beautiful uselessness” of ornamental gardening as an antidote to the prevailing view of nature as a resource to be pillaged and exploited for mankind’s benefit. Very thought-provoking. It also turned out that, by strange coincidence, his father was the author of a book about ocean rowing: The Penance Way, about Hoare and Johnstone’s fatal voyage across the North Atlantic in 1966. It reminded me how very happy I am NOT to be doing the North Atlantic next year.
Last night I dined in formal hall at my old college, University College Oxford. I was delighted to find George Cawkwell also dining at high table. George is now 92 years old and retired from active duty as a Classics tutor, but is still as sharp as a tack. A great testament to the virtues of living an engaged and active life.
Invitation from the Queen
And finally, some exciting news. An invitation from the Queen (via the Master of the Household) to attend an event on 8th December at Buckingham Palace, to be attended by explorers and adventurers to mark the centenary of the death of Scott of the Antarctic - another in that fine British tradition of adventurers who died on expedition. Maybe it is just as well that I quit rowing while I was ahead – and alive.
I was surprised and enlightened by the response to my off-the-cuff comments about the pace of life and the ubiquity of social media. I seem to have struck a chord. If so many of us want to slow down, why are we all still going so fast?
An oasis of slow living in the midst of a fast life: lunch at Angelo's forge
A large part of the reason, surely, has to be the peer pressure to always be available. Ever since I returned to dry land, I have been fighting a losing battle with my Inbox. The messages are exciting and they are welcome, but there are so very many of them. I would like to think that this is because I am so spectacularly popular (!) but in truth, this seems to be a pervasive problem that is shared by most of my friends. We all wish we had less email, more time.
Don’t get me wrong. Communication is good. Relationships are essential to happiness and wellbeing. But how do we ensure that we don’t sacrifice quality to quantity? How do we make sure that we don’t mistake communication for connection? It is easy to communicate with somebody, but harder to truly connect with them on an emotional and energetic level that enhances the lives of both individuals.
One of my back-to-dry-land resolutions is to work at making time to have deep and meaningful conversations. Ideally in person, but it is possible to be deep and meaningful online too – if you have enough time. So far, my resolution has not been particularly successful. My rushed lunch at Angelo’s forge. My hectic schedule across 4 cities in 2 weeks. It is far easier said than done.
I remember back to the summer of 2004, my own personal “Summer of Love” – love for the world, love for my new life, love for the limitless opportunities opening up to me when I let go of the fears and limitations of my old life. Time was on my side. I allowed conversations to reach their natural conclusions. I took time to enjoy the smell and sight of a flower, or to enjoy the shade of a tree, or to savour a meal break away from my laptop.
Magic ensued. I had that blinding flash of inspiration to row across oceans to raise environmental awareness. I had allowed my subconscious the time and space to percolate the inputs and produce an output. I yearn for that to happen again.
When my consciousness is being bombarded by input, there is no opportunity for the outputs to happen. It’s like the ideas are trying to get out through a doorway that is jammed by incoming traffic. At this formative stage of my life, as I consider my plans for the next 7 years, I need to relax, slow down, kick back, and allow the wisdom to emerge.
How do you make me-time in your busy day? I’d love to hear from you.
Other Stuff:
I have just arrived in London, via a busy 36 hours in New York. I am here until Sunday, before heading to Oxford. A quick glimpse into my diary:
Friday: various meetings with agents, collaborators, and friends in London
Saturday: interview on ”Excess Baggage” on BBC Radio 4 with John McCarthy, who may know a thing or two about being confined in small spaces. In the evening, receiving Guinness world records certificates at the Ocean Rowing Society dinner.
One of the most formative books I listened to this summer while at sea was The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan. And one of my favourite poets is Michael Ondaatje, who also wrote The English Patient.
So what could possibly be better than being invited to attend a small, select lunch with Dr Aenor Sawyer (my esteemed expedition medic), Michael Ondaatje, Kitchen Sister Davia Nelson, and two characters from the Omnivore’s Dilemma – forager/blacksmith Angelo Garro and landowner Richard Hylton? It was a dream come true!
"And then I rowed this ocean..."
The only problem was that my schedule was already chockablock, and Michael was only briefly in town. But somehow we managed to shoehorn in a lunch at Angelo Garro’s forge in downtown San Francisco. So even though it seemed a horrible contradiction in terms, I had a QUICK lunch prepared by one of the leading proponents of the SLOW Food movement before dashing off to a prior commitment.
A slow food lunch
Angelo’s forge is an Aladdin’s cave of metal objects, hanging from and resting upon every available surface. But his kitchen is full of light, a huge chandelier hanging over the dining table. Plates of paper-thin home-cured ham accompanied rose wine, before we moved on to home-made pasta with pesto sauce, sausages, and salad.
It was the kind of lunch – and the kind of company – that deserved an entire, leisurely, relaxed afternoon. We weren’t able to do that this time around. But it felt like one of those meetings that is just the beginning of some very special friendships. I felt very lucky to meet these amazing and talented people.
Cheers! To the health of the planet!
Angelo has offered to take me foraging the next time I am in the Bay Area. As Vic and I have discussed extensively in our podcast, self-reliant people are resilient people. Knowing how to find your own food – other than on the shelves of the nearest supermarket – is an empowering skill to have. So far, the full extent of my foraging is a single mushroom-hunting expedition with a friend in England. Mushrooms are great, but not much to live on. So I am looking forward to learning more. I’ve also spotted some great courses organized by the Low Impact Living Initiative in Britain, which I will be checking out when I have the time.
After a few days in DC (more info in my next blog) I am now in New York for 24 hours before heading back to Britain for a week. I’ve got a busy day of meetings tomorrow, including seeing Margaret Lydecker of Green Drinks NYC, Joan from Atlanta, and dialling in to the board meeting of Adventurers and Scientists for Conservation. Lots of good stuff happening. Stay tuned!
Hello again! I am so happy to be back in the land of the blogging. We had a technical problem with WordPress, coupled with an insane couple of weeks since I returned to the US, with the net result that I have felt utterly bereft of blogability since my last posting.
But thanks to Nick Jaffe, my ever-intrepid webmaster, it seems that we have overcome the gremlins and are now back online. Isn’t it ironic that despite the patchy satphone coverage in the Indian Ocean, my blogging was more consistent then than it has been since landfall?! Thanks for hanging on in there, and from now on we should be back in business.
So much to catch up on, but for now here is the blog that I have been trying to post for the last couple of weeks. Much more soon to come…
I am often asked how it feels to be back on dry land after spending so much time alone on the ocean. There are definitely some interesting aspects during re-entry to so-called “civilization”. So what are my first impressions, now that I have been back on terra firma for 11 days?
First, everybody is so BUSY! And things move so fast. People are rushing to post photos, reply to emails, send an update, return a call. On the ocean I usually only logged onto my email once a day. I would write my emails and store them in the outbox, then try to get a data connection (which could take anything up to half an hour). The software would then upload my outgoing emails, and download my incoming emails. Replies had to wait until I logged on again the next day, so the turnaround time was often 48 hours or more. And you know what? The world didn’t stop turning because I hadn’t replied within 5 minutes. When did everything get so hectic?
Second, everybody is occupying everything. Wall Street, London, Toronto. Even Obama. I haven’t had time yet to figure out how I feel about this. For sure, our financial system is teetering. But what are the protesters offering as an alternative? It’s easy to point out the obvious, but less easy to come up with a solution. But awareness is a very important first step, and as soon as they are FOR something rather than against it. I will be there.
Third, after five months away, social media seems to be bigger than ever. The Trasher’s Ball in LA was extensively Facebooked, including the second time in a week that I have been caught on camera in the act of dancing badly. The first time I had the excuse that I had just stepped off a boat. The second time that excuse was getting a bit out of date. Even our little party at Greens in San Francisco last night was posted all over Facebook. And now we have Google+ as well. Wow. After being so very much off the grid, this immediacy is a major upshift in tempo, and I’m still trying to adjust. Are we all really happy with this, or is it occasionally just a tiny bit stressful?!
I had wondered if there would be exciting new technological developments to tempt me to spend my money. Fortunately, temptation seems to be thin on the ground. The new iPhone is nothing to get too excited about. No disrespect to the late and much-missed Steve Jobs. I’ll hang onto my 3GS until the 5 comes out.
Other than that, the world seems much the same. There are still advertisers trying to sell us stuff we don’t need. There are still politicians saying things that strain the bounds of credulity. There is still too much plastic, too much food going to waste, and too much traffic on the roads. But still occasional outbreaks of common sense and random acts of kindness. ‘Tis a strange and wonderful world.
And, all things told, I am very happy to be back in it.
Barely a week after I arrived in Mauritius, it was time to hit the road again. Places to go, people to see, but it was with a heavy heart that I bade farewell to this beautiful island.
The pool where I had my morning swim
I have met many wonderful people here – with special thanks to Michel and Anne Bourgeois at 20 Degrees South, Pipo at the Grand Baie Yacht Club, Jean-Edgar Merle who has helped out in so many ways as well as throwing a fantastically decadent dinner party for me and Team Roz, Nicholas Weiss who hosted an afternoon event for me at his home on the east coast, and the TV folks at MBC.
I’d like to say a bit more about 20 Degrees South. There is a certain kind of hotel that I daydream about as I row across oceans. I very rarely stay in hotels, generally staying with friends whose company I cherish, and to save on cost and environmental impact – but I have to confess that there is nothing like the feel of crisp, white sheets tautly stretched across a comfortable hotel mattress to make me feel truly blissful. Just imagine how good that feels after 5 months of sleeping in an increasingly itchy and malodorous sleeping bag!
Amazing towel sculptures awaited me every night on those crisp white sheets!
20 Degrees South is up there with the best of them. A little slice of boutique hotel heaven, and eco-friendly to boot. Breakfast jam, instead of coming in disposable plastic pots, comes in elegant little glasses with tiny jam spoons. Milk for your tea comes in cute mini milk bottles. Laundry bags are fabric, not plastic, and room keys have to be inserted in a slot to activate aircon and lights, ensuring guests don’t leave electricity burning when they leave the room.
Dinky little jam pot, about an inch across
I’d like to thank Michel and Anne for their warm hospitality, and for doing their bit to make the world a better, greener place.
I would also like to make a special thank you to the Grand Baie Yacht Club for hosting a presentation last Friday night. The event was a victim of its own success – the paltry 7 copies of Rowing The Atlantic that we had managed to obtain was far outstripped by demand, so apologies to those who did not manage to get a copy. If you email me via the contact form on this website, I will get hold of some more copies, sign them, and send them to you.
So where to next?
I am writing this blog en route to Los Angeles, where tomorrow I will be meeting Diana Nyad, the amazing 62-year-old ultra-distance swimmer, to further the acquaintance we started via Skype last week (video here, filmed at 20 Degrees South). On Thursday you can catch me at a Green Drinks/Surfrider event. At the Trashers Ball I will be making a short presentation – and my debut as a model! I’ll be wearing a trashy creation by designer Marina De Bris (geddit?!) and my good friends from the 5 Gyres Institute, Marcus Eriksen and Anna Cummins, will also be on the catwalk.
Then on Friday I’m off to San Francisco. ALL ARE WELCOME for celebratory drinks at Greens Restaurant in Fort Mason from 5pm until about 9pm on Friday, 14th October.
After a round of meetings in San Francisco I’m off to New York, from 22nd to 26th October. No plans as yet for any public appearances or events there, but I will keep you posted if that changes.
And finally…. my apologies for general bloglessness for the last 5 or 6 days. I had a wonderful time in Mauritius but it was exceedingly busy, and this is the first moment I have had to myself. From now on I should be able to post a blog every 3 or 4 days. And, of course, I will still be podcasting with Vic over at Roz Roams every week. So stay tuned!
You can see ROZ’S ROUTE here. Each dot links to the blog from that day.
Roz is delighted to announce that the Ocean Rowing Society has verified new records held by her:
Finished in Mauritius on October 4th 2011 at 6:27GMT
Congratulations to Roz on becoming
The First Woman and The First British person to Row Three Oceans; the longest row completed by a woman. and the longest total time at sea spent by a woman rower.
Roz is dealing with interviews and practical details concerning the cleaning up and sorting out of everything on Sedna. She is very grateful to all who have helped to make this possible, major sponsors, the many followers who sponsored her miles, but also those who took part by commenting and showing interest in what she has been doing. Without your help and encouragement she could not have achieved these results.
I wish to express my gratitude, too, for your generous help to Roz, and to myself, making it possible for me to be here in Mauritius for her arrival.
Last night we had a meal together to celebrate her records and also to thank her “arrivals team” all of whom have done a sterling job: Tony Humphreys (logistics), Aenor Sawyer (doctor and doer of all sorts of other tasks), and Colin Leonhardt (photographer and taxi-man)
Other friends have been here, too assisting with a thousand and one tasks to be done. We are grateful to the 20degrees-South Hotel for kindly accommodating Roz during her stay here at Grand Bay.
You can see ROZ’S ROUTE here. Each dot links to the blog from that day.
I’ve done it! After 5 months and 0 days at sea, I am absolutely over the moon to be back on dry land, surrounded by friends and wellwishers – and, of course, my dear mother. I have just become the first woman to row across the “Big Three” oceans of the world – the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian.
I’d like to thank all my blog readers for your unwavering support over
the course of this very, very long final voyage. You have been a source
of tremendous inspiration, encouragement, information and amusement. I
hope that you were able to participate in at least part of my final
countdown to landfall, no matter what time zone you are in, and that you feel a vicarious pride in my achievement. We’ve been through a lot
together – the highs and lows, capsizes and pratfalls, triumphs and
setbacks.
To mark this momentous occasion, I’ve put together a summary of the
highlights – and lowlights – of Eat-Pray-Row, my solo crossing of the
Indian Ocean. As I started writing it, I found that almost all of my
notable moments started with an F. So here we have it – Roz’s Effing
Guide to Eat-Pray-Row.
Fremantle
It was 14th April when I first set out from Fremantle. Col Leonhardt
produced a wonderful video to mark the occasion. I had hoped to row nonstop from there to Mauritius. Little did I know….
False Start
Within the first few days, in rough weather off the coast of Western Australia, it became apparent that my brand new locker hatches lacked one vital feature – keeping water out. Maybe that cost extra. Concerned that my watermaker would not respond well to being flooded, I decided to pull in at Geraldton for pre-emptive work to relocate the watermaker pump. Unfortunately I picked a holiday weekend, and it must have been a slow one for news, because it all turned into a big hullaballoo, which was most embarrassing.
But thanks to a magnificent display of Aussie kindness, hospitality and “mateship” the problems were quickly addressed and I was once again on my way, only to discover two days later that my solar panels were not charging my batteries. No sooner had I made this discovery than I came on deck and saw a sliver of golden sand on the horizon. Neptune had very kindly flung the Abrolhos Islands exactly the right distance out into the ocean. Glenn, the Geraldton electrician, flew out to the tiny airstrip, located the problem, identified a workaround, and once again I was on my way.
Fun
Early in the row, we had a craze for limericks. Never before has the English language been so misused in the search for rhymes, and the less said about some of them, the better. However, some of them were quite good. My favourite came from Joan Sherwood in Atlanta:
There was a young rower named Roz
Whose oars were quite rough on her paws
But she pulled on tenaciously
And thanked sponsors quite graciously
After all it was for a great cause.
I also have to thank Joan for proposing that readers send in their jokes to keep my spirits up. The response was incredible!
Food
Eating alone at sea is a wonderful excuse for “kiddy cooking” – taking
various yummy things and mixing them together into unlikely combinations that I would never consider eating in polite company. I had an additional excuse on this voyage, as it became evident early on that the voyage would take longer than was expected, and I might run low on food. So I had to make sure that every calorie on board was put to good use. A last-minute sponsorship had put 12 tins of Red Feather canned butter in the storecupboard, so just about everything got slathered in butter.
Two of my best creations were Cococompote (aka Roz’s Purple Wonder Breakfast and Chocobutter (Wilderness Family Naturals hot chocolate + butter + salt). Other favourites were Karen Morss’s Lemon Ladies marmalade and plum jam, Samudra nuts (especially the Cosmic Love Clusters) and the “mock turkey” and “pizza base” rawfood crackers made specially for me by ROAR Foods. And, of course, I couldn’t cross an ocean without my trusty Larabars and beansprouts.
Five Favourite Audiobooks
Man’s Search For Meaning (Viktor Frankl) – deep, meaningful, and inspiring
Change of Heart (Jodi Picoult) – thought-provoking fiction about the things we choose to believe
The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay) – an autobiographical insight into South Africa, hard-hitting yet funny
Straight Man (Richard Russo) – laugh out loud hilarious, great characters
All of the Maisie Dobbs books (Jacqueline Winspear) – wonderful detective stories set in 1930s London
Fish
One of my abiding memories of the Indian Ocean will be the companionship of the “chaps downstairs”, especially the dorados. A growing community gathered beneath my hull, until there were about 7 regulars and a school of another twenty or so who dropped in from time to time. They were a constant source of entertainment, with their acrobatic leaps and resounding bellyflops. As time wore on, they became increasingly bold, flicking water at me with their tails, and banging the bottom of the boat with their bodies when they thought it was time I got a move on.
Things would get really lively when the yellowfin tuna came by. A hundred or more of them would school around my boat, occasionally making the surface of the water seethe with activity. Throw a couple of dorados into the mix, and it could turn into an absolute frenzy.
In the absence of human contact, or even a smiley volleyball a la Castaway, the fish became my new best friends.
Failures
I hate to think of anything as a failure. Provided you learn something from it, it’s a success, right? But it started with an “f”. Or I suppose we could call this section “F***-ups”, but that’s a bit rude.
Even after the pitstop in the Abrolhos, the electrical system was an ongoing source of stress. A control unit had developed a fault that required frequent attention, until it eventually failed completely.I overcame my fear of all things electrical, performed a triple bypass surgery on the unit, and had no further problems.
Other casualties included two tracking units, several iPods, 3 sets of
earbuds, and a GPS chartplotter. A capsize in high seas towards the end
of the voyage did me no favours, breaking two oars, two antennae (VHF
radio and Sea-Me radar enhancer) and shattering my washbucket.
Fear
Yes, I’ve been afraid – numerous times. Flinching at the sound of onrushing waves, wondering if they are going to capsize the boat. Afraid that the electrical system would fail completely, disabling the electrical watermaker and forcing me back onto the manual version. And, occasionally, a faint fear that this ocean really would go on forever and I would never make landfall. But I survived, and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Philosophy Fridays
I was concerned that my more abstract musings might not be to
everybody’s taste, so I proposed confining my philosophical blogs to
Fridays. Gradually they became the highlight of my blogging week, at
least as far as I was concerned and, I think, for many of my readers
too. I really enjoyed reading the feedback in the comments, and your
input fueled many a happy afternoon’s ponderings on the ocean.
If you enjoyed our Philosophy Fridays, you might enjoy revisiting some
of these blogs:
I have often felt the force of friendship this year – from the friends old and new in Australia, the old faithfuls on the blog, and the newcomers who have brought a fresh perspective. I hope that, even though I am now hanging up my oars, we will stay in touch, and that many more of you will become face-to-face friends as well as blog and Facebook friends.
Flastic
Okay, maybe I’m starting to strain the F-theme a bit now. But I couldn’t
post a whole blog with no mention of my current environmental cause -
banning theplastic bag. We are still waiting with baited breath to hear the news from London. I will let you know as soon as I hear anything. Meanwhile, please keep refusing, reducing, reusing, repurposing and recycling your plastics – and we WILL save the world from the plastic peril, one bag or one city-wide ban at a time.
Fank Yous
Special thank yous to “Team Roz” – Mum, June, Vic, Doug, Sandra, Aimee, Aenor, Lee,
and Tom. Also to sponsors, supporters, sponsor-a-milers, and of course
all my wonderful Rozlings. I would also like to make a special mention
of Timothy Ray, my young friend who died unexpectedly soon after the start of my row . Thank you, Tim for being such an inspiration. I hope you would have been proud of me this year.
I was especially touched by the amazing response to our “Send Rita To See Roz” appeal. I had been a bit nervous about asking for your support once again after so many of you had generously sponsored miles through the Nomaddica page, but I should never have doubted you.
We reached our target in double-quick time, and it was wonderful to hear that my mother had been able to book her flights to Mauritius – a
wonderful treat for her, especially after having spent so much of the
summer in a cast after breaking her leg.
I will be sending out individual thank you emails to all my sponsors
just as soon as I can. Please be patient with me – I have a lot to be
grateful for, and a lot of people to be grateful to!
And finally, a respectful nod and a prayer to Neptune, for being so kind
as to allow me to cross the Indian Ocean. I will now stop bugging him
with requests to rearrange the weather especially for my benefit.
Future
I certainly won’t be resting on my laurels – well, maybe for a few days,
but then I’ll be once more back in action. I have lots of plans for the
next chapter of my life, including another two books (one environmental,
based on the Pacific row, and one based on the Hopi Elders guidelines
for self-reliance), a film about the Pacific row, and creating a
foundation to support the next generation of changemakers. Meanwhile, I will be making a number of public and semi-public appearances, and it
would be great to see you at any of the following. I am especially
excited about the Himalaya trip!
San Francisco: I will be in the city for a week later this month and we will be having an informal celebration at the Dolphin Club on Jefferson Street. I hope that all my friends in the Bay Area will be able to come and join us. Please watch this website for details and/or RSVP to Jay Gosuico,at [email protected]
Edinburgh: for any old Univ-ites in Scotland, I will be attending the
Univ dinner in Edinburgh on 22nd October (private event, by invitation
only).
London: I will be attending the Ocean Rowing Society Dinner at the RAC
Club on 29th October.
USA: I will once again be speaking as part of the National Geographic
Live series next February:
7th and 8th Feb: Phoenix, Arizona
20th Feb: Dallas
We are in the process of putting together further speaking dates in the
US – details to follow.
Himalayas: in October/November 2012 I will be escorting an expedition to
the Himalayas for World Expeditions. The 25-day Everest High Passes trip
takes in base camp, the tough but rewarding viewpoint of Kala Pattar and 3 alpine passes above 5000m along the way. 10% of the cost of each participant will go to an environmental charity of my choice.
Meanwhile, if you’re missing me already (?!) you can get a Roz-fix by
readingRowing the Atlantic: Lessons Learned on the Open OceanMemoirs) my book , watching my Atlantic film (downloadable) – or by continuing to check in at this website. I will be blogging from time to time with news about events, speaking engagements, and hopefully the success of our plastic bag campaign. And who knows, I may even throw in the occasional Philosophy Friday for good measure.
But right now, my immediate future consists of heading to my hotel room for a shower, and later a slap-up meal.
Pictures courtesy of Colin Leonhardt, Bird’s EyeView Photography.
You can see ROZ’S ROUTE here. Each dot links to the blog from that day.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Roz Savage Celebrates After Setting World Record at Gunners Coin
After rowing over 4,000 miles of pirate-infested ocean Roz Savage crossed the official line of longitude at 0627 UTC on 4th of October, 2011 becoming the First Woman to Row Across the “Big Three” Oceans of the World: the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans
Roz Savage crossed official line of longitude at 0627 UTC
The Ocean Rowing Society International issued a message, “This is a really fantastic achievement, please pass to Roz our sincere admiration and congratulations! We are prepared to submit Guinness Records a list of the records Roz is entitled to and will inform you about it shortly.”
When Roz set out to row the Atlantic, critics said, “She isn’t tall enough or strong enough to row an ocean.” But at last, after rowing 15,000 miles, taking over 5 million oar strokes, and spending over 500 days at sea, Roz Savage has set a world record and accomplished her goal. What motivates Roz Savage to row the oceans? It is her mission to show that each one of us has a role in fostering environmental sustainability and creating our collective future. Just like her oar-strokes, many tiny actions add up to a big achievement.
Colin Leonhardt provided an aerial video of Roz Savage as she departed on the Indian Ocean from Australia.
On April 21st Roz was questioning her career options. She wrote, “Surely there have to be easier ways to spread the good green word. By 9pm my boat had been knocked down twice already, big waves had knocked her over to an angle of greater than 90 degrees. 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…”
Roz (age 43) freely admits to being an unlikely adventurer. She is only 5’4″, and was already in her late thirties by the time she started ocean rowing, having spent the first eleven years of her adult life working as a management consultant in London. Her life changed when she wrote two versions of her own obituary – the one she wanted and the one she was heading for – and realized she wasn’t on track for the kind of life that would leave a worthwhile legacy. She turned her back on her materialistic lifestyle and reinvented herself as an adventurer, using her ocean voyages to raise awareness and inspire action on environmental issues.
“On the ocean, it’s clear that I have to keep showing up day after day and sticking my oars in the water if I want to get to where I’m going. It’s the same with any big challenge, including the environment. We all have to start living more sustainably, and keep up those good habits day after day, if we are to correct our course for a cleaner, greener, brighter future.” Roz Savage
The Grand Baie Coast Guard monitored her arrival and ‘shadow’ from Gunners Coin. Roz Savage was escorted by; Tony Humphreys (Water Logistics Manager) Colin Leonhardt (Videographer), Dr. Aenor Sawyer (Expedition Medic) along with members of the press and MBC News through the Coin Channel to the Grand Baie Yacht Club in Grand Baie, Mauritius, on October 4th, 2011. Roz was warmly greeted by her Mum and Team Captain, Rita Savage, who had been eagerly awaiting Roz’s arrival at the dock. Immigration, Health and Customs Officials attended at the time of arrival and conducted the official formalities at GBYC.
For further information and to schedule interviews: In the USA and Canada please contact:
Sandra Vaughn, Development Specialist for Roz Savage, (971) 373-8095;[email protected]
http://rozsavage.com
For B-roll and High-res press photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/67864917@N02/with/6195421366/
http://vimeo.com/user1977497 Photo/Film Credit; BVPVISUALS.COM
In the UK, Australia, and all other countries please contact:
Alan Murray or Zoe Chanas at Seven20 Management.
Office: +44 (0)1403 282 199, +44 (0)1403 282 199; Mobile: +44 (0) 7760 183744, +44 (0)7760 183744; Email: [email protected]
Facebook shows me that many people are wishing that they were here to watch Roz arrive. Without her permission, I am giving you a brief update. No pictures yet, apart from those of the team that have been uploaded to the the most recent blog.
The team assembled here at the Yacht Club, Grand Bay, at 6am, and have gone off in a boat to meet up with Roz in the Quoin Channel. She has been navigating through the night, making sure that she avoids the coral reefs.
About 9.30 I had a message that they have met up with Roz, and she is continuing to row right into the bay if possible, rather than being towed. I opted to stay here at the Yacht club to be on the jetty when she does arrive – probably another hour to go.
You can see ROZ’S ROUTE here. Each dot links to the blog from that day. 6.9 nautical miles to go to rendezvous with Team boat. Due to arrive Tuesday morning at Grand Bay Yacht Club
I thought that last night would be my last night on the ocean. I rowed on and off throughout the hours of darkness, taking catnaps as necessary to keep my energy levels up. The night was rough and blustery, and I snuggled my face into the hood of my orange waterproof jacket as the waves crashed and splashed around me. Stars shone hazily through the clouds, and phosphorescence glittered from the ocean as if in response. The only other lights were the faint glow of the compass between my feet – and the lights of Mauritius, glinting alluringly from the horizon behind me. At last, after 150 days at sea, land was in sight.
I ploughed on, hoping I would be able to make enough miles overnight in order to ensure landfall today. But by 5am local time, as sunrise approached, I still had 27 nautical miles to go. At current rates of progress, I would arrive in Grand Baie shortly after sunset tonight.
Making landfall in darkness is not ideal. Strong reasons for a daylight landing are dictated by safety, logistics, customs regulations and media-friendliness. But to make landfall before the sun sets at 6.05pm I would have had to average better than 2 knots all day – and the rare occasions that I’ve managed that on this voyage I’ve had a strong current helping me along, which I don’t have here.
Colin, Tony, Aenor, Rita.
I was reluctant to give up on my dream of making landfall today. I looked at my GPS, and my logbook, and back to the GPS again, optimistically trying to make the numbers work, but they just wouldn’t. No matter how motivated I might be to feel terra firma beneath my feet, it just wasn’t going to be physically possible.
I rang Tony Humphreys, my landfall logistics manager, to confirm my prognosis. Poor man – I’ve never spoken to him before, only emailed, and here I was calling him at 5am. But he sounded fresh and alert, and agreed with my calculations. We made plans for a landfall early tomorrow morning, 4th Oct, which will be exactly 5 months after I left from North Island in the Abrolhos.
As I write, I am about 20 tantalizing miles from the nearside of Mauritius, and 26 miles from Grand Baie on the leeward side. The wind is pushing me towards land, but I have to try and drag my heels to hold off my arrival until after sunrise tomorrow morning. I can’t put out the sea anchor to slow my progress, as there is a weak current flowing to the southwest, trying to sweep me onto the fringing reefs of the windward coast. The sea anchor would only exacerbate the effect of the current. I need to maintain a precise course due west in order to hit the bullseye of the narrow Quoin Channel.
Conditions are rough and grey this morning, so unfortunately I won’t be spending my day sunbathing. More likely I’ll be hiding out in the cabin, popping out once in a while to tweak the rudder. Once in a while, no doubt I will steal a look towards the silhouette of Mauritius on the horizon, and think of Mum and my team waiting there for me, and wish that I was with them.
Before I started ocean rowing, I thought it was mostly about rowing. But there is so much more to it than that. When you include all the land-based preparations, and the non-rowing activities that take place at sea, rowing is only a fraction of the whole. This present situation is an example of when it’s NOT about the rowing, but rather about seamanship, and navigation, and trying not to go crazy about the fact that I am so near, and yet so far, from shore. Looks like I’ve got another 24 hours before I can get to that hot shower, cold beer, and comfortable bed!
Quote for the day: “Adopt the pace of nature; her secret is patience.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson)
Photo 1: Left o right: Colin Leonhardt (photographer), Aenor Sawyer (doctor and friend), Rita (Roz’s mother), Tony Humphreys (logistics for arrival)
Photo 2: The Team at the Grand Bay Yacht Club.
Sponsored Miles: Very, very special thanks to all who have sponsored miles for Roz along the way, including these last names on the list: Larry Grandt, Jennifer Bester, Kamas Industries, Louis Girard, John Newson, Megan Lutz and Doug Grandt. I believe it was Rick Hyman who a long time ago asked for his name to be there sponsoring “the last mile!”
Recent additions, thanks go to:John Hayes, Ardith Januszewski, Alaia Leighland, Diane Freeman, Chris Walroth, Dominique Chantier, Charles Pell, Rick Paczewski,Robert F Harrison, John Miller, Terry Oliver, Kenneth Edding, Charles Uyeda, Patrick Seeholzer, Andrew Hedges, Joanne Pannone, Moni Law, Romy Shovelton, Leslie Layton, Graham Dickie, Green Drinks NYC, Annabel Arndt.
You can see ROZ’S ROUTE here. Each dot links to the blog from that day. Likely to arrive 3rd October, latest position 43.6 miles to go.
Today is the day that my mother arrives on the island of Mauritius to meet me, so it seemed a good time to tell you a bit more about this remarkable woman who, believe me, has done many more interesting things in her life than give birth to me and my sister. Of course, as Mum is also my shore manager and poster-of-blogs, she will get to see this before you do – so I had better be careful what I write, or I may later find that she has exercised her editorial rights!
My mother was born Rita Adriana Cullingworth, in Cape Town, South Africa, on 22nd January 1939 (I hope she won’t mind me giving away her age). Her parents were English-speaking South Africans (rather than Afrikaaners) and already had a son, Richard. Her father worked as an engineer for South African Railways, and enjoyed making things with his hands. He also enjoyed the great outdoors, and combined these two loves by building a caravan (he was a founder member of the South African Caravan Club) and a boat so he could explore the African wilderness with his young family.
When Rita was thirteen years old, tragedy struck. Her mother went into hospital for a routine hysterectomy, but after the operation she developed a blood clot that led to a thrombosis and she died. Today a simple blood-thinning agent, like aspirin, would probably have been administered post-op and she would have lived. Rita left school, having matriculated, at the age of sixteen, managing the household while working at the South African Institute For Medical Research as a laboratory technician in a small Cancer Research unit.
That year she also began training as a lay preacher, qualifying in 1958. She had felt her calling to be a deaconess early in life, and in 1960 she took her commitment to the next level by enrolling at the deaconess college in Ilkley, Yorkshire, England. It was there that she first met Hamer Savage, when she was preaching at a local chapel that he attended. He didn’t let a couple of minor obstacles get in his way – like the fact that he was ten years older than she, and that Methodist deaconesses were not allowed to marry – and wooed her for the remainder of her time at the college.
Between the two college years at Ilkley, she and two friends toured through eight countries in Europe by car, camping, and visiting deaconess institutions (mainly nursing orders in Europe) in France, Germany, Denmark and Holland.
She returned to South Africa to work on a mission out in the remote African bush, where there was a boarding school for 500 African teenage boys and girls, and a first–class training hospital for nurses. She and Hamer continued a correspondence for a while, but after a couple of years she wrote to say she couldn’t see much point in continuing to write. He promptly wrote back asking her to marry him.
This presented Rita with a quandary. She hadn’t even seen this man in two years – how could she decide if she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him? And was she willing to give up her vocation to preach? She prayed for a sign.
A kindly man at her church noticed that Rita was looking preoccupied, and asked what was wrong. She explained about the Englishman. The man offered to pay her passage to England so that she could see Hamer again and make up her mind. Rita had received her sign. She took a train to Lourenco Marques, boarded a plane to fly to Holland, then another to reach Manchester. In England Rita rediscovered why she had been attracted to Hamer, and the following year they were married on the mission in Africa. The scratchy old video of their wedding shows a joyous multicultural celebration, with Africans dancing and singing around a rather bewildered-looking, pale-skinned Yorkshireman.
Hamer had also decided to commit his life to ministry, and Rita found herself abruptly transplanted from the African bush to a dingy flat in Manchester while he completed his course at theological college. It was in that dingy flat that I was conceived – although we shall quickly draw a veil over that bit. I was born during Dad’s first posting, in Crewe, Cheshire, a northern town known chiefly as a major railway junction. My younger sister followed exactly 17 months later.
All went along pretty normally for the next 34 years or so. The Deaconess Order had changed its ruling on marriage, so Rita continued her work on ministry alongside my father. I grew up, got a job, married, settled down. Mum and Dad retired, and looked forward to the prospect of becoming grandparents. And then it all turned upside down. In the space of a few short years, I quit my job and left my husband, Dad had a stroke and died, and Mum found herself press-ganged into becoming shore manager to an ocean rower. And the rest you know.
Meanwhile, when not working for me, Rita does voluntary work for OPAL (Older People’s Action in the Locality), a registered charity which supports over 60’s in the area where she lives, helping them to live happy, healthy lives in their own homes. Rita helps with administration in the office for two sessions each week.
There is a theory that in each lifetime you get exactly the parents you need in order to learn what needs to be learned in that lifetime. That smacks rather too much of destiny for my liking – you know I prefer to believe in free will. But if this theory were true, I must have done something seriously good in a previous lifetime to deserve my Mum in this one. She may not always agree with what I do, but she always supports me, lovingly and unconditionally.
It must be one of the hardest things in the world to allow your child to go their own way, make their own mistakes, face down their own demons – when all you want to do is protect them. But Mum seems to understand the wisdom of “if you love them, set them free” – for which I am eternally grateful. If the proof of the pudding is in the eating, then I suppose the proof of the child-raising must be in the resulting adult (free will notwithstanding). So I will let you draw your own conclusions as to whether my mother did a good job!
Quote for the day: “A mother’s love liberates.” (Maya Angelou)
Sponsored Miles: Thanks today go to: Terry Jones, Kenny Runnerduck, Mohammed Yassiph, Wolfgang Stehr, Gina Alzate, David Martin, Nancy Smith, Sid Gray, S C Jordan; also to Kenny Runnderduck, Rich and Jolly King, Aunti Julie West and David Nicely who chose higher numbers.
You can see ROZ’S ROUTE here. Each dot links to the blog from that day. Likely to arrive 3rd October.
I owe you an explanation. I’m not very good at making Announcements (with a capital A). Maybe it’s in the interests of Ultimate Flexibility (UF), but my plans tend to kind of dribble out into the public arena, and occasionally dribble back in again. So I never formally announced that I was going to do the North Atlantic in 2012 – it just appeared on the map on my home page – and I have never formally un-announced it either.
But you may have gathered, from a few passing comments under “Other Stuff”, that I no longer intend to row from New York to London next year. And it is time that I explained why. There are many reasons, each of them strong in its own right, and adding up to a very definite decision – or, at least, a very definite decision as far as the immediate future goes. UF Rules!
1. Mission Accomplished
When I first envisioned becoming an ocean rower back in 2004, I intended to row around the world. Turns out, that isn’t possible. Small rowboats aren’t allowed through big commercial canals like the Suez and the Panama, and southern capes are dangerous. Also, rowboats are very much at the mercy of winds and currents, which tend to go in circles within each ocean rather than conveniently linking up into a global conveyor belt, and there are too many cases of “you can’t get there from here”. So I settled for rowing across the “Big Three” oceans – Atlantic, Pacific and Indian. With a bit of luck and a following wind, I will very soon accomplish that.
The 2012 row was an afterthought that occurred to me in 2010. I have now thought better of it (after-un-thunked it?).
2. Sedna Solo (Retd)
It became apparent early on in the Indian Ocean voyage that Sedna is past her prime. Water is seeping into previously watertight lockers. The marine ply of her deck needs completely replacing. Not a single piece of electronic equipment is fully functional. Even the electrical system itself is working courtesy only of a few inches of electrical tape and a rhino clip. It would require a huge, costly, and time-consuming overhaul to make her seaworthy again.
3. Immovable Deadline
The point of doing the 2012 row was to arrive in London in time for the 2012 Olympics. It would be touch and go whether I could get there in time. I wouldn’t be able to leave from the US until after the spring storms, and the opening ceremony is on 27th July. Arriving late would defeat the whole purpose, and from what I have read about failed expeditions, tight deadlines make for poor decisions and increased risk. When I thought about it some more, the venture seemed excessively “do or die” – literally.
4. A Pearl In The Storm
When I called my mother on the satphone from the Pacific last year and told her about my bright idea to row the North Atlantic, I thought she would be quite blase about it, having already endured four of my voyages. But there was a resounding silence on the other end of the phone. Then, last Christmas, she gave me a copy of Tori Murden’s book, A Pearl in the Storm: How I Found My Heart in the Middle of the OceanMemoirs) which you may recall from my blog “Beginner’s Guide to Boat-Rolling”. The storm in question took place on the North Atlantic – as, indeed, did “The Perfect Storm ” The crossing from North America to Europe is notoriously rough, cold, and foggy – not to mention chock-full of commercial shipping traffic. It can be done, of course – Harbo and Samuelson did it, as did Blyth and Ridgway, Oliver Hicks, and Maud Fontenoy – but it’s just not nice.
5. Time Out
Globally, there seems to be a sense of accelerating change. I am already wondering how the world will have changed during the 5 months I have been at sea this year. I have sometimes felt a little frustrated at being so far removed from any news sources. It’s hard to keep your finger on the pulse when you’re quite possibly the world’s most remote human being [link to that blog]. I feel the need to be contactable and in contact with what’s happening in these fast-moving times.
Plus, this year, it troubled me when Mum broke her leg and I couldn’t be there. What if it had been something more serious, and it would be three months before I could get to her? She isn’t getting any younger, and if something bad happened I’d never forgive myself.
6. Time For A Change
After 6 years and 15,000 miles, I’ve probably taken this ocean rowing thing about as far as I can – both personally and “professionally”, i.e. in my environmental campaigning.
Personally, my steepest learning curve was during my first crossing – the Atlantic. Since then, each voyage has become progressively deeper inside my comfort zone. I am not learning as much any more. It is time to find myself a new challenge that will stretch me anew.
And “professionally”, I want to shift focus. I’ve done my rowing and I’ve got my sea stories – more than enough to fuel a lifetime of speaking engagements. I want to get more “hands-on” with my campaigning. I plan to spend 2012 tying off the loose ends of my ocean rowing career in a Maisie-Dobbs-like final accounting: finish editing the book, make the film, assemble the multimedia presentation – and then move on to more direct methods of creating positive change in the world. Alongside more focused campaigning, I fully intend to do more expeditions to provide material for blogs, books, and more, but they won’t take me way out into the middle of gargantuan bodies of water any more.
When the legendary British oarsman Sir Steve Redgrave announced his retirement after the 2000 Olympics, he famously said, “If you see me anywhere near a boat, shoot me”… only to come out of retirement to win his fifth gold medal in 2004. So I hesitate to say “never again”. I will merely say, “enough is enough – for now”. But stay tuned – I have a feeling that life is going to be anything but boring for the foreseeable future!
Other Stuff:
1000 blogs! Phewee. Makes me feel quite exhausted just thinking about writing 1,000 blogs! And I suppose that half of them have been written at sea – one for each of my 500 days out here
Quote for the day: “Don’t simply retire from something; have something to retire to.” (Harry Emerson Fosdick)
Sponsored Miles: Nick Perdiew, Alexandra Stevens, Bruce Gervais, Doug Grandt, Louis Girard, Gina Alzate, Jim@Fourth Element, Anthea Maton, Auntie Julie West – thank you for sponsoring miles; also David Cameron, Nick Perdiew, David Swenson, Jim@@ Fourth Element and Chris Lynch who sponsored higher numbers.
Sponsors
Thank you to my supportive and generous sponsors, please click here for a full list.
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by Michael Pollan. And one of my favourite poets is Michael Ondaatje, who also wrote ![""]("http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=rozsavage-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0679745203&camp=217145&creative=399369")
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my book , watching my Atlantic film 
which you may recall from my blog 
