This seems an opportune moment to acknowledge the people who have helped me to accomplish this voyage of 2600 miles from San Francisco to Waikiki. Without their support, encouragement, input and energy this could not have happened. I don’t want this to get like an Oscars acceptance speech, thanking everybody from my first teacher onwards, but I do want to mention a few names.

Mike Klayko (CEO) and Brocade, title sponsors, who have supported me wholeheartedly ever since Mike first set eyes on my boat at the Tech Museum in San Jose in 2007

David White and WebOptimiser, key sponsors, energetic and proactive supporters and web optimisation gurus

Ian Yellin, Analisa Schelle and Maayan Katz of Ogilvy PR, Brocade’s PR people, who got the word out to the media and helped spread the environmental message

Nicole Bilodeau, much-missed force behind last year’s PR blitz, and sole companion on that long drive to the 2007 launch in Crescent City

David Helvarg and the Blue Frontier Campaign, my environmental mentors and oceanic inspiration

Conrad Humphreys and the BLUE Project, making it cool to be blue

Rick Shema, the weatherguy.com, who sent me good weather when possible, and warned me of bad weather when not possible

Daisy, personal assistant, cheery and indefatigable organizer of Hawaii logistics, despite pregnancy and a daunting time difference from the UK

Bill Chayes, documentary producer, sounding board, sympathizer and all-round good guy

Leo Laporte, podcaster, talented interviewer, donor of audiobooks, seeker of sponsorships, and irrepressible cheerleader

Tim Harincar of Sailblogs, long-suffering website designer and tech support, always swift to respond to a crisis

Dr Aenor Sawyer, team medic and Pee Police, diligent in her care of the world’s worst patient

Melinda Griffith, staunch supporter and Pacific paddler

Rich Crow, helicopter engineer, who deigned to exercise his awesome talents on something floating instead of something flying – and sacrificed half his Memorial Day Weekend to allow this row to happen

Bobbie Jennings and the Waikiki Yacht Club, who hosted a magnificent reception party and extended their warmest of welcomes for the duration of my stay

John Kay, ardent supporter, who dealt with the logistics of vehicles and trailers

And of course my mother, Rita Savage. Words are not adequate to describe her contribution. Without her I would not be in Hawaii – or, indeed, anywhere. She is absolutely the best mother a girl could wish for.

Also the untold numbers of friends, supporters, wellwishers, donors, sponsors, commenters, Facebook friends, Tweeters, and podcast listeners who have given freely of their emotional energies and good vibes to help speed me on my way across the ocean.

And last but not least, I feel the need to thank the ocean itself, the great Pacific, for allowing me a safe passage across her waters from California to Hawaii. She has been a tough taskmaster, but one worthy of respect. I have done my bit to try and preserve her riches for future generations, and I would like to think that the success of my journey was her way of acknowledging my good intentions.

Thank you.

[photo: Diamond Head, Waikiki. Courtesy of Phil Uhl]

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At 5.55am local time on 1st September I crossed the line of longitude at 157 50.550′W and stopped rowing, let out a whoop of delight, and beamed a huge grin of satisfaction. I had completed the first leg of my solo row across the Pacific, in a time of 99 days, 8 hours and 55 minutes. And just as I had been for all but a few hours of that time, I was all alone.

The final hours had not quite gone according to plan, but in the final analysis it made no difference. I had still done it, and a warm glow of accomplishment filled me as the waters fill the ocean – all the way to the edges.

I had entered the Molokai Channel the night before, and based on my average rate of progress over the previous few days, it looked as if I would arrive at my personally-designated finish line between 9 and noon local time, and this was the timescale we had communicated to Brocade’s PR people so they could muster the media for a photo opportunity. But we had reckoned without the Funnel Factor.

The Molokai Channel is the stretch of water between Oahu and Molokai, where the winds are funneled between the islands to create a wind tunnel. It was living up to my worst expectations. It was apparently a relatively quiet night – but if that was a quiet night, I wouldn’t like to see a rough one. The wind was blowing 25 knots and my red ensign flag stuck out perpendicularly as if it had a rod running through it. The waves were high and my boat pitched around in the darkness. The stars were bright overhead despite the nearness of the orange streetlights of Oahu – now resolving themselves into individual dots of light – but there was no moon and the deck of my boat was dark.

The battery on my iPod went dead so I switched over to a CD of music that a friend had compiled for me. I sang along to drown out the sound of the roaring wind and give myself courage.

And so the night passed. And so did the Brocade – very rapidly. It became clear that I was going to arrive way earlier than anticipated. I discussed the situation with my weatherguy. I had the option to throw out the sea anchor to slow my progress, but I doubted that this would have much effect in these conditions. And at this final stage of my adventure it went against the grain to try and slow myself down. I wanted to finish in style, not dragging my feet (metaphorically speaking) across the line.

So I suggested that we separate the two aspects of my finish. I would carry on rowing, and cross my line in my own time. Then I would be towed back to Diamond Head to re-row the last half mile for the cameras.

And so it was that I crossed the line the same way that I had crossed the previous 36 degrees of longitude – alone. And it couldn’t have been more perfect or appropriate. The morning was just starting to lighten the eastern horizon and the stars were winking out one by one. The waters were rough but I was rowing strongly. The track playing on the CD – by accident rather than design – was IZ the Hawaiian singer, and his version of Wonderful World/Somewhere Over The Rainbow.

And it was indeed a wonderful world.

After that things started to get hectic, and I relinquished the peace and solitude that I had so enjoyed over the previous 99 days. The towboat from the Waikiki Yacht Club arrived (we had already arranged for this vessel to tow me into the yacht harbour, regardless of what time I finished, so it was quick to scramble) and using my sea anchor line connected me up and towed me back to Diamond Head, a spectacular peak that forms the backdrop to the finish line of the TransPac yacht race. By 10am the media boats had arrived, along with wellwishers and, of course, my mother.

And, just as I had started this leg of my row twice (once last year – which ended in disappointment, and once this year), I also finished it twice, once for me and once for the media. It was well worth the extra effort – the few photos I have seen so far have been fantastic, and have made quite a splash on the front pages of local newspapers. We also shot footage for the documentary – quite a lot of footage, until I was really starting to wonder if I was ever to be allowed to stop rowing.

Eventually we were finished, and the towboat connected me up again. As they towed me towards the skyscrapers of Honolulu I retreated to my cabin for a few final moments alone, bracing myself for the onslaught of sensory input, in marked contrast to the watery world that had started to feel to me like a normal way of life.

The towboat dropped me at the entrance to the yacht harbour and I rowed the last few hundred yards in to the dock at the Waikiki Yacht Club, where I was greeted by cheers, a crowd of people, a phalanx of TV cameras – and a glass of chilled champagne.

I had become the first solo woman to row from California to Hawaii – but that was not what was running through my mind. Records are not important to me. The feeling I had inside was not pride, but a quiet sense of achievement in a job well done, having achieved my goals both environmental and personal. Records can be broken, but that inner sense of satisfaction can never be taken away. I was happy.

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Roz arrives in Hawaii after rowing 100 days across the Pacific Ocean from San Francisco, becoming the first woman ever to accomplish this solo.

THE MORNING AFTER:
On Rick Shema’s Weather Update – do go and have a look – is a good report of yesterday’s events. My personal thanks to Rick and his family for allowing me to stay there in the run-up to Roz’s arrival.

(You can find Rick’s information by clicking here. Rita.)

It is now just after 5pm Hawaiian time and Roz has just called with her latest position. From now on she will call every two hours. Likely to arrive tomorrow some time in the middle of the day.

21 15.140N 157 28.608W 5pm Hawaii time

21 14.389N 157 31.692W 7pm Hawaii time

21 14.719N 157 34 625W 9pm Hawaii tme.
Roz describes the conditions as interesting – rough, windy and dark. However she can see light on Oahu, and things have improved since she started singing along to her CDs. She is taking a rest, but checking in again at 11pm.

21 14.580N 157 36.907W 11pm Hawaii time.
During Roz’s rest she has drifted well – she says she is a good drifter.

21 12.585N 157 47.227W 4.30am Hawaii time.
Roz has gone too far south for the photo opportunity at Diamond Head, but still on target for her objective and arrival.

0900 Hawaiian time September 1st 2008, Roz has crossed the line that she considers to be her finish line. 21 13.096N, 157 47.570W.

Roz is now awaiting a tow boat to take her nearer to Diamond Head for a photo opportunity for the press. Following that she will proceed to the Waikiki Yacht Club for the welcomes, the hugs, celebrations and interviews.

Roz is feeling great – happy, cheerful and not too tired.

Aiming for:Waikiki Yacht Club: 21 17 17N 157 50 31W

There are still some days left of the Atlantic Crossing, and I can’t leave the story unfinished.
Day 101 When Will Roz Arrive?
Day 102a Nearly there
Day 102b Hitch a Ride?
Day 103 She is Nearly here!
Day 104 I DID IT
Day 106 Antigua Paradise

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Countdown to Roz’s Arrival – Possibly Monday September 1.

On Thursday I flew over the Pacific from California to Hawaii for nearly five hours, at a speed of about 500 miles per hour. The ocean appeared to be so vast, so empty, so endless. Involved as I have been with Roz since she departed on May 25th, I still find it incredible that my daughter could choose to row, alone, across that distance. It will be so good to see her again.

On Friday morning talking briefly on the phone, she promised to ring me Saturday morning at 7.30am. Friday afternoon, Dane Golden, cameraman, called me to ask me to be at the Waikiki Yacht Club at 7am Saturday, to be part of Leo Laporte’s thrice weekly phone chat with Roz on Twitlive.tv. Friday evening I sent an email to Roz to tell her not to phone on Saturday morning as “it was not convenient.” That left her puzzled and intrigued. What was I going to be doing at that time of the morning?

At sunrise on Saturday Rick Shema and I faced the cameras at the WYC while Leo waited in California for Roz to call him from the boat. He began his usual chat with her, then brought me in to say hello to Roz. She was astonished to hear me, and then knew the answer to the question. Anybody watching Twitlive.tv on a computer would have seen us. (This is all experimental computer wizardry.)

The air is alive with messages flitting to and fro as we make plans to welcome Roz when she arrives. Roz needs to arrive in daylight hours for filming and photographic opportunities. Rick, the Weatherguy, who has done such an excellent job for Roz on this voyage, will be putting some of the finer details of her approach in his weather report – look for the link to it underneath the Marine Track box.

The plan is that as Roz approaches the Molokai Channel, and Honolulu, I will update her blog every couple of hours so that you, the readers, can be involved. It may even be possible to watch some of the exciting events live on Leo Laporte’s twitlive.tv.
Talking to Roz yesterday morning on the phone, we shared the excitement of knowing that we would be meeting up pretty soon – with a big hug. After our initial welcome, there will be a blur of activity with the media, interviews, filming, greeting friends, champagne, before Roz can indulge in a long hot shower.

I suggest that you check this website from time to time on Sunday and Monday; 10am Hawaii time would be 1pm in California, and 9 pm in the UK.

Position at 2015 HST: 21 25.800′N, 157 00.099′W. (6.15 UCT)

If you have not yet VOTED for ROZ on the AMEX site, please, please do so. time is running out, and we need more votes. See the MEMBERS PROJECT link on this page, sign up as a guest, and vote for Roz’s ocean rowing project. (Please do not vote more than once – it will cancel out your vote.)

Rick shema will be updating the weather forecast for Roz’s area from time to time. Do remember to check his messages on the website. The link is underneath the MarineTrack box on this blog page.

Click here to view Day 100 of the Atlantic Crossing 9 March 2006: The Tide is Coming In – messages for Roz – but it would be another 3 days before she finally arrived, delayed by an obstinate sea anchor.

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This afternoon, as the clouds of a squall passed away, I glanced over my shoulder and saw land – the first land I’ve seen since I rowed past the Farralone Islands just west of San Francisco. That was on May 26th, many miles and several watermakers ago. I was seeing the cloud-shaded outlines of Maui and Molokai, two of the Hawaiian islands that lie between the Big Island and my destination of Oahu.

In the aftermath of the squall the ocean was hushed and still, as often happens for a while after short sharp shower, before the weather recovers itself and the wind starts up again. Today that hush felt like a very special, quiet moment, a time for recollection and reflection before the end of this great adventure. I am now well into the last 100 miles and have just two or three days of solitude remaining before I make landfall.

I will take the quietness of the becalmed ocean into myself and bring it back to land like a secret souvenir. It is the feeling of strength and serenity that keeps me grounded when “real” life gets a bit crazy. Since I first found it – or first created it – during the Atlantic row, it has been there as a resource to draw on when I need it. Sometimes I forget I have it and get caught up in the frenzied busy-ness of everyday life, but then when I start feeling frazzled I remember it, and I feel inside for it and it reminds me of what is really important and what is not.

It is my pearl of peace, forged in the crucible of the ocean, formed around the grit and grind and hardship of my oceanic existence. And each time I focus on it, it acquires another layer of pearlescence – it becomes bigger and stronger and more robust, its patina deepening with age and usage. As it becomes more lustrous it becomes easier to remember it is there, its radiance harder to ignore.

And so tonight, as I look out of my cabin hatch and up at the hazy band of the Milky Way, and the multitude of stars twinkling overhead, and the sparkles of fluorescence as the waves break around my boat, I prepare myself mentally for the return to land, life, and people – and fold my pearl of peace into my heart.

Other stuff:

Position at 2100 29th August HST, 0700 30th August UTC: 21 29.065′N, 156 25.950′W.

As I enter the final hours of my row on Monday or Tuesday next week, we’ll be updating this website on a frequent basis to give you up-to-the-minute news. I will be calling my mother with position updates every couple of hours, and she will be updating this web page so you can follow the adventure in almost real-time. Twitlive.tv is hoping to do a live broadcast of my arrival, so check that out too.

And I hope that, having shared my adventure with me, you will stick around for a few more days to bask in the glory of the celebrations on Hawaii. I’ll be posting blogs post-landfall to tell you what I’m doing and how it feels to be back on dry land.

Click to view Day 99 of the Atlantic Crossing 8 March 2006: The Atlantic has been Crossed. The Atlantic Rowing Race organisers had stipulated the longitude that needed to be crossed to qualify for a crossing of the Atlantic. There were no blogs for the previous two days as Rita had limited access to a computer on Antigua.

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Aloha!
I am honored to be asked by Roz and her support team to provide a blog entry so that Roz can concentrate on rowing to Hawai’i. We can’t wait to greet her in Waikiki!

I have not had the pleasure yet of meeting Roz but from what I have read and heard, she is simply amazing! To even begin to imagine myself embarking on a 3-month solo adventure like this requires more courage than I could ever muster. But I share several insights with her from my limited but life-changing experiences on the sea on a traditional Hawaiian long distance voyaging canoe called Hokule’a (star of gladness), and as a person who cares deeply for the protection of our environment. (Last November Roz was given a tour of Hokule’a.)

Hokule’a is a 62 foot double-hulled sailing canoe designed after the canoes that brought the first people to Hawai’i. It has no engine and no modern navigational instruments. Navigators use the stars, wind, ocean swells, and marine life, including birds, to guide their way. When I read Roz’ blog about birds visiting her more frequently as she approaches Hawai’i, I thought of how traditional Polynesian navigators used birds to help find their way home.

To talk about the who, what, why, and how of Hokule`a would take more space than I should for this blog, so if you are interested in learning more, please go to the website of the Polynesian Voyaging Society. It is a fascinating story and the canoe is a symbol of peace and caring.

The Hawaiian word to convey “caring for” is “malama.” It’s a powerful
word. There are many ways to malama – the environment, each other,
ourselves. And it is important to do that each and every day. I am a member of Malama Hawai’i, a coalition of more than 70 groups and hundreds of
individuals who take care of Hawaii’s land, sea, and people.

Due to our isolation, Hawai’i is home to land and sea life found nowhere else on earth. While there are reefs in other parts of the world that are more abundant, Hawaii’s reefs have a high percentage of unique species. They provide food for people and marine life and allow us to have the surf we ride and the beaches we enjoy. They also protect our coastlines from powerful waves.

But our reefs are in trouble. Land- and ocean-based pollution, invasive species, overfishing, and recreational overuse are major threats. Scientists estimate that our fish populations are 75% less than what they were 100 years ago. Now with climate change and ocean acidification gaining speed, we wonder how much more abuse our reefs can take.

It’s not a time to give up, though. It’s time to act, to make changes in our everyday lifestyles so that we are part of the solution, not the problem. Roz is doing that in her own unique way. She is sending a powerful message across the globe, and more people must listen and take part.

In that spirit, I invite those of you who are in Hawai’i to come to Waikiki Beach on August 31 to enjoy “Sunset on the Beach” celebrating the International Year of the Reef. There will be wonderful Hawaiian music by Leokane Pryor and Friends, visits by paddling great and ocean educator Donna Kahiwaokawailani Kahakui and the crew of JUNK, educational booths, and a feature family film. Festivities start at 5:30 pm, and best of all, it’s FREE! Of course, we are all wishing for favorable winds and waves so that Roz will arrive on the 31st and join us.

For those of you who can’t make it, please go to our website: www.givethereefabreak.org to learn more about caring for coral reefs and how to get involved.

Mahalo and aloha,
Pauline Sato
Coordinator, Malama Hawai’i
[email protected]

Other Stuff:
Position at 2030 27th August HST, 0830 28th August UTC: 21 38.137′N, 155 56.101′W.

Fair progress today, despite a few passing squalls. There was an amazing cloudscape this afternoon – squalls all around, but also blue sky and fluffy cumulus. This is one of my favourite things about the ocean – the big skies.

ETA still uncertain. Touch and go whether it will be Monday or Tuesday next week. If I can finish before 2100 HST on Monday it would mean an
overall time of under 100 days, which would be nice. But I’m not going to bust a gut to do it. I shall remain zen and calm, and will get there when I get there!”

Click here to View Day 96 of the Atlantic Crossing 7 March 2006: A Place in Waiting – where Roz will tie up her boat on arrival.

My sincere apologies to anyone sending a message from the Contact form on this website. While I was preparing to travel to the USA and on to Hawaii, the messages were piling up in the SPAM box. Having just found them, I do not have the time now to answer each one personally. Questions have been sent to Leo, and messages will be sent to Roz. Rita Savage.

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Today I passed the line of longitude of Hilo, which lies on the western side of the Big Island of Hawaii. This marks the start of the final countdown into Waikiki.

When I did the Atlantic Rowing Race, the race organizers decided to call it a valid Atlantic crossing as soon as a crew passed the line of longitude of Barbados – even though the finish line was quite a few miles further west in Antigua. So on that basis you could say I have already rowed from California to Hawaii. but for me it won’t be a successful row until I’ve made landfall on Oahu, my stated destination.

But it feels good to know I am this close to land. I can’t see the Big Island – I am too far north for me to see it from here – but it’s somehow reassuring to know it’s there.

Today I’ve been listening to Jules Verne’s classic, Around The World In Eighty Days – very enjoyable indeed, and it reminded me of yet another of the reasons I wanted to row oceans. I wanted to get a feel for the actual size of the planet. It’s so easy, when you can jet everywhere at 500mph, to not understand how big – or how small – is this finite globe we call home.

On the one hand it seems very small, when you think we have to cram 6 billion of us (and counting) onto the dry bits of it, and find space enough to grow our food – and dispose of our garbage.

On the other hand, it seems very big – when you’re rowing across one of the big blue bits of it at an extremely sedate pace.

And Phileas Fogg is my new hero and role model. No matter what disasters seem to threaten his adventure, he remains utterly imperturbable and calm, with a degree of stiff-upper-lipped-ness that I can only aspire to.

Other stuff:

Position at 2115 27th August HST, 0715 28th August UTC: 21 46.856′N, 155 20.407′W.

The JUNK was hoping to make landfall today. I haven’t heard the latest news, but I hope that they did arrive and that they are enjoying a few well-deserved bevvies! I’m looking forward to seeing them again, just as soon as I get to Waikiki. Good of them to be my warm-up act!

Thanks for all the love and support – via messages, donations, and votes. I can sense the excitement building as I approach Hawaii. I know that some of you have followed my progress every single day, and I thank you for your interest, your loyalty and your words of encouragement. I have no idea what kind of welcome awaits me on dry land, but even if it’s quiet and low-key, I will get great satisfaction to think of my internet audience celebrating on my behalf all around the world.

Thank you!

Day 94 of the Atlantic Crossing – Rita on her way to Antigua in the Caribbean. Click here to view Day 95 of the Atlantic Crossing 6 March 2006: Antigua Calling – first blog from Antigua.

My sincere apologies to anyone sending a message from the Contact form on this website. While I was preparing to travel to the USA and on to Hawaii, the messages were piling up in the SPAM box. Having just found them, I do not have the time now to answer each one personally. Questions have been sent to Leo, and messages will be sent to Roz. Rita Savage.

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I’ve been at sea for over 3 months now, and it’s starting to take its toll on my body. I’ve been fortunate so far – but this week I’ve started to fall apart. Nothing major – fingernails lifting from fingers (apparently due to some fungal thing), aches in the back, sunburned skin – but worst of all is the saltwater rash. It may sound like a trivial complaint, but grown men have been reduced to tears and/or excessive use of painkillers by this undignified ailment.

The best way to avoid the rash dreaded by all ocean-rowers is to bathe in fresh water, which I haven’t been able to do due to the water shortage since my watermaker expired, so I am surprised that the affliction did not strike sooner. I have done my best to stay clean, bathing with salt water, supplemented with wet wipes and liberal application of tea tree oil. These measures probably bought me some spot-free time.

But now it has struck, and has struck with a vengeance.

Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t looked. Out of sight and out of mind. But I knew something was going on, so today I took out the small mirror and used it to take a look at my backside. It was not a pretty sight. For anybody who saw the pictures of James Cracknell’s bottom after he had finished the Atlantic Rowing Race.. Well, I may not be able to beat James on the ergometer, but when it comes to spotty-botty I reckon I could give him a run for his money.

The main problem with this is that it makes it painful to sit on my rowing seat – which is the one thing that I simply can’t avoid doing. So I shall have to grin (or grimace) and bear it. Only a few more days to go, but they may feel like long days indeed..

Other stuff:

Position at 2030 26th August HST, 0730 27th August UTC: 21 53.089′N, 154 43.757′W.

An underwhelming day on the mileage front today. Same number of rowing hours as usual, but it takes the cooperation of the weather to produce impressive leaps forward. At the moment I would say I’m 70% likely to arrive on 1st Sept, 30% likely to arrive later than that. I won’t know for sure until I get there!

Mum sent me all the messages that had come through before she had to leave for the airport. So I probably haven’t seen them all. Thanks for the ones I’ve seen. and for the ones I haven’t!

Helena – fantastic effort on the beach-cleaning front. Well done! Interesting what you said about the number of straws. I wonder if there are reusable ones, or biodegradable ones. What did we used to do before straws were invented? That’s quite an interesting question for most plastic objects – what did we used to do before they were available? After all, we survived for thousands of years before plastic came along!

Thanks also to Sandi (for my ongoing journey from Lands End to JO’G), Olivia in Oxford, and John H – informative as ever!

Click here to view Day 93a of the Atlantic Crossing 3 March: (I) Like a ship Passing in the Night. At last some news from Roz, via a passing ship.

Books Box: Do check the list of recent “reads” mentioned by Roz when talking to Leo Laporte. Available from Audible.com; and also from Amazon if you click on the title.

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In 2002 I went to the Explore weekend seminar at London’s distinguished Royal Geographical Society. I was to be the sponsorship organizer for an archaeological expedition to Peru, going in search of Inca ruins in the cloudforest near Machu Picchu, and the expedition leader had recommended Explore as a great opportunity to learn about the nuts and bolts of planning an expedition.

At the end of the seminar a man came on stage to demonstrate the “Buff” – a tube of thin fabric that could be twisted into all kinds of headgear (beanie, balaclava, skullcap, snood), tied around a ponytail, used as a tourniquet, whatever. And we were all given a free sample.

My faithful Buff then traveled with me the length and breadth of Peru, up mountains and down gorges. It came with me across the Atlantic, holding my baseball hat on my head on the windier days. And now it is here with me on the Pacific, still going strong.

But I’d never really LOOKED at it until the other day. It was just a garment, not something to be examined. But it caught my eye, dangling from a line in the roof of my cabin, while I was eating my dinner. And what did I see when I looked at the grey repeat pattern of the fabric?

Waikiki Beach.

Yes, the design on my well-worn Buff shows an illustrated map of my present destination. As well as the beach, it shows the Outrigger Canoe Club, Moana Hotel, Waikiki Tavern (sounds promising!), Kalakaua Avenue and the Royal Hawaiian Hotel.

It seems just a little bit spooky.

And this seems like a good opportunity to say Aloha to Bobbie Jennings and the other wonderful people at the Waikiki Yacht Club. I was introduced to them by my friend Adrian Flanagan, who had to pull in there for impromptu repairs during his solo vertical circumnavigation of the world a couple of years ago. I gave a presentation there last November, and was given the warmest of welcomes. I know they have been working with my weatherguy, Rick Shema, in preparation for my arrival, and I’d like to say a big thank you, and that I can’t wait to be back at the WYC.

And the Peruvian expedition? Yes, we did find our Inca ruins!

Other stuff:

Position at 2030 25th August HST, 0730 26th August UTC: 21 57.569′N, 154 14.907′W.

Today I crossed another line of longitude – and one of latitude. The Waikiki Yacht Club lies at 21 17.250′N, 157 50.550′W, so I am gradually homing in. Michael has kindly plotted my position, plus that of the JUNK and the WYC. Looks like I am following exactly in their wake! Very exciting to see how close I am to Hawaii. I am still using my Tomtom for navigation, but it hasn’t yet found a road for me to follow to the Waikiki Yacht Club.

Meanwhile, my mother is homing in on Hawaii too. Today she flew from the UK to San Francisco. She spends a couple of days there before flying to Honolulu on the 28th to await my arrival.

More birds, more tweeting today. They seem to like traveling in groups of 5, and they circle vertically, as if they were on an invisible ferris wheel – very entertaining. I’ve been getting a crick in my neck, trying to watch them while not letting up at the oars!

Thank you to all the people who have written in, especially: Mikala – afraid I won’t be in Hawaii for the Molokai race at the end of September – duty calls on the mainland – but I will be back January-March next year. I hope to see you very soon! John H – waves up to 25 feet in the Molokai Channel? Not sure I wanted to know that! Hi also to Milly, Ami, Margo and Greg., Sandy, Nancy and Cathy.

And if you haven’t yet voted in the Amex Members’ Project – please, please, please do so. You don’t have to be an Amex cardholder – you can register as a guest. It won’t cost you a penny, and could seriously help me out – and help me spread the message about the oceans. Thank you!

Click here to view Day 93 of the Atlantic Crossing 3 March 2006: Whether the weather helps or not.

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.Not saying I’ve missed these things, because it is just a different existence out here – but they are all things I enjoy that I haven’t been able to do for over three months now: And now that the end of my voyage is drawing near, I am starting to think about my “other” life again – my life on dry land.

– bathing in fresh, not salt, water – washing my hair – getting dressed up and putting on makeup – eating out – having a drink with friends – walking – trees – massage – freedom to do a lot more things than can be done alone on a small boat – NOT rowing – curling up in a comfortable chair with a good book – the internet – emailing my friends – not just my team – people – chance meetings – serendipity – using my Macbook rather than a PC – my coffee-shop-and-journal therapy sessions – going to see a movie (is “Sex and the City” still showing anywhere? I left a week before the premier!) – a glass of something nice – champagne (Veuve Clicquot), wine (chenin blanc or pinot noir), beer (English) or margarita (straight up with salt) – depending on mood – and, of course, caramel lattes!

I am not wishing my time away (much), but the ocean is a tough environment and I am looking forward to being somewhere where the sun is high and the living is easy (or at least easier).

Other stuff:

Position at 1945 24th August HST, 0545 25th August UTC: 22 01.106′N, 153 46.358′W.

Today has been a bit poor on the mileage. The wind is good now, but for most of the day it has been very variable due to squalls. And it was very light last night – normally I would expect to make about 9′ of longitude overnight, but last night I only got 4′, so that was not a flying start to the day.

But the weather varies quite a bit from day to day, so with a bit of luck tomorrow will be an improvement. But we may now be looking at Sept 1 or 2 rather than August 31. It doesn’t matter too much one way or another – so long as I get there safe and sound.

Thanks to Karen and Megan for the kind donations – much appreciated, and Karen, I promise I will put it towards my day of massage and pampering. I can’t wait!

To Texino and anyone else who is concerned about the safety of my arrival in Hawaii: please don’t worry! It will be, errr, challenging, but my weatherguy and I (and various other helpful people, including the wonderful folks at the Waikiki Yacht Club) are all on the case and will make sure that my landfall is as safe as possible. Worry ye not! That’s OUR job!

And thanks for all the other lovely messages of support too. Each and every one is read and appreciated.

Click here to view Day 92 of the Atlantic Crossing 2 March 2006: Has she or hasn’t she? About drinking ballast water.
(Tomorrow these details will be rather late in the day as I am travelling to San Francisco from the UK – Rita.)

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Ninety days already. Or ninety days – seems like forever! I’m not sure which I feel. On the one hand, now that I am well into my daily routine, weeks seem to whizz by. But when I think back to my departure under the Golden Gate Bridge at midnight on May 24, it seems like forever ago.

And now the end is drawing near. But how near? That is becoming an interesting question.

My ETA – with the emphasis on the E – is still August 31. It had started to slip towards September 1, but today has been a good day with conditions helping me along towards a better-than-average daily mileage. It would be nice to finish in under 100 days. But still anything could happen.

When, on the Atlantic, my satphone stopped working on Day 79 severing all communication with land, I thought I had just a couple more weeks to go. Those two weeks ended up taking me nearly a month. The wind dropped away to nothing and I slogged along in relentless heat for what felt like an eternity – about ten days. It felt like I would never get to Antigua. My poor mother was waiting there for about 10 days before I eventually showed up.

And one of the other crews rowing the Atlantic got within 180 miles of the finish (the total crossing is about 3,000 miles) when they capsized. Their boat refused to self-right and they had to be rescued. So near and yet so far. On this Pacific row I still have to face the dangers of the infamous Molokai Channel, where wind speeds of 30 knots are fairly typical. We are preparing and planning carefully, but it will be challenging nonetheless, and is increasingly on my mind.

And then there is the matter of actually hitting Hawaii. The winds are different every day, and it is rarely easy to make a straight course. Up a bit, down a bit, constantly adjusting my latitude, because if I miss the islands. well, missing the champagne celebrations would be the least of my worries.

So I now know better than to make any assumptions about when or if I will arrive safely. This is still far from being a done deal, and I won’t truly relax until I have my feet firmly planted on dry land. And if that dry land happens to be in Waikiki, and happens to be on August 31, then that is a bonus.

Other stuff:

Position at 2100 22nd August HST, 0700 23rd August UTC: 22 17.290′N, 152 46.041′W.

Hi to Karen Morss (am just about surviving lemon-less, but looking forward to a citrus resupply!), Nave, Will, Holly H, and all the regulars.

And thanks to Texino for his kind words – seems they are not easily won!

And a special thank you to Joan in Atlanta, who posted this lovely comment: I’d like to suggest that all the readers who wish they could be in Hawaii for the landing celebration hit that Donation link above and send along the monetary equivalent of the bottle of champagne or round of drinks you’d happily buy if you could be there. A generous bit of funding for the next leg of the crossing is the best congratulatory gift we could give. I’m sending along a magnum donation.

If you live in the UK and wish to make a contribution to Roz and don’t wish to use Paypal, send a message from the Contact area of this website for details

Click here to view Day 90 of the Atlantic Crossing 28 February 2006: Stripped Down – a recounting of all the items that Roz has lost en route.

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I aspire to be happy, healthy, and wise. I think many of us do. And for me, once I’d figured out that my old materialistic lifestyle was not making me especially happy, I needed to find a new set of values. These were pretty fundamental questions I was asking, a major change of life direction.

I had a wonderful month in early 2004 when I retreated to a small cottage on the west coast of Ireland for a period of reading and reflection. When I first decided to row across oceans, one of my hopes was that the solitude would give me a further opportunity to think about the meaning of life, the universe, and everything.

To an extent my hopes were fulfilled on the Atlantic – although I spent too much time feeling sorry for myself, which is not conducive to thinking big or constructive thoughts.

This time around has been more successful – partly because I have wasted less mental energy on self-pity. Another factor has doubtless been the wonderful audiobooks donated by Audible.com via Leo Laporte. It was a random selection – his choice rather than mine – but it has been an excellent assortment and some of the books have stretched my mind in new directions. Some people – like Henry David Thoreau on Walden Pond – may be able to go into the wilderness and arrive independently at fundamental truths, but personally I find it helpful to get some input from outside sources to stimulate the thought processes.

I’ve come to regard my little rowboat as my own personal floating nun’s cell – a place for quiet contemplation. (In fact my existence generally has been quite nun-like: Poverty and chastity are pretty easy out here – but I’m afraid obedience is not my strong suit, no matter where I am!)

I realize I’m very lucky to have this opportunity to ponder and reflect – but I think it’s possible, given enough determination, for most people to find opportunities for reflection. I’ve got a friend who runs a business and has two young children, and she manages to find the time to go away on retreats to pursue Journeywork (a process of self exploration).

Another option is to find a few minutes each day to try and put aside all the more mundane tasks and preoccupations that all too easily take over everyday life, and focus on questions of a more spiritual nature.

Or my favourite way – which I am sorely missing at the moment – is to retreat to a coffee shop with my journal to spend some time thinking and writing. And having a caramel latte and a bran muffin. Somehow the indulgence seems justified by it being part of my spiritual ritual. Well, that’s my excuse, anyway!

I guess that many people just don’t feel the need to do such things. But my perception is that a lot of people have feelings of unhappiness, isolation, dissatisfaction or dis-ease, which may well be rooted in having neglected the spiritual side of their life. Speaking from personal experience, I can say that when I started to think about life more deeply, I started to feel more connected to other people, and this in turn brought me greater energy, happiness, and a sense of purpose.

And isn’t that what, ultimately, we all want?

Other stuff:

Position at 2100 21st August HST, 0700 22nd August UTC: 22 23.975′N, 152 05.886′W.

I’ve been keeping a close eye on my progress across the degrees of latitude. Since I crossed 130W I’ve been averaging about 1.7 days to cross one degree. But the last 3 degrees have taken 2 days each. So my ETA in Hawaii may slip back a day – but with weather, anything can happen, good or bad. So we’ll just wait and see.

The wind really kicked up late this afternoon, which made for some character-building rowing after it got dark. The stars were hidden by clouds and the moon doesn’t rise for a couple more hours. Imagine being tossed around on mountainous seas when you can’t see a thing apart from the red glow of the compass. Quite glad to be in my cabin now!

Thanks for the great messages – especially Sandi, John, Chris, Eric, Roger et al.

Thanks to Ken for the info about Iridium satellites. I would have hoped, if I am seeing the sun reflecting off satellites, that my reception might be better. It seems to be getting worse as I get closer to Hawaii.

Interesting comment from Roger about the need for some more masculine reusable grocery bags. Not sure what to suggest for that. Maybe the Chico bags, which scrunch up so small that nobody knows you are carrying them at all? Or maybe you just need to be more secure in your masculinity/eco-friendliness. Say all together now: I’m green and I’m proud!

Click here to view Day 89 of the Atlantic Crossing 27 February 2006: Will She or Won’t She? – could Roz reach Antigua in less than 100 days?

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Today I saw five birds, all circling my boat at the same time. This in itself was unusual – I often see a solitary bird, sometimes two, but this was positively a crowd.

And the other unusual thing was that they were tweeting to each other. Then, later on, I saw another bird, on its own, and it was tweeting too.

This may not sound like a big deal, but all the birds I have seen on my crossing have circled my boat in silence. Not a tweet, a chirrup, nor a trill. And now I remember it was the same on the Atlantic – the birds in mid-ocean were mute, and it was only when I was nearing Antigua that they became more chatty.

I have no idea why this should be, but that’s how it is. And it’s exciting to get this first sign that I am nearing land. Today I crossed 153 degrees West. My chart of the Hawaiian islands starts at 155 degrees West, so soon I will be able to start plotting my position as I row past the Big Island and Maui, and approach the Molokai Channel that will lead me to Waikiki on the southern coast of Oahu.

The end isn’t yet in sight, and many oarstrokes still lie between me and Hawaii, but I am starting to sense the nearness of my goal. It’s been a long time coming.

Other stuff:

Position at 2100 23rd August HST, 0700 24th August UTC, 22 09.406′N, 153 19.723′W.

Thanks for the messages. Special mentions to: Sarah Outen- have a great time in Iceland. Sounds like the boat is coming on apace. Can’t wait to see it – and you! Nancy Wilhelms – thank you so much for the donation. A thousand blessings on you and yours! Karen Morss – I listened out, and yes, I think I heard you cheering me on! Thanks for spreading the word among the Lemon Ladies about voting in the Amex awards. You’re a star – and a great inspiration! Bob Proctor – I’d be really interested to see my list of daily mileages. Do you have them in a spreadsheet? If so, I wonder if you could send it to [email protected] Annie – thanks for the Emerson quote. It was too long for the comments box, so it got cut short. Can you tell me which book it was from and I will order it up as an audiobook for my next row! Sharon et al – much love to you all! Sandi – so I’m nearly in Scotland?! Thanks for the little history lesson on Lindisfarne too! Katharine – 6 months before I set out again from Hawaii. Time to wait out the winter storms, refurbish the boat, catch up with friends, learn about Hawaiian culture, and fatten up! Helene – sticktoitiveness now joins justdoitiveness as new words created by my voyage! Also Mike D, Karyn, CabSav Lane, Duane, Dana, Erin, John H, Roger, Margo, Sindy, and Allen. For those people who don’t already have all the reusable grocery bags they need, we are producing bags with the Savage logo on them, and the slogan “If we pull together, we can make a world of difference”. They are made from recycled plastic, and are themselves recyclable. There has been a long lead time on them, but they should be available within the next few weeks, if you can hold out that long to save the world!

Click here to view Day 91 of the Atlantic Crossing 1 March 2006 Antigua Here we Come – getting nearer.

If you have not yet voted for Roz, please do – go to the Members Project box on the right and sign up as a guest – won’t cost you anything, and could make a BIG difference to Roz and the film project. (But please don’t vote more than once – it will be cancelled out.)

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A few days ago Erin A asked this question: Please share more of your wisdom on how you have trained your mind to deal with boredom, fear and loneliness. We all know it is all in the mind but then that is no easy task for everyone.

I don’t specifically train my mind in advance of my rows, but I do have a few tricks I’ve figured out during my time on the ocean. I’ve used them on dry land as well, and they work for me. I hope they work for you too!

I’ll take it in two sections. First I’ll talk about a few possible ways to deal with fear, loneliness, and negative emotions generally. Then I’ll talk about boredom – particularly in relation to physical exercise.

Fear, Loneliness, and Other Negative Emotions

– I remind myself “I am not my thoughts”. We all have those little negative voices that pop up in our heads – but they are not who we are. They are just voices – maybe echoes of people from our past, or our own self-doubts. They will always be there, but we can choose whether or not to listen to them. I try to discipline myself to acknowledge them, say to them, “Thanks for sharing”, and then ignore them if they do not serve me well.

– Lighten your eyes. When we get stressed or emotional, we tend to tense the muscles in our faces. If you make a deliberate effort to unwrinkle your forehead and relax your eyes, you’ll find that you feel a lot less anxious. Combine this with some deep breaths, and you’ll be well on your way to recovering from your moment of stress. There is a strong connection between body and mind, and you can calm your mind by first calming your body.

– Repeat a mantra. Think of something positive, and focus on it – maybe you’ve been in a worse situation before, and survived it. So tell yourself “I can do this, I can do this, I KNOW I can do this.” If you can say it out loud, even better – it helps get the worry out of your head and into the open. Easy for me to talk to myself in mid-Pacific, not so easy in a job interview!

– Step outside yourself. You may be feeling anxious on the inside, but try to see yourself from the outside for a moment, like a character in a book or a movie. Imagine how that character would cope with this situation – especially if they are the hero of the tale. Describe to yourself how you are handling it – calmly, with panache, courageously, whatever. This really helps you to disengage from those negative emotions and see your situation clearly.

– Know that it will pass. Everything does!

Boredom

We’ve all had those moments (haven’t we?!) in the gym or out on a run, when we feel an overwhelming urge to stop. It’s not the physical exhaustion that gets to us. It’s the boredom. Here are some tricks I’ve found helpful:

– Remind yourself why you’re doing it. Ask yourself why, and KEEP asking yourself why until you get to a really, really big reason why it matters that you do this. For example, I am doing this because I have to do this rowing shift. Why? So I can reach my target for the day. Why? So I can get to Hawaii. Why? So I can talk to the newspapers. Why? So I can talk about my environmental message. Why? So I can save the world! I’m exaggerating here, but you get the idea.

– Break it down into smaller sections. If I’m in the gym and bored with cardio, instead of doing 60 mins of nonstop cardio, I’ll do 15 mins and then some quick weights, and repeat 4 times. It breaks it up and if you do light weights, fast reps, you’ll keep your heart rate up. If you’re out for a run then concentrate on getting to a particular landmark. On my boat, I might take a 5-minute break in the middle of a 2-hour shift, usually to do a little chore that needs doing anyway, to give myself a mental break.

– Pretend that you’re closer to the end than you actually are. Say for example I’ve got 45 mins of a rowing shift to go. I’ll tell myself just to do another half hour. Then when I get to the end of the half hour I think, “Well, only 15 mins and I’ll have done the full shift. So I may as well carry on – I’m so close.” So you kid yourself into doing just a bit more, just a bit more – until eventually you find you’ve done the whole thing.

– Focus on something else. I’ll tell myself to focus on the audiobook I’m listening to, and promise not to look at my watch again until it gets to Chapter Ten, or until a particular character is mentioned again. In the gym you could focus on the music, or a TV programme. If you’re out for a run concentrate on the scenery around you.

– Think about how you’ll feel if you quit – shame, guilt, disappointment – compared with how you’ll feel if you do what you set out to do – pride, self-respect, accomplishment. Which feelings would you rather carry around with you for the rest of the day?

And if all else fails, and you fall short, go easy on yourself. You can’t do better than your best – and some days that best is going to be better than others. You’re only human. Regret, shame and guilt are all destructive feelings – to your body as well as your mind. So don’t give them headspace.

Ancient Chinese proverb say: Fall down 9 times, get up 10. Forgive yourself, let it go, and try again tomorrow.

Other stuff:

Position at 2030 on 20th August HST, 0430 21st August UTC: 22 25.020′N, 151 30.273′W.

Thanks for all the great messages. Mum passes on your comments and emails submitted via the site. I’m not going to say all my usual hellos – it’s a very hostile, squally night tonight and I’m bouncing around like crazy in my cramped little cabin. Time to get into my bunk before either the laptop or I come to harm!

Do remember to follow the voyage of JUNK as they head towards Hawaii.

Click here to view another of Rita’s blogs from the time after Roz was no longer able to send messages. The Purple Dot Following Roz’s movements on the Atlantic Rowing Race website.

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Last year I gave a presentation at a boys’ school in Virginia – although to call Woodberry Forest a school is a bit like calling the Pacific a puddle. It was a magnificent school – gorgeous buildings situated in rolling green parkland. I got to stay in a beautifully appointed guest house. The boys were polite, interested, fun. But best of all I came away feeling I had made some friends – particularly two of the teachers, who just happen to be married to each other.

Earlier this year those two teachers and I got together again in California and as we were driving along I-280 Michael gave a fascinating description of the San Andreas fault, visible to the left of the highway. It was then that I decided I was going to ask him to write something about the land that lies hidden far beneath the Pacific – the ocean bed. Here is what he had to say. I found it fascinating, and I hope you enjoy it too. It certainly adds an extra dimension – of time and geology – to my journey.

When my friend Roz first asked if I would be willing to write an essay about the geologic story that (quite literally) underlies her journey across the Pacific, my first reaction was probably very similar to that of many people who are reading this: She’s crossing the Pacific OCEAN! After departing the California coast, Roz won’t see another rock until she makes landfall in Hawaii. That doesn’t exactly make for an engrossing geologic narrative. But Roz was persistent (what a surprise!) and, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that geology does provide an interesting and unique perspective on her Pacific voyage. What follows is a rough geological “sea log” of the first leg of this remarkable adventure.

Not long after paddling out of San Francisco Bay, Roz crossed a major tectonic feature, the San Andreas Fault – a *transform* plate boundary along which the North American and Pacific plates slide past one another. The movement along this boundary is primarily responsible for the numerous earthquakes that residents of California are all too familiar with. There are two other types of plate boundaries-*dive

Michael Follo is a science teacher at Woodberry Forest School in Virginia. He has a Ph.D. in geology from Harvard University, and has taught at the college and secondary school level for the past 23 years. He has conducted geologic fieldwork in Europe, North America, and Hawai’i-but, unlike Roz, nowhere in between.

Other stuff:

Position as at 2100 19th August HST, 0700 20th August UTC: 22 26.238′N, 151 00.378′W.

It is a beautiful night tonight. As I rowed along after sunset, waiting for the moon to rise, the deck of my boat lit up and looked up at the sky to see a shooting star. I’d never seen one so bright – it really was like a camera flash going off in the darkness of the night.

Thanks for all the great messages. Special hellos to: Brian – have a great (and safe) time mountain-climbing in Pakistan. Hope to see you in London in November. Andy, Emer, Ailis, Saoirse and Caoimhe – so nice to know you are keeping an eye on the blog. Hope you’re settling into your not-so-new home. Lots of love to all. George – thanks for the quote. I used to live in the same village as Sir Peter Blake’s family – I met his widow and son. Lovely people – wish I’d met the man himself, but I was too late. John, Erin – great questions. Will respond in future blogs.

And finally. from George van der Meeuwen in New Zealand: There is a legend that says: On the occasion of a great forest fire, all the animals sought to escape. Only one little hummingbird was gathering a few drops of water from the river and flying high to drop them on the fire. They asked the hummingbird what use it was to do so little? The hummingbird answered – ‘If everyone were to do just a little!’

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When I was on board the JUNK the other night I talked with Marcus and Joel about plastic pollution – of course. Hard not to, when the raft beneath our feet was a monument to the issue, being kept afloat by 10,000 plastic bottles lashed together in cargo netting.

And we agreed that we are not against plastics per se. Plastics have many valuable uses – apart from keeping rafts afloat, plastic is used for many other things that could not easily be substituted with any other material. Looking around the Brocade, I have plastic waterproof bags, Pelican cases, sea anchor buoy, buckets, seed sprouter, food containers and most of my electronics.

No, what we are against is not the use of plastic, it’s the ABuse of plastic, particularly for items that are intended to be disposable. According to the printed cotton grocery bag the JUNK guys gave me, over one million plastic bags are used PER MINUTE world-wide. And it can take over 300 years for them to break down. That leads to some scary arithmetic if you work out how many billions or trillions of plastic bags we could end up with.

As a parallel example, I was working in Information Technology in the run-up to the year 2000, and we were all obsessed with the so-called Millennium Bug. The fear was that all computer-based systems would grind to a halt thinking that 00 signified 1900 rather than 2000. We cursed the short-sighted predecessors who had somehow overlooked the fact that the year 2000 would inevitably arrive – or at least had counted on it not arriving until they were safely retired.

And yet are we not now guilty of similar short-sightedness if we think that we can carry on producing plastic goods indefinitely, and not eventually be up to our eyes in cast-off plastics? Will future generations look back at our era and curse us for our short-sighted stupidity?

Unfortunately democracy does not encourage long-term thinking at governmental level. Plastics (like cars) are so convenient, and so integrated a part of our lives – no politician who wanted to get elected is likely take a tough stand on widespread reduction of plastic usage.

So action has to start at the grassroots level. We all need to do our bit to make a difference – and plastic bags and plastic water bottles are a good place to start. Rather than relying on recycling, let’s REDUCE the amount of plastic being generated – a much better solution with a smaller carbon footprint and overall lower environmental impact. Get your re-usable grocery bags (organic cotton or bags made from recycled plastic are best) and your water filter. And do your bit to save this wonderful planet of ours.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: If we pull together, we can make a world of difference!

Other stuff:

Last chance to get me into the top 25 for the AMEX list! I need to make the shortlist to have a chance of qualifying for a share of the funds – and further funding is crucial to the second leg of my Pacific row, and the environmental documentary based on my adventure. Having just said democracy is flawed. VOTE FOR ME PLEASE!!

Position at 2100 18th August HST, 0700 19th August UTC: 22 26.722′N, 150 31.022′W.

A hot and calm day today – not conducive to high mileage, but I kept plugging away, fuelled by regular bribes of Larabars and wild salmon jerky. For a while this afternoon there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and over the calm seas I could see all the way to the horizon. Blue above, blue below. The ocean looked like a very big place.

Well done to Team GB for a promising start to the Olympics. Mum sent me an update a few days ago to say we were third in the medals table. Fantastic! Congrats to all the athletes – especially the rowers.

Thank you for all the messages – and for the donations that keep on trickling in. All very much appreciated. You are kind, wonderful and generous people!

Thanks especially to Sandi for my virtual trip from Lands End to John O’Groats. So I’m in the Peak District now? I must drop in on my friend Penny in Hathersage! I love the moors around there – thank you for conjuring up happy memories of long rambles and country pubs!

Thanks, too, to John H for the links to the following articles. The oceans really are in trouble. Quite apart from the plastic pollution, see what else is happening.

*Ocean ‘dead zones’ expanding worldwide: study*

WASHINGTON (AFP) – Oceanic “dead zones” where marine life cannot survive have been steadily increasing over the past five decades and now encompass 400 coastal areas of the world, a US-Swedish study.

The number of these areas, in which aquatic ecosystems disappear due to lack of oxygen in the water, have “approximately doubled each decade since the 1960s,” said the study in the journal Science on Friday.

SAN JUAN, Puerto Rico – A maroon-striped marauder with venomous spikes is rapidly multiplying in the Caribbean’s warm waters and even off the East Coast – swallowing native species, stinging divers and generally wreaking havoc on an ecologically delicate region.

The red lionfish, a tropical native of the Indian and Pacific oceans that probably escaped from a Florida fish tank, is showing up everywhere – from the coasts of Cuba and Hispaniola to Little Cayman’s pristine Bloody Bay Wall, one of the region’s prime destinations for divers.

Wherever it appears, the adaptable predator corners fish and crustaceans up to half its size with its billowy fins and sucks them down in one violent gulp.

If you live in the UK and wish to make a contribution to Roz and don’t wish to use Paypal, send a message from the Contact area of this website for details

Do look at the Books box Roz’s latest recommendation is there, amongst many other books: Titus Groan by Mervyn Peake – or purchase it from Audible.com

Day 86 of the Atlantic Crossing, 26 February 2006: No news, no blog.

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If I had a dollar (or pound) for every time I’ve been asked if I’ve read The Life of Pi, I wouldn’t be needing to ask you to vote for me in the Amex grants scheme (hint!).

But although I had read it, it was quite a while ago and at the time I didn’t really GET it. Today I’ve been listening to it as an audiobook, and if I was ever going to get it, it would be today..

The hero, Pi, finds himself on a lifeboat on the Pacific with only a tiger called Richard Parker for company. His lifeboat is almost exactly the same size as the Brocade, so as I’ve been rowing along and listening to his life as a castaway, his life has seemed very close to mine (although fortunately the only animals I have on board are of the stuffed variety). There is mention of sea anchors and water rationing. He even encounters a garbage patch.

Not surprisingly, the book really made sense to me today. The way author Yann Martel described the ocean and the skies really struck a chord – but even closer to home were the descriptions of boredom and terror, excitement and despair, often coming almost at the same time. There is even a line in the book that says, “The Pacific is no place for rowers”!!

But my favourite passage is Chapter 56 (I think), which starts:

I must say a word about fear. It is life’s only true opponent. Only fear can defeat life. It is a clever, treacherous adversary, how well I know.

Wise words, of which there are many in this intriguing book. I’m very glad to have given it a second try.

Other stuff:

Position at 2100 17th August HST, 0700 18th August UTC: 22 38.295′N, 150 02.297′W.

It has been a very pleasant day’s rowing – a few squalls and a brisk cool breeze, but they are a welcome relief from the hot tropical sun. The Life of Pi has occupied my mind, and was the perfect length to accompany a day’s rowing. Whenever I find myself getting bored or impatient with rowing, I tell myself to “Go into the book” and refocus my attention on the story and away from the boredom. Or I promise myself I won’t look at my watch until the end of the next chapter. It’s all in the mind.

And I have crossed 150 degrees West – woohoooo!!!! Waikiki lies just this side of 158 degrees. I am now into the last 500 nautical miles. Too soon to say that the end is in sight, but it’s definitely drawing nearer.

Yesterday I switched over to Hawaii Standard Time, and got rather caught out when the sun abruptly set at 1830 and I hadn’t even started getting my dinner ready. Today I’ve succeeded in getting the hang of the new time zone. I was up at 0500 to start rowing at 0530 to make the most of daylight hours. At the time of drafting this blog it’s 1830 and I’m just sitting down to my dinner (a rather grand way of saying: I’m sitting in my cabin typing this while I wait for my freeze-dried food to rehydrate in boiled water). Then a couple more hours under a nearly full moon, and that should be a fine end to a very satisfactory day.

Please try to vote on the AMEX project if you have not yet done so. BUT please don’t vote more than once! We still need to push the total a bit higher.
It is easy to vote:
1. Go to the Members Project box on the right, click on Additional Information.
2. Half way down the right hand column is the invitation to be a guest – sign up.
3. Go to top right of the page and vote.
We appreciate your help, Rita Savage.

Purchase the Life of Pi from Amazon or from Audible.com

Follow the voyage of JUNK as they head towards Hawaii.

Click here to view Day 85 of the Atlantic Crossing 24 February 2006: Click the Links – Rita trying to keep people interested when there is no news from Roz.

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Following on from yesterday’s blog about my aft cabin, here’s the detail about the “living area” – which could best be described as compact. Or maybe “bijou” in real-estate speak.

Between the foot of my bunk and the exit hatch to the cockpit I have just about 20 inches of space. At this end of the cabin the ceiling is just high enough for me to sit upright, although due to unfortunate placement of my EPIRB emergency beacon I have to hold my neck cricked forwards while I am sitting writing this blog. To be remedied before the next stage.

On one side (pictured) I have the control panel and a set of wall pockets, and a fair amount of stuff on the cabin floor. On the control panel, from the top and going down the middle: Battery monitor Chartplotter (not currently in use as the GPS antenna isn’t working) VHF radio (stopped working about a month ago – I’m now relying on the handhelf VHF) Stereo Then on the left, the two boxes of the Sea-Me – a radar enhancer which also tells me when another vessel is in the vicinity with a flashing red light and an alarm And on the right a switch panel which controls various things including the watermaker (not working)

You can also see in this picture a mug holder (being used for my jar of tahini, which I mix with beansprouts and nuts for lunch) and a stainless steel mug. Sprouting above them is the bendy arm of a small halogen light – the main light source in the cabin, by which I am typing this.

Below the control panel is a switch box which controls the flow of power from solar panels to charge controllers to batteries, so that if any component of this system fails I can route the electricity around the defective unit.

The wall pockets hold various items, including the Flip Marker I use on the whiteboard to cross out each line of longitude as I cross it. Plus pens, pencils, WD-40 and the day’s ration of Larabars.

On the cabin floor beneath has accumulated quite a pile of stuff. It’s not good practice to have it unstowed – if I capsized all these items would fly around and make an awful mess (and I speak from experience) but conditions at the moment mean that capsize is unlikely, so I’m taking the risk for the sake of convenience. In this general area I have: Video camera – handheld (in a waterproof case) Tomtom GPS (in a waterproof case) Satphone (in Pelican case) Inverter (converts DC current to AC current for some rechargeable items) Main recording deck for video cameras attached to boat (not currently working) Wet wipes in a ziplock bag Bag Balm Chart protractor Eyeglasses Notebook Kayak bag containing various dry food items – mixed nuts, tamari sunflower seeds and almonds, nama shoyu sauce, Larabars, buckwheat crackers, jerky etc.

Beneath the hatch is secured a small case containing knives, forks and spoons. Above the hatch are a fire extinguisher, diving knife, and stereo speakers.

On the other side of the hatch is my “dressing table” – a washbag fixed to the bulkhead, containing toothbrush, toothpaste, moisturizer, hand cream, lip salve, and various things that are supposed to help alleviate the spots caused by prolonged exposure to salt water. Also a very small mirror that allows inspection of aforementioned spots (which are generally in places not easily seen but all too keenly felt), weatherbeaten face, unwashed hair etc. This mirror is not my friend.

And that’s more or less it. Generally in my little world I can put my hand on anything as I need it. A place for everything, and everything in its place. Except for the things that aren’t.

Other stuff:

Position at 2130 16th August HST, 0730 17th August UTC: 22 46.711′N, 149 31.091′W.

If you haven’t yet voted in the Amex grants then please do. If I don’t place in the top 25 by the 19th then I don’t make it onto the shortlist. and that has to be the top 25 overall, not just the top 25 in the environmental section. Every vote counts – so please pass the news on to all your friends. Let’s go viral!

Thanks for all the comments and messages. Always good to hear from you.

Special hello to Ruth Crewe (Crewe surely a great name for a rower!) and all at my old club OUWLRC.

Martine – thanks for your generous words, but au contraire, YOU inspire ME! You have coped with so much, really tough stuff, and you just keep on going. I have it easy.

Caroline – hope you enjoyed your retreat as much as I did, and got out of it whatever it was that you went in search of. see you in the UK in November, I hope!

I hear from Mum that the JUNK Males put up a great blog about our Great Pacific Get-Together. I’m really looking forward to seeing it. Am still basking in the good memories of the encounter – and looking forward to catching up with the guys when I get to Hawaii.!

Click here to view 23 February 2006 After missing one day, Rita wrote “Substitute Again.”

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The next part of my series on what lies where on board the Brocade, today we get to the aft cabin. If the rowing seat is my place of work, then this is my home. I’ve even got into the habit of calling out, “Honey, I’m home!” when I come in from the final rowing shift of the day and take my baseball hat off. Sad, I know, but it makes me smile.

My drawing isn’t quite to scale. The bunk is actually a bit wider – a whole 18 inches or so. So the spaces alongside it are correspondingly narrower and the various wall pouches press hard against the two leecloths (actually the webbing that you use to stop stuff falling out of the tailgate of a pickup truck) that run down either side of my bunk.

Anyway, apologies aside, here we go.

1. The control panel, and .

2. The area of the boat where I keep all my most-used stuff. I’m going to come back to these two in another blog, as there’s too much to include in this one.

3. First aid kit, packed into a big blue fabric suitcase

4. Mesh wall bags containing Squishie the Dolphin, Chirpy the Robin, and Quackers the Duck, as well as a crash hat, spare rowing gloves, baseball hats, and other items of clothing.

5. Pelican case containing PC and various leads

6. Pelican case containing Mac, mobile phones, passport, and money – my technological ditch bag. If I’m abandoning ship the Mac comes with me!

7. Small Pelican case containing blood pressure gauge. I use this daily to send blood pressure and heart rate to my medical advisor, Dr Aenor Sawyer, so she can assess my health.

8. Locker containing water ballast

9. Locker containing toolkit, electrical kit, various useful bits and bobs like string, Velcro, tape, spare batteries, etc.

10. Locker containing two marine batteries – the ones that power most of my electrical system.

11 and 12. Lockers containing Larabars (originally several hundred, now down to the last 100 or so), mixed nuts, and tamari almonds.

13. The “bathroom cabinet” – locker containing toiletries: wet wipes, tea tree oil, sun lotion, toothpaste, shower gel, shampoo etc.

The next and final in this series will cover the control panel, most-used items, and the various pockets and pouches mounted on the walls around the hatch to the cockpit. I really hope this isn’t too boring – to me it seems the equivalent of describing the contents of somebody’s kitchen cupboards – but I guess my home is a little unusual so maybe I can be excused for inflicting this description of the minutiae of my surroundings.

Other stuff:

Position at 2330 15th August Pacific Time, 0630 16th August UTC: 22 55.842′N, 149 00.145′W.

It’s been a long day. I really, really wanted to get to 149 degrees West today to give me a realistic chance of reaching Hawaii before the end of the month. But after my dalliance with the JUNK I had my work cut out today. It was a brutal last shift – rowing in the dark in squalls and strong winds – but I made it and I’m quietly proud. And very wet.

Hi to Sue and all at Green People. Thanks for the Amex votes – and for spreading the word.

And a special hi to Trish, Moe, and all in the Gorge. Hope to see you later this year.

And thanks to all the other people who have voted and/or written in. I’m having to step up the rowing for the final 500 nautical miles so I’m not going to have time to acknowledge all messages, but I do read them and appreciate them and derive great strength and encouragement from them. So do keep them coming!

Click here to view Day 83 of the Atlantic Crossing 21 February 2006: Food for thought. Posted by Rita Savage.

Do visit the JUNK website.

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I was talking with the guys on the JUNK the other night about the things that we are looking forward to when we get back to dry land. Our wants were simple – crisp sheets, hot showers, cold drinks, and beer might possibly have been mentioned.

(In answer to the several people who asked about our dinner party drinks, alas there was neither wine nor beer, and the lack was sorely felt. A sundowner would have been just the thing. But the guest neglected to bring any, as the Brocade is a dry ship – in the alcoholic sense only, being usually a very wet ship in all other regards.)

It is so easy to take things for granted.. Until you spend 3 months without them. During my water crisis, particularly, I swore I would never again take running water for granted. I realized that the majority of the world’s population does not have easy access to a steady supply of clean water – they have to carry from wells, or from standpipes, or draw their water from streams and rivers of dubious cleanliness. For a little while, at least, I really appreciated the privileges of my western lifestyle.

But realistically, I know that my newfound appreciation of all things that “civilized” life has to offer is unlikely to outlast my suntan once I get back to shore. It is all too easy to regard these things as a right rather than a privilege, or simply not to think about them at all.

It would be quite exhausting to be grateful for every little thing, all of the time. But I do try, as part of my daily routine both on the sea and when I am on dry land (usually just as I am going to bed) to say thank you for a few of the good things that have happened during that day – for progress made, a new friend, a kind word, a good meal – or just for my health and strength. Just to show that I’ve noticed – and of course in the hope of attracting more of the same into my life.

Do visit the JUNK website.

Late addition Aug.15th: great video on the blogspot today!

Other stuff:

Position at 2145 14th August Pacific Time, 0445 15th August UTC: 22 57.554′N, 148 21.612′W.

Amex, Amex, Amex. Please keep asking all your friends and colleagues to vote – it’s not for me personally, but for the environmental education (via film, website et al) that we are creating based on my row. But do please note that if you vote twice, not only is the second vote not counted but I am actually penalized for it. So we need to just try and reach as many people as possible. Keep spreading the word!

While I was having dinner on board the JUNK I noticed that the Brocade had a load of barnacles growing on her starboard side towards the stern. When I went over the side a couple of weeks ago I’d only done the port side, because as far as I could see from the cockpit, that was the only side that needed doing. But here were some sneaky hitchhikers that would need to go. So today I went over the side again. I’m getting quite proficient at this now, but hopefully no further scrapings will be required before Hawaii.

I’d been so proud of myself, bringing only biodegradable bin bags with me. Very green, I thought. But when I went to get something out of the large central locker in the cockpit today, where I also keep my rubbish, I found that the bags have already started degrading – rather ahead of schedule. And I don’t have any others on board. I’ll just have to deal with it when I reach land. At least there is nothing too offensive in there – most of my rubbish consists of Larabar wrappers and expedition meal bags.

We have put a list on my website of all the books I have listened to so far this voyage – with links to Amazon and Audible.com.

Thanks for all the kind messages. Dinner on the JUNK seems to have been enjoyed by my internet audience nearly as much as it was enjoyed by me (and the comments about “HUNKS on the JUNK” made me smile!). It certainly was a unique and very special experience, to be remembered and treasured… and, of course, to be noted in an attitude of gratitude!

(To Vote for Roz and the documentary films project: On this page or on the home page, go to the “Members Project” box, on the Amex site find the invitation to sign on as a guest in the column on the right. Having done so, the place to vote is at the top right of their page. Easy, and costs you nothing.)

Thank you.

Click here to view Day 82 of the Atlantic Crossing 20 February 2006: Another day of Waiting. Again no news from Roz.

Also, take a look at the Books box on the website – it contains all the books that Roz has listened to while rowing – and if you wish to buy one, click on the title to go straight to Amazon (USA) or order the audio version for your iPod from Audible.com

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I feel the need to make a confession. There’s something I’ve been keeping very quiet about. (Podcast listeners will already know this.) On 1st July my backup watermaker broke, and has not worked since.

There I was, sitting on deck, pumping steadily on the manual watermaker, when the water stopped dripping from the product pipe and started spouting from the innards of the machine instead. There was no sense of panic – just a weary resignation. I immediately started calculating whether I had enough water to see me to Hawaii, and worked out that I might, but it would be tight.

More out of a sense of due diligence rather than in realistic expectation of a repair, I called the manufacturers of the manual watermaker. They told me that I would need specialist tools and/or parts – which I had not brought with me because the manual watermaker was only ever intended as a backup for use in emergencies. To lose one watermaker may be regarded as unfortunate; to lose two. The customer service representative offered to fix the manual watermaker if I sent it in. I didn’t go into detail, but simply stated that this might be tricky.

So for the last 6 weeks I have been living on my supplies of ballast water. I tried to improvise a solar still but it was not a resounding success – certainly not enough water to survive on. I am now down to my penultimate 10 litre water sac. I could have made it to Hawaii without resupply, but would have had to go on half rations for the last two weeks – which in tropical heat would have been survivable but not fun. I have marveled, every time I look at my 10 litre jerrycan, that while on dry land I probably use this much water every time I flush the toilet, out here on the ocean it would have to keep me going for a week.

The reason I kept quiet? I didn’t want to cause any undue concern. The reason I am telling you now? Because everything is now OK.

For many reasons I was delighted to see the JUNK yesterday. During our phone conversations over the previous few days, we had established that they had a functioning watermaker with which we could refill my jerrycans and waterbags, and also a manual spare watermaker which they were willing to lend me.

In return, their voyage was taking much longer than expected and they were running short on food, while I have plenty. So I donated them three bagfuls (biodegradable bags, of course) containing emergency transfusions of expedition meals, Larabars, and jerky.

I somehow knew that everything would turn out OK, that fortune does indeed favour the bold and that I would not die of dehydration out here. As it is, I got to meet two like-minded individuals who are also crossing the Pacific to raise awareness of marine pollution issues – and the fact that we were able to help each other out by trading food for water was a huge bonus. It was statistically unlikely that we would find our courses intersecting, and yet here we are.

I am constantly amazed and grateful, since I started out on my new life path, how often things turn up just when I need them. It reinforces my chosen belief that this is indeed a benevolent universe, and that potential catastrophes (broken watermakers) are often an opportunity for something wonderful to happen.

[photo: the message on my drinks bottle is pretty uncompromising.]

Other stuff:

Position at 2150 13th August Pacific Time, 0450 14th August UTC: 23 04.302′N, 147 50.325′W.

AMEX GRANTS

I’ve asked a number of favours from you already – to make a Blue Pledge, to donate to my wheelchair-bound friend David’s hand bike – but I have one more. It’s really important to me, and won’t cost you a penny. Amex are giving substantial grants to worthy causes, based purely on popular vote via the internet. We have made an application – if successful, I will be able to carry on with the next 2 stages of my Pacific row to Australia, and we will be able to make an environmental documentary based on the row. Without it. . . .

I need to be in the top 25 by 19th August to make it onto the shortlist, and then in the top 5 to get any funding. So please, please, please register your vote. And get EVERYBODY you know to vote too.

(To Vote: On the home page of this blog, go to the “Members Project” box, on the Amex site find the invitation to sign on as a guest in the column on the right. Having done so, the place to vote is at the top right of their page. Easy, and costs you nothing.)

Thank you.

Thank you also for the lovely messages that continue to pour in. Special mentions to John, Toni, Steve, Bev, Jim, Gene – and especially Sky. I hope to see you and Steve back on the mainland later this year.

Click here to view Day 81 of the Atlantic Crossing 19 February 2006: Silent Sunday. Again no news from Roz.

Also, take a look at the Books box on the website – it contains all the books that Roz has listened to while rowing – and if you wish to buy one, click on the title to go straight to Amazon (USA) or order the audio version for your iPod from Audible.com

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Unusually, I am writing this blog mid-afternoon. Normally I wait until my day’s rowing is over and get out my laptop at about 9.30pm, but today the JUNK has asked me to stop rowing for a while so they can catch up with me, so I find myself with time on my hands – and even on the ocean I don’t like to waste time.

It would be amusing to watch the progress of our two vessels as radar blips or on a MarineTrack chart. Their top speed is about 2.8 kts, mine about 2 kts. We are two very slow-moving objects converging on each other ever so slowly, like two garden snails about to mate (do snails mate?!).

Later:

We met. Although for a while it looked as if it might be tomorrow. The wind dropped right off this afternoon, which isn’t a problem for a rower (apart from getting very hot without the cooling effects of the wind) but it is a problem for a sailboat – especially one built for a purpose rather than for speed – like the JUNK.

After hanging around for an hour waiting for them to catch up I spoke again to the JUNK, and we realized that if we wanted to meet today, and before dark, I would have to turn around and row back towards them. This caused me a minor personal crisis. After nearly three months of heading west, west, always west, it felt totally unnatural to turn the Brocade’s bows deliberately to point east.

But in the overall scheme of things, it seemed to be best to get over this mental obstacle and row back the way I had come. I was finding it unsettling today to be in close proximity to another boat, and much as I was looking forward to meeting Marcus and Joel, I was also looking forward to getting back into my routine and pushing on towards Hawaii. To extend this episode into tomorrow would mean another compromised day at the oars.

So east I went (and north) – and it was well worth it. It took some hard rowing to get close enough to the JUNK – and eventually Marcus jumped into the water and swam over with a thin line so we could connect the two vessels. I used my makeshift cleat to reel in the line to bring Brocade close enough to the JUNK for me to jump aboard their vessel.

And what a vessel she is. I am so glad to have seen her – or I may not have believed her. A raft supported by thousands of plastic bottles lashed into cargo nets, the fuselage of a small aircraft as a cabin, a plush pile bucket seat as a captain’s chair. The JUNK is very, errr, home-made, but all the more impressive for that very reason. I thought she was very cool indeed.

The Brocade bobbed around about 10 yards away at the end of her line. It was strange to see her from the outside – for the last 3 months she has been my entire world. She’s weathering well, and I felt quietly proud of her as she waited there patiently for me.

Marcus pulled up their dredger, which skims the surface of the water to gather plankton and debris. He showed me the results. They are finding more plastic than natural matter -which is sad. Tiny pieces of plastic, still recognizable, dotted the dredger’s haul.

After that it was on to the social part of the evening. I had a great time. Not so different from your average suburban dinner party, except that Joel hopped overboard with mask and snorkel to harpoon our main course – a huge mahi mahi, which went from ocean to stomachs in less than an hour. Joel kept asking if I wanted any more, and I kept saying yes, with the result that we had mahi mahi cooked 3 different ways. I just couldn’t get enough of it. I’d like to think it was my body craving protein, but more likely I was just being greedy!

Conversation revolved around the environment, the Garbage Patch (which Marcus knows well, after 3 trips there), and our respective plans for Hawaii. There is much overlap between our goals and objectives, so hopefully we can maximize the impact of our message by combining forces. We took a load of photos, recorded a video blog for their website, I wrote a good luck message on the fuselage, and just before sunset I returned to the Brocade. The guys had been wonderful hosts, and I went back to my oars with a full belly and a smile on my face.

As I rowed off into the sunset, I reflected that it had been a great evening, and quite surreal in its way – a dinner party on board a pile of junk in mid-Pacific, hundreds of miles from anybody or anywhere – but I still have many miles to go to Hawaii, and I can’t afford to ease up yet. It was good for the soul to have a night off, but tomorrow it will be back to business as usual.

[photo: Dr Marcus Eriksen inspects the haul from the water-skimmer: a mix of plastic and natural debris]

Other stuff:

Position as at 2300 12th August Pacific Time, 0600 13th August UTC: 23 05.760′N, 147 15.961′W.

So today has been a bit of a disaster mileage-wise, but well worth it for a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a very special mid-ocean rendezvous with a couple of great guys.

Thanks to everyone who has voted for my project in the Amex awards. I can’t tell you how much a cash grant like this would help. Without it, I don’t have enough funds for the next 2 stages of the Pacific row – so do please spread the word amongst your friends and family – enabling me to carry on spreading the word about the oceans!

Hi Dana – no, no major muscle cramps. Just a few twinges from time to time – knees, fingers, back – but nothing serious. On the Atlantic I used nearly all the painkillers in my first aid kit. This time around, not one!

Eric – thanks for the recipe, but I brought only the main meals from the MRE packs. On the Atlantic I would make a kind of chocolate mousse from organic hot chocolate drink mixed with a little cold water, which was great. But very sugary, and I am now sworn off refined sugars! (unless we are talking about caramel syrup in a latte.)

Sandi – the Cotswolds? Lovely! I’m enjoying my virtual journey from Land’s End. Thank you!

Well done, Jonathan, on your epic bike ride for a good cause. Happy to be of service!

Hi also to Jennifer, JD, Ruth, Gene, George, Bev, and John.

Click here to view Day 80 of the Atlantic Crossing 18 February 2006: Waiting For News – but none came.

Thanks to Tim (webmaster) for putting the AMEX information on the home page – please remember to vote for the film project about Roz.

Also, take a look at the Books box on the website – it contains all the books that Roz has listened to while rowing – and if you wish to buy one, click on the title to go straight to Amazon (USA).
(These last 3 notes from Rita.)

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“The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, and a hell of heaven.” (John Milton)

A lot of people were mystified why, having survived but not enjoyed one ocean crossing, I would want to do another. There are many reasons why I am rowing the Pacific – first and foremost being the environmental message – but another key reason was precisely because I had such a tough time on the Atlantic. The main challenge for me was staying positive when the going was tough – all too often I spiraled into negativity. I scrabbled through, but I felt it was only right at the end that I really started to get the hang of this psychological aspect.

I learned that life is very much a matter of perception – it’s not so much what happens to you as how you choose to interpret your experiences. We’re all constantly in the process of defining ourselves according to the way we choose to perceive “reality”. This is especially true when spending three months alone on a small boat in the middle of an ocean, without much in the way of outside influence to balance the voices within.

I felt like I’d learned a lot about how not to row an ocean by getting it all wrong the first time – by allowing the negative voices more than their fair share of headspace. And that the best way to test whether I’d really learned the lessons was to put myself in the same situation but with a different mindset – with a determination to stay positive, to be kind to myself, to keep my confidence and self-belief strong, and to take it one day at a time.

And now that I am entering the last few hundred miles of my journey, I am starting to feel that I may pass the test. This voyage, although testing at times, has been a small personal triumph for me in terms of my ability to stay on an even emotional keel, so to speak. There has been less of the whinging and whining that characterized my Atlantic video diary, and I have largely avoided the rollercoaster of emotions I went through on that crossing.

But, as I well know, it ain’t over yet. If I miss Hawaii there will be some major whinging!

Other stuff:

Position as at 2130 11th August Pacific Time, 0430 12th August UTC: 22 59.807′N, 146 44.713′W.

JUNK UPDATE: the JUNK is still chasing me but hasn’t caught up yet. I told the guys today that I’m playing hard to get. But they’re closing the gap and it’s likely we’ll meet tomorrow – if we manage to find each other in these high seas. It has been windy today and my little boat is easily hidden by the large swells. But with the aid of satellite phones and the JUNK’s radar, we are hopeful..

Click here to view Day 79 of the Atlantic Crossing 17 February 2006 – No news from Roz.

American Express members’ project is giving away 2.5 million dollars to 5 causes. Please vote for Roz – guest members can do so.

We are trying to raise funds to pay for 3 documentary films about my solo crossing of the Pacific. I have been nominated for the American Express project – sharing 2.5 million dollars between the top 5 causes.

Please read and act on the following links: http://www.membersproject.com/about/
Also, the following is a link to Roz’s Project. http://www.membersproject.com/project/view/GUMBK6 where you are allowed to vote as a guest member if you are not a member of AMEX.
The closing date is September 1st. Please help. Thanks, Rita.

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No rendezvous with the JUNK today. Several times today we have checked in with each other by satphone to compare positions, and they are slowly but surely gaining on me. Maybe tomorrow.

So, in the meantime, back to the guided tour of the Brocade and her cabins. Today, the fore cabin – and another one of my dodgy drawings. Hey, I’m a rower, not a Picasso.

This cabin is deep and pointy and not very high, so it’s a bit of a limbo dance to get in there. So I use it mostly for things I don’t need very often, or if I do use them often, they are stowed near the hatch so I can reach them without having to go inside.

Starting from the top right in the drawing..

1. The MarineTrack beacon, mounted on the bulkhead. This, in theory, should send back my position at regular intervals. Last year it worked a treat, and enabled us to locate and retrieve the Brocade a week after my unfortunate airlift by a US Coast Guard helicopter. Without the tracking beacon it would have been impossible to find my tiny boat on the huge Pacific. But this year it hasn’t been working quite so well, particularly since I turned westwards. This is a problem with the orientation rather than the unit itself, which is NOT at fault – and the MarineTrack mapping software that you see on this site is still super-cool!

2. Spare buckets

3. Two Daren drums containing my stash of dehydrated buckwheat and flax crackers. Daren drums are often used by kayakers and cavers to keep gear dry – I got them from a caving supplier in the UK, and they’re ideal to stop the crackers from getting crushed.

4. Toolkit. I’ve also got a load of tools in the aft (sleeping) cabin.

5. Another bucket, containing spare rowing shoes, spare seat, etc.

6. Bucket containing SeaCook propane stove when not in use.

7. Pelican case (very sturdy and very waterproof) containing technology spares – spare rechargers, startup disk, cables, etc.

8. Spare sea anchors, drogues, and waterproof bags containing a few clothes in case I get to Hawaii before my mother arrives with my suitcase! My ocean-going clothes are not going to be very presentable by then. In fact, they’re not now. Grubby, salty, rust-stained – it’s a tough life for everything out here; clothes, electronics, and humans alike.

9. Hatch to large locker beneath deck level containing one marine battery (to which the MarineTrack unit is connected, powered by solar panels on the fore cabin roof) and half of the water ballast, contained in 4 x 10 litre Dromedary bags. The other 4 bags are under the aft cabin.

This fore cabin is only about half full. If I was planning a really long voyage – like if I’d decided to do the Pacific in one fell swoop from Peru to Australia – I could fit a LOT more stuff in there. We could install hatches to allow access to the remainder of the under-deck areas, and also stow plenty more food above deck level – although it would have to be carefully organized so the first things to be used were nearest the hatch.

Oh, and one other thing I have in the fore cabin. my fishing rod, generously given to me by Mike Dale. So far not used due to various reasons – no water to spare for cooking fish, no time to spare for filleting fish, a residual squeamishness about having to cosh the fish on the head, and a concern that, like Erden Eruc on his Pacific row last year, I might inadvertently catch a fish that proves to be inedible, and suffer the consequent guilt pangs for having taken a life needlessly.

But no doubt, if I miss Hawaii and run out of prepackaged foods, all these reasons would dwindle into insignificance if it was a matter of survival. but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’d hate to miss the Hawaii party!

Other stuff:

Position at 2145 10th August Pacific Time, 0445 11th August UTC: 23 02.943′N, 146 06.852′W.

Again, a real mixed bag of weather today. After each squall there is a period of spooky calm, when the ocean seems hushed and subdued, before it recovers its spirits and the wind starts to blow again. Between rainclouds the tropical sun has been intense. Definitely getting further south!

A quick roundup of messages – hi to Jacquie Barone and gang – great to hear from you (but no babies for me, thank you!), Jim, Gene, Erin, Louise, John, Sandi (loved the UK analogy for my remaining miles! I’ve got a good friend in Exeter..)

Click here to view Day 78 of the Atlantic Crossing 16 February 2006: The Big Wuss Principle.

American Express members’ project is giving away 2.5 million dollars to 5 causes. Please vote for Roz – guest members can do so.

We are trying to raise funds to pay for 3 documentary films about my solo crossing of the Pacific. I have been nominated for the American Express project – sharing 2.5 million dollars between the top 5 causes.

Please read and act on the following links: http://www.membersproject.com/about/
Also, the following is a link to Roz’s Project. http://www.membersproject.com/project/view/GUMBK6 where you are allowed to vote as a guest member if you are not a member of AMEX.
The closing date is September 1st. Please help. Thanks, Rita.

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Today has been an odd day. After so many days at sea, I had got into quite a routine, which swung along easily without requiring too much mental energy or concentration. But today the weather, and circumstances, have been conspiring to shake things up around here. This is not a bad thing. It’s just a thing.

The last couple of nights have been squally, making for little sleep and much bouncing around. Today the squalls spread into the daytime as well – winds variable, and bright sunshine giving way to dark grey clouds and onslaughts of rain. At times the rowing felt easy, at other times like rowing through glue.

I’d got used to looking at the figures in my logbook at the end of each shift to see roughly how many minutes of longitude I’d covered, and then figuring out a realistic target for the end of the day. But today it was so variable that it forced me into a more accepting way of being, not so goal-oriented. All I could do was carry on rowing, and the end result would be largely down to the weather. It would be what it would be.

This evening there were some other surprises – good ones. I spoke to the crew of the JUNK at 6pm Pacific Time to compare positions, and it looks likely that they will catch up with me tomorrow. The squalls have helped them along and they have been making good progress. So this evening I was quite a-flutter, getting ready for my first human contact since 26th May.

We are planning to exchange some goodies – they are short on food but OK for water, while I am short on water and have plenty of food. So I spent a while rummaging around in lockers to dig out some supplies for them – and turned up a few items I thought I’d run out of. It’s amazing how things can get lost on such a small boat. I found a solitary remaining MRE (Meal Ready to Eat) and ate it for my dinner – a real treat to have proper satisfying chunks of food rather than the little pieces of freeze-dried rubble.

I also found some more tamari sunflower seeds (I mix them in with beansprouts, tamari almonds, nama shoyu sauce and tahini to make a very good and nutritious lunch), and some dried apple slices – both very welcome additions to my larder.

I’ve got a generous stack of expedition meals and Larabars to give to the guys tomorrow. I thought about giving them some of my dehydrated flax crackers too, but I suspect that no matter how short on food they are, they may not share my more extreme wholefoodie tastes.

Other stuff:

Position as at 2145 9th August Pacific Time, 0445 10th August UTC: 23 04.311′N, 145 36.282′W.

People are starting to ask for an ETA in Hawaii.. Well, what can I say? I don’t want to tempt fate. In my experience, anything involving boats always takes longer than expected.. But OK. Tentatively, based on my calculations of average mileages since I crossed 130 degrees west, I hope to arrive on or around 31st August, which would be Day 99. Will I make it? Only one way to find out – keep watching this blog!

Thanks for the messages and questions passed on to me by Leo in our podcast this morning. Thanks also for the other messages coming in via my website. Special mentions to: Tiny Little – a constant source of inspiration. Hope to see you when I am back in the UK in November. George and Tori – congrats on completing the bike ride. Hope you raised enough money for Dave’s hand bike fund – and that you’ve recovered from the saddle soreness! Diane (my cousin) – you crazy fell runner. Is it something in our genes? I thought I got it from Mum’s side, but I may have to reconsider! Good luck in the half marathon. And say hi to Paul from me – glad you two are having so much fun together! Anke Altermann – wow, you really ARE paying attention! The speakers are mounted underneath the side decks, one next to the “garden” (the seed sprouter) and the other in the “bathroom”. There are another two speakers in the cabin. Lesley Ewing – great to hear from you! I still wear the superb t-shirt you gave me – a constant reminder of why I do what I do.

Click here to view Day 77 of the Atlantic Crossing 15 February: Stealth Sedna – radar could not find her boat.

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Picture: JUNK Learn more -click for their website.

Today, after several days of failed attempts, I finally managed to make contact with the good ship JUNK, on her way from California to Hawaii to raise awareness of plastic pollution in the oceans. Sound familiar?!

Navigator Joel picked up the satphone, and I spoke to him and to Dr Marcus Eriksen. I’d spoken to Marcus before, while we were both still on dry land. He works with Captain Charlie Moore of the Algalita, the two of them having visited the infamous North Pacific Garbage Patch to conduct scientific research. Marcus and I had discussed how we could combine efforts to the greater good of both our ventures, but then my departure date was brought forwards and we ran out of time. But it seems we were destined to meet – and it looks as if it might be sooner rather than later.

Today we compared latitudes, longitudes, courses and daily average mileage, and it appears that we are on converging routes. The JUNK is gaining on me steadily. We are going to try to rendezvous – most likely in 3 or 4 days time – but this is going to be VERY tricky. We are two small, not very manoeverable craft, trying to meet up amidst towering waves on a very large ocean.

But at least we do now have communication, which is a good start. And we want to make it work, which is a good next step.

If we succeed, theirs will be the first human faces I have seen since I passed the Farralon Islands on 26th May. I am now rather thinner, browner, and considerably saltier than I was back then. Time to dig out some clothes and try and make myself presentable!

I also saw an aeroplane today, for the first time on this crossing. It was heading northeast, maybe from Hawaii to California, the reverse of my route.

So after months of seemingly having the ocean to myself, it’s starting to get kind of crowded around here!

Other stuff:

Position at 2120 8th August Pacific Time, 0420 9th August UTC: 23 09.417′N, 145 06.322′W.

After a rather frustrating day yesterday, it was once again too rough to row this morning. But this afternoon the wind slackened by a couple of knots and I was able to get back to the oars. Yippee! In fact, it turned into a fine rowing day with large swells and helpful winds. I rowed along contentedly while listening to a P.D James book, A Death in Holy Orders. Nothing like a good murder mystery in mid-Pacific!

Thanks for all the messages – encouraging, informative, and supportive.

Special hi to George and Astrid in New Zealand.

And to Bob and Jamie Craft – thank you for the update on the family. Great to hear the news of REAL lives! Hope to see you in DC (or St Louis) during my “lap of honour” of the US this autumn.

And special thanks to John H for the stats – although my weatherguy and I work in nautical miles, not statute miles, so you may want to switch over so we are talking the same language! But my daily mileages definitely sound better in statute.

Louise – wow, what an adventure! Sounds very exciting. Good luck with the new life in Cowes, and with the sailing.

Rog Dodge – good luck with the preps for the Indian Ocean race. I will be watching it with interest!

Richard Dib – good to hear your family is cutting down on water bottles. Congratulations! Unfortunately I can’t browse the internet from here – only send emails (which is how I do my blog) but will check out your song when back on dry land.

Melissa – lockers, hatches, holes under the decks with lids on top. whatever. Sorry if I’m getting my nautical terminology wrong. Don’t blame me – I’m just a dumb rower! On my boat, the round ones have screw lids and the rectangular ones have hinged lids with pivot handles to secure them closed. All lids are white plastic and opaque. Does that help?! Part 2 (fore cabin) coming up tomorrow. Now just try to contain your excitement..!

Click here to view Day 76 of the Atlantic Crossing 14 February 2006: Ultimate Valentine Greeting – a vist from the Royal Navy!

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Tomorrow the Olympics begin – in fact, given the time difference between Beijing and my own personal time zone 800 miles east of Hawaii, maybe they already have begun. I’d like to take this chance to wish good luck to all the competitors, and also to reflect on the spirit of competition.

A friend of mine who knows about these things once told me that the original meaning of the word “competition” implied a coming together of athletes in the pursuit of excellence – through pitting themselves against each other they would spur each other on to ever greater heights of achievement. If an athlete broke a record, the other athletes would celebrate with him or her, taking their share of the credit for having pushed the standard to a higher level, and basking in the reflected glory of the group effort. The new record was the achievement of ALL the competitors, not just the individual who stood on the top step of the podium with the gold medal around their neck.

This contrasts sharply with the “I win, you lose” attitude that often seems to underlie present day competition. I’ve been as guilty of this as anybody – when I rowed for Oxford against Cambridge (in 1988 and 1989) it was all about wanting to beat our traditional rivals by as many lengths as possible, showing no mercy. Joint efforts were the last things on our minds.

I’m no longer so competitive, although it’s an urge I still fight to resist. During the Atlantic Rowing Race I found myself in the discomfiting position of being competitive enough to hate coming last (although as the only solo female it’s what you would expect) but not being sufficiently competitive to cut down on my already deficient sleep in order to row for more hours.

So I’m definitely happier in a non-competitive situation, just doing my own thing, as I am on the Pacific. The ocean is a tough enough adversary without adding other humans into the equation as well.

But I digress. Back to the Beijing Olympics. I hope that the older, purer attitude will prevail. Every athlete who has been selected to represent their country is already a winner. I’ve read autobiographies by athletes who have been to the Olympics, and it sounds like a wonderful and special experience that only the talented few will ever enjoy.

To pin “success” on a gold medal is a very black-and-white definition. I hope that the participants will find a more flexible definition of success, to enjoy the Olympiad for the unique opportunity to meet similarly dedicated athletes from all over the world, and to treasure it as a special experience, no matter what the outcome in terms of medals.

Good luck one and all.

Other stuff:

Position at 2100 7th August Pacific Time, 0400 8th August UTC: 23 16.327′N, 144 37.356′W.

Very rough conditions today, with high seas and strong winds making it difficult to steer a straight course for Hawaii. This was rather frustrating after the sterling progress of recent days. But the forecast is for the wind to drop slightly after tomorrow, so hopefully conditions will get a bit easier soon.

Thank you for the ongoing messages of support and encouragement – and also for the kind donations. The next stage of my row is due to start in Spring next year, and the kitty is all but empty – far from adequate to replace the many items (mostly electronics) that have ceased to function since I left San Francisco. So all contributions, no matter how small, are most welcome.

Just like your contributions to a better planet, they all add up!

Click here to view Day 75 of the Atlantic Crossing 13 February 2006: The Perfect Adventure.

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I’ve been interested in food all my life, and interested in raw foods since I went on a retreat over Christmas and New Year this last year – the chef at the retreat centre was very into raw foods, and I gleaned as much information as I could while I was there. It was a relatively new concept to me, but it seemed to make intuitive sense – good for my body as well as good for the planet – and I resolved to incorporate much more raw food into my diet both on dry land and on the ocean.

As luck would have it, my friend Ami turned out to be something of a raw foods guru. She and I met when she was an instructor with the Bay Area Boot Camp (now renamed AlaVie). I trained with BABC last year, enjoying the camaraderie of a bunch of women assembling at unearthly hours of the morning to train in a local park. Great for the weak of willpower! (And yes, that DOES include me!)

So I asked Ami to write a guest blog about raw foods. Here is what she has to say.

I love food! I love to talk about food, eat food, and for the first time in my life, I love making food. My newest passion is raw, or “live,” food — a radically simple and healthy way to eat. Over a year ago, I met Roz as one of her trainers in Northern California, and she recently became interested in raw food as well. Roz is incorporating it into her diet, so she’s asked me to write a little about my lifestyle and how to get started with raw foodism.

Plus, less processed foods mean less waste in the trash can and around the waist!

Other stuff:

Position at 2130 6th August Pacific Time, 0430 7th August UTC: 23 26.983′N, 144 12.168′W.

Strong winds and large swells have made for interesting rowing conditions today. After recent record-breaking days the pace has slowed down slightly – although wind assistance is good, too much wind makes it difficult to row well, so the ideal is a balance between brisk wind and rowable conditions, and I wasn’t quite there today. This is the problem with oceans – always too much of something or not enough!

Have been making a deliberate effort to look around me a bit more. I noticed several small pieces of rubbish as I passed close to them. Some are on the surface of the water, some visible just beneath – it all depends on the density of the material. This is one of the problems with the pollution issue – so much of it is hidden beneath the surface that it’s only through the good work of the Algalita Foundation (of which JUNK is a project) that we have any idea at all of the true extent of the problem, as they take water samples from all depths and measure the quantities of pollution.

I also noticed some little fishes swimming to keep up with my boat. But then I got a crick in my neck from all my rubbernecking, so may need to keep my eyes in the boat tomorrow!

I didn’t receive my usual email from Mum yesterday with the comments from the website, so I can’t respond to them. I shall have words with the management.

Click here to view Day 74 of the Atlantic Crossing 12 February 2006: Happy Days are Here Again.

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One of the things that has really impressed me about the comments and messages I receive is just how good some people are at putting themselves in my place, identifying with my issues, and understanding my life. Considering that most people have never rowed across an ocean, or even seen an ocean rowboat, this is quite a feat of imagination and empathy. Even though I’d spoken to dozens of ocean rowers before I did the Atlantic, I’m not sure I’d formed as clear a mental picture of what it would be like as some of you have achieved..

So, to provide even more information with which you can furnish your mental image of my boat and everyday life, I’ve decided to do a short 3-part series of blogs about the Brocade, her layout, and what I keep where.

So if you can’t imagine anything more boring that the contents of my lockers, come back later!

Part 1: The Cockpit

I am no artist, but this photo is of my attempt to sketch the layout of the rowing cockpit – the middle section of my boat. Overall the cockpit is about 8 feet long and 5 feet wide. This diagram is drawn from my point of view as I’m rowing, i.e. facing backwards, so the stern cabin would be off the top of the picture.

The curvy thing that looks like the Lone Ranger’s eye mask is my rowing seat, mounted on a rectangular platform, which coasts up and down on its two runners (the long rectangles). Above it you see my two rowing shoes, which are fixed to the boat, with the compass mounted between them. The compass has a battery-operated backlight for use after dark – red, so it doesn’t impair my night vision. On the side decks to either side of the rowing position are mounted the riggers and oarlocks for the oars, and small cleats for the rudder strings.

Just beyond my feet is a grabrail screwed to the deck. This is the one I appropriated as a makeshift cleat for reeling in my sea anchor. It also bears a bracket where I mount the Seacook stove for boiling water.

Footwell: contains liferaft (lashed upright against cabin bulkhead), jerrycan for water, and all-purpose bucket. Also contains 100 lb of lead, sealed into a compartment below a false bottom. Also often contains large amounts of seawater in rough weather. I must have bailed it out about 30 times so far. I will definitely be reinstating the electric bilge pump during the Hawaii layover!

Locker 1: Grab bag (to go with me in liferaft if abandoning ship – contains spare GPS, VHF radio, water, chocolate, flashlight and all kinds of other useful things) Lifejacket Portable bilge pump

Locker 2: the galley locker Beans for sprouting Bags of dinner foods currently in use (freeze dried peas, sweetcorn, kidney beans, expedition meals – I sit on the liferaft and assemble my meal in a thermos mug while the kettle is boiling) Lighters for cooking stove Sauces, herbs, spices Spare mugs, food containers, etc.

Locker 3: empty

Locker 4: freeze-dried expedition meals

Locker 5: Ropes Lifting harness Mask and snorkel

Locker 6: Bags of jerky Bags of freeze dried vegetables which I add to the freeze-dried expedition meals to boost the veg content of my diet

Locker 7: Watermaker

Locker 8: Bucket Cleaning materials Trash Items to be recycled And another 100 lb of lead under a false bottom

Above decks, the seed sprouter lives in the top right corner, in a string bag secured to the boat by a karabiner and tucked under the side deck.

Bathroom facilities (bedpan) live top left, again tucked under the side deck

The sea anchor (sponsored by Zillion TV), along with its ropes and buoy, lives in the bottom left corner.

I have two canvas cockpit bags attached to the gunwales to either side of the rowing position – one for snacks and the other for items that might be needed urgently – marine flares and an air horn to attract attention of a ship that might be about to mow me down.

And that little area, no more than a few square feet, is where I spend most of my waking hours. As I row I face the aft hatch, which takes up most of my field of vision, so my eyes wander from compass, to liferaft, to hatch – and frequently up to the red ensign flag fluttering from the cabin roof, which shows me clearly which direction the wind is coming from.

After 103 days looking at this view on my way across the Atlantic, and 73 days so far on the Pacific, I’ve got to know it pretty well!

Other stuff:

Position at 2145 5th August Pacific Time, 0445 6th August UTC: 23 32.422′N, 143 40.657.

Today has been as fine a rowing day as I could ever wish for. After a squally start the skies cleared and the wind settled into a helpful ENE direction, kicking up a good swell that has been gently propelling me Hawaii-wards. The rowing has been comfortable – no more battling across waves – and the temperature perfect. I’ve asked my weatherguy to order up more of the same.

After taking so long to cross the first few degrees of longitude, I’m now crossing off another number on my whiteboard every couple of days. It is very, very satisfying.

Thanks for all the messages. Some special mentions: Deirdre – thanks for telling me about the buttery croissants and brioche. Huh. Envious, me?! Looking forward to catching up with you on your lovely boat when I get back to California. John – thanks for the facts and figures. My weatherguy works in nautical miles, but maybe I like statute miles better – the numbers are bigger! Too bad I may not see JUNK. I was hoping to scrounge some water. Bottled?!! Steve and Sky and Nomadness – congrats on the maiden voyage! Have a great time – and I hope our courses intercept soon on dry land if not at sea. Jim – tbanks for the encouraging words about the treats in store between here and Hawaii. Hi to Michael and everybody else at Brocade. Thank you for your ongoing support. And thanks to Sandi, Chris, and all the others who are willing me on with their cries of Go Roz!

Click here to view Day 73 of the Atlantic Crossing 11 February 2006: At Sea Nobody can Hear You Scream – frustration.

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Today we have a second guest blog from David Helvarg, founder of Blue Frontier Campaign and author of 50 Ways To Save The Ocean. My row is a project of the Blue Frontier Campaign, and I look to David as my expert on all matters marine. I invited him to write a piece about the unnecessary pollution caused by plastic water bottles, and he has kindly obliged with this very informative yet entertaining blog.

DRINK LIKE A FISH – JUST NOT OUT OF PLASTIC

Next time you hoist one to Roz or some other ocean champion make sure it’s not from a plastic bottle.

80 percent of all marine debris comes from land-based sources, while 60-80 percent of that debris, and 90 percent of floating debris, is plastic, and as we know, floating plastic bags are dead ringers for endangered sea turtles’ favorite snack food, jellyfish.

It was during World War Two that rayon and plastic were first synthesized to replace cotton and rubber that were then in short supply (the Axis powers were occupying key production lands). Rayon reached its apotheosis with the Aloha shirt that Roz will find many of her friends and supporters wearing when she gets to Hawaii. Plastic on the other hand has become a global plague.

I’m not saying that various kinds of plastics don’t make for good aircraft and boat skins, sail cloth, IV bags, prosthetic body parts, bathtub liners, also boogey boards and flak jackets (I have one of each). Some forms of plastic are so useful as metal substitutes that I’d argue we shouldn’t be wasting our limited supplies of oil producing greenhouse-generating fuels.

Unfortunately with oil companies like Exxon-Mobil and Shell having grown into the largest industrial combine in human history we’re burning more fossil fuel than ever even as plastic has become so cheap to manufacture that over 90 percent of it is wasted as throw away packaging including everything from single-use grocery bags to designer brand plastic water bottles.

Here’s a back of the (recycled) envelope calculation I’ve done. Every year the world’s oceans are stripped of about 100 million tons of living biomass to feed the global seafood market. Most of this does not go to feed the world’s hungry, but goes to the restaurants, supermarkets and fast-food joints of developed nations where it’s appetite not hunger driving the slaughter that’s taking fish out of the sea faster than they can reproduce. At the same time we manufacture about 200 million metric tons of plastic stock every year. If half of that eventually finds its way to the sea that means we’re replacing living organisms with toxic polymers on a pound per pound basis. Jeez, how long can that go on?

Along with the oil and gas used to manufacture hundreds of billions of disposable plastic bags and bottles we then burn even more oil transporting the heavy weight of water. We burn bunker fuel, the carcinogenic dregs of the petroleum process, to ship containers full of bottled water across entire ocean basins from places like France and Fiji to places like California and Australia. Compared to that, rowing alone across the Pacific with a water maker aboard your small boat seems eminently sane.

While about a billion people still don’t have access to clean, potable water, people who do are spending up to $7.00 a gallon for the alleged health and lifestyle benefits of spring water, geyser water, desalinated deep ocean water (Mahalo Water from Hawaii that’s mostly marketed in Japan) and filtered municipal water (from Coca-Cola and Pepsi). Or you could turn on the tap and get that same municipal water for about one tenth of a penny-per-gallon (that’s 3.78 liters, Roz). Personally I drink Coke. If I’m going to spend that kind of money I want lots of beet sugar, citric acid and caffeine thrown into the deal.

So now here’s the good news. There is a rapidly growing global movement against throwaway plastic. From places like the small town of Modbury in Great Britain it’s spread to China, Australia, South Africa and 15 other countries that have decided to ban single-use plastic bags.

In California, the State’s Ocean Protection Council has just come out with a report on marine debris that says fast-food outlets and coffee shops should not be allowed to distribute polystyrene cups and containers, that supermarkets and other retail stores should have mandatory recycling or else ban single-use plastic bags. It points out that bottles (glass or plastic) with redemption fees of as little as 25 cents are rarely if ever found in beach litter.

There’s also a bill in the California State House AB 2058 the “Plastic Bag Waste Reduction Act,” that would implement a minimum fee of 25 cents per single use plastic bag no later than 2010 while still allowing local municipalities to charge higher fees or, like the city of San Francisco, ban the bags outright.

The Blue Frontier Campaign, along with other seaweed (marine grassroots) groups, has signed a letter to Governor Schwarzenegger asking him to support the bill and sign it into law. If you’re a California resident please contact your State Senator and express your support for AB 2058. For information on how to do this go to the website of Heal the Bay, www.healthebay.org. For more general ocean updates go to our site at www.bluefront.org

Remember, each of us doing our part can take small but significant steps to use less plastic, to change the laws to reduce plastic waste and to make our societies more sustainable so that the seas around us can sustain their own wondrous diversity of life now and forever. As a friend of mine likes to say, “we do it one stroke at a time.” And that’s the Roz Savage lesson of the day.

Other stuff:

Position as at 2210 4th August Pacific Time, 0510 5th August UTC: 23 34.989′N, 142 56.643′W.

A mixed bag of weather today. Squally this morning, with a few short rainshowers (but no significant amounts of water collected – the showers were too short). Then windy and sunny this afternoon. Another good day for progress. We luuuuurve those trade winds!

Thanks for all the messages of support, encouragement and advice. As I’m rowing later and later in the evenings (I row until it gets dark, and as I head west that time gets later) I’m starting to struggle to mention people individually in every blog, so will take a night off from it tonight. It’s been a long day and my bunk is calling! But will mention individuals and answer questions when not feeling so tired..

Click here to view Day 72 of the Atlantic Crossing 10 February 2006: Thoughts on Reaching Triple Figures – less than 1000 miles to go.

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When I was on the Atlantic, an ocean-rowing friend of mine wrote to me about the “sweet water” – his term for the ocean conditions that are a bit like the sweet spot on a tennis racquet, when everything just comes together in a moment of perfection. Today I found the sweet water.

The wind picked up to a nice brisk 20+ knots from more or less the right direction, the sun was shining brightly, the blue waves contrasted gorgeously with their white foaming crests, and the rowing was good. I felt like I was flying along – and I crossed off another degree of longitude on my whiteboard.

But I won’t get too excited about it, I won’t, I won’t, I won’t. I keep telling myself.

On the Atlantic I fell into the trap, when things were going well, of assuming that they would continue to go well indefinitely – and of course they didn’t. I ended up virtually becalmed for about two weeks, slowing my progress and delaying my arrival in Antigua.

So I’m certainly not taking anything for granted. I will enjoy these superb conditions for as long as they last, but will try not to get too despondent if and when they change and my rate of progress declines.

Oh but it’s hard! I keep getting all excited and calculating my ETA and planning my celebrations in Hawaii, and have to remind myself that I’ve still got nearly 1,000 miles to go!

Other stuff:

Position at 2150 3rd August Pacific Time, 0450 4th August UTC: 23 39.606′N, 142 06.388′W.

I’ve been really pleased with the way the new extended skeg on the Brocade has improved my ability to hold a course. After consultation with the original designer of the hull, Phil Morrison, I commissioned Nancy, a friend in California who is an extremely skilled carbon fibre craftswoman, to add an extra 5 inches of depth to the fin that runs along the bottom of the boat. It seems to have made Brocade much more responsive to the set of the rudder, both when rowing and when drifting. Definitely worth the investment. And a big thank you to Nancy for a fantastic job.

The death toll on electronic components continues. Today the rechargers for both my satphone and my iPod stopped working. This would be a total disaster… if I didn’t have backup options. I can recharge the iPod from the USB port of my laptop. And it’s the 12V (DC) recharger for the phone that has failed, but I still have the wall socket charger that I can plug into the inverter and charge on AC. Or else, with no phone, it would have been an end to my blogs! (Apart from the fact that, of course, I have a spare phone too…)

Unfortunately, the strong winds that made for a great day’s rowing are not conducive to a good night’s sleeping. I’m being jolted around in my cabin while I’m trying to type this blog. It’s going to be a rough old night…

Thanks for the updates on JUNK’s progress. I keep looking out for them! I am sure they will catch up with me soon – especially once they get into these winds that have helped me along today.

Special thanks to Sean in Australia – your lovely message was the icing on the cake of a very good day for me! Thank you.

Ken’s question: my cabin is watertight, and for air I have 2 small vents that should be above the waterline if the boat capsized. But I tend to close them if conditions are really rough. And I haven’t suffocated yet.

Thanks also to the Johns, Tim, Gene, Dana, Sharon, Jonathan, Ken of the RunnerDuck Review (thanks for spreading the word!) and to all the other people who enrich my ocean experience by keeping me in their hearts and minds.

Click here to view Day 71 of the Atlantic Crossing 8 February 2006: The Gloves are Off – serious effort.
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No, this isn’t a story about releasing a whale (that’s Free Willy). It’s a blog inspired by the audiobook I was listening to today – Nobody’s Fool by Richard Russo. At first I mistook this book for a very lightweight story about a few ordinary people and the trivia of their lives in a small American town. But the book has really grown on me, especially since I figured out that it’s actually about free will – the power we have to take control of our lives and determine our own destinies.

Various characters in the book have limited their ability to exercise their free will, allowing themselves to be controlled by carnal urges, circumstances, parents, spouses, friends, bosses, behaviour patterns learned in childhood, or in the main character’s case, what he calls a “stupid streak” – he knows even while he is doing something that it is stupid, and what the consequences will be, but despite his awareness he seems powerless to stop himself from doing it.

It made me think deeply about my own actions and reactions, and how much they are conditioned responses to old stimuli, rather than being well thought out and rational responses to situations. My own kind of stupid streak.

But it also made me realize that this is yet another reason why I am drawn to rowing across oceans – when you do something so totally outside of normal life, it somehow frees you from those tired old behaviour patterns because all the stimuli are so utterly different. It allows you to redefine yourself in some way, discovering strengths you never knew you had. It breaks old habits and allows new ones to form. It’s an opportunity to drop character traits that are not helpful and develop some that have lain dormant.

Out here, totally alone on my life capsule of a boat, I have almost unlimited power to exercise free will. The challenge, of course, is taking back all those positive new habits and maintaining them back on dry land, back amongst the same old stimuli. That’s the hard part..

I’ll leave the last word to the eminently quotable George Bernard Shaw:

Life is not about finding yourself. It’s about creating yourself.

Other stuff:

Position at 2140 2nd August Pacific Time, 0440 3rd August UTC: 23 47.518′N, 141 17.011′W.

The last shift today was fantastic. Almost fun. For the very first time since I left San Francisco I was able to row straight downwind, the wind and swell going my way. The wind, which usually roars in my left ear, went quiet as it was blocked by the bulk of the aft cabin. The red ensign flag, which has fluttered every which way during this voyage, flapped cheerfully towards me. The boat felt light and easy to row. More of the same, please!

Messages: thanks for all the suggestions about ladders, steps, etc for getting back on board after barnacle-scrubbing expeditions. Let me just clarify. I already have grablines all the way around the boat which give me a good leg-up into the cockpit. The challenge then was wriggling my way around the oars – main and spares – which are stowed at the sides of the cockpit, doubling up as guardrails. I could, of course, have moved them out of the way before entering the water, but it was easier to leave them where they were. It probably only took me a couple of minutes to get back on board – it just seemed longer because I had the video camera running and wanted to get to it before a wave did.

Christopher wanted to know if the podcast will continue in Hawaii: we will do at least a couple after I arrive. Leo is hoping to be there for the occasion.

Hi to Bob and Eva – the dehydrated buckwheat crackers are fantastic! My favourites.

I will look out for the raft JUNK. It would be amazing – although unlikely – if we were able to have a mid-ocean rendezvous. Do they have communications equipment on board? Do they know I am out here?

Karyn – I didn’t think to bring shampoo formulated for saltwater. My priority was to bring organic. But maybe I’ll try that in saltwater. At the moment I’m just trying not to think about my hair. Baseball caps are wonderful things.

Hi to Chris Bone of OceansWatch. Hope to hear more about Vanuatu!

And thanks to everybody else who has written in – and those who haven’t, but have been following the blogs, podcasts and Twitters. It really is heartwarming to know that so many people are interested in following my adventure and my random ramblings. Thank you!

Click here to view Day 70 of the Atlantic Crossing 8 February: Message from Monty – the school teddy bear accompanying Roz on the voyage. This time she has Chirpy the Robin with her. (See June 3rd 2008 for picture.)

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Or is that at 140 (degrees West)?!

I am 40 years old. Old enough to know better than to go mucking about on oceans, you might think, but evidently not. And I freely confess that this is not exactly what I thought I would be doing at this age. The 16-year-old me would probably have envisaged the 40-year-old me as being married, living in a nice house, having a couple of kids and probably being back at work in some high-powered City job.

The 16-year-old me would have been shocked and appalled that I might be homeless, with no steady income, and no possessions to my name but a small silver rowboat. But as John Lennon said, life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.

There was a formative moment for me when I had been working for Andersen Consulting (now Accenture) for about 6 months, and wanted to move into a different subdivision within the consultancy. “Oh no, you can’t do that,” I was told. “All your experience is in this area. It’s rather late to change your mind now.”

Already typecast at the age of 21? It didn’t seem right.

In fact, the people I most admire, the ones who appear to have got the most fun and fulfillment out of life, they all seem to have had several incarnations in one lifetime. They had tried all kinds of things, relishing the challenge of reinventing themselves – no matter what their age.

So that’s what I hope to do. For now I am an ocean rower using my adventures to campaign for the environment. For the future. who knows? Time for plenty more reinventions yet!

Other stuff:

Position at 2140 1st August Pacific Time, 0440 2nd August UTC: 23 58.612′N, 140 42.568′W.

Conditions were calmer than forecast today – wind almost non-existent this morning, heralding a hot afternoon with only the barest wisp of wind. Only this evening did it start freshening to something more respectable – I have no problem accepting a bit of wind assistance!

Chris Martin: a question: you said “Give it some beans” the other day, and now that phrase is stuck in my head and it’s annoying me because I don’t know what it means. Well, I know what it means, but not why beans means what it means. Know what I mean?! Why beans?

Antti – best wishes for your wedding, and for a happy future life!

Rod – glad the pecan pie is fuelling some serious workouts!

Well done to all the greenies – Rochelle, Dana, Karyn, Peter, Gene, Humphrey – and especially Roger. Great story!

WANT TO RECEIVE PRIORITY UPDATES? SIGN UP FOR THE NEWSLETTER! We now have a facility for you to sign up for a newsletter. At the moment it goes out once a week, on Thursdays, and after a short message gives you a list of links to the week’s blogs. In the “off-season”, while I’m not on the ocean, it will go out every couple of months with any important news or a general update. If you’d like to sign up, go to my Home page, and down at the bottom you’ll find a box labeled: “Sign up to the Roz Savage newsletter, just enter your email address:”

But most importantly, the people on the mailing list will receive information about arrival and events in Hawaii, which may not appear on the blog. So if you are interested, please sign up now.

Click here to view Day 68 of the Atlantic Crossing 7 February 7 2006: The Rhythm of Life – a day’s routine.

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Today has been a good day on board the good ship Brocade. I’ve passed a significant milestone, and I now have a clean bottom (!).

The wind dropped this morning and the ocean was relatively calm, so I made the most of the opportunity to scrub off the strip of barnacles that I hadn’t been able to reach from the cockpit. Even though conditions were favourable, I always feel vulnerable when I go overboard, so I stripped off and hopped in before I had a chance to think about it too much. (This strategy works well in all kinds of situations – e.g.bungy jumps, breaking bad news, going for a long run – really anything you want to get accomplished but don’t relish the task itself.)

It only took me a few minutes with my paint-stripping tool to evict my unwanted hitchhikers – and then about twice as long to struggle back over the gunwales and into the cockpit, but I succeeded eventually and inelegantly.

So I now had a nice clean hull – and a bath into the bargain. Both very good for morale, so even if the removal of the barnacles only has a marginal effect on boat speed, the energy boost from being shipshape again may have added a fraction of a knot to today’s progress.

This afternoon, to my great satisfaction, I passed 140 degrees West. I can’t say exactly why I place so much more importance on this milestone than on the half-way mark. Maybe it is because I have marked up the lines of longitude on the whiteboard in front of my rowing position – 4 columns of 9 numbers, and 140 degrees lies at the bottom of the second column, i.e. halfway as far as longitude goes, ignoring latitude. And because these numbers are in front of me all day, every day, they are my way of measuring my progress. Anyway, it felt really good to cross that number off my list – and celebrate with an extra Larabar in addition to my daily ration.

And even better, I discovered I had made a mistake in my rolling averages – my rough-and-ready way of estimating an ETA – and the error was in my favour. This was very good news. It made me think back to the disheartening day on the Atlantic when I had the opposite experience – discovering I had mis-plotted the position of Antigua by one degree, giving me an extra and unexpected 58 nautical miles to row.

So I’m feeling very cheery this evening and am starting to daydream of arrival in Hawaii – but I can’t afford to let my guard down or slacken off my oaring efforts. When I did the Atlantic there was a crew of two unfortunate men who capsized a mere 180 miles from Antigua. The boat refused to self-right and they had to be rescued.

It ain’t over til it’s over!

Other stuff:

Position at 2200 31st July Pacific Time, 0500 1st August UTC: 24 01.838′N, 140 10.624′W.

Woohoo!

Rick Shema (Weatherguy) describes Roz now as a “three digit midget” – she has under a thousand nautical miles to go! 992 nm. another cause for rejoicing.

On to the messages..

Sindy – an offer of a massage and/or spa day? You read my mind!! There is nothing I would love (or need!) more when I get to Hawaii. Although I pity the poor beauty therapist who has to confront my unwaxed legs, unkempt hair, and callused hands!

Mike – funny to think of you listening to the podcasts while mowing lawns – your world is so different from mine! You green, me blue.

Thanks to Gregg for a great message. That would be wonderful if you would post a printout of my blog at your work station. You never know what effect it might have on somebody.

Hi also to Bev, DogsDontPurr, Keizo, Gregg, John, Kirk (I already get up before dawn – but will try to remember to look out for the meteor shower on the 12th.)

And a special hello to Minette and Daisy – Minette, you would not be proud of my grooming at the moment. I have never felt so Savage in my life!

Click here to view [513469*Day 68 of the Atlantic Crossing%b] 6 February 2006: Black Monday – another broken oar.

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Mum has now written two guest blogs on this site – now I’m going to turn the tables and write about her.

She has had a lot to put up with over the last 4 years (or last 40 years, some might say). It was August 2004 when I decided I was going to row across the Atlantic. This news would probably never be welcome to any loving mother, but my timing was especially bad as my father had just had a stroke and would die six weeks later. He had been a hale and hearty seventy-four when struck down, and it had come as a shock to all of us to lose him so swiftly.

Mum and I may well have become close anyway, in the aftermath of Dad’s death, but once she came round to the idea of my ocean-going adventure, the project itself helped to bring us closer still. She was my most stalwart supporter during my voyage, the one person to whom I could pour out my heart through all the ups and downs, the doubts and fears, the trials and tribulations, and know that she would carry on loving me and supporting me regardless.

We were a close family as I was growing up. Mum and Dad were both Methodist preachers, so we moved house every few years. It was tough on me and my younger sister, being torn away from our schoolfriends each time we moved, but it did engender adaptability, self-sufficiency and independence, and also forged strong family bonds.

But then once I left home to go to Oxford University and then to start a career in London, I saw less of my parents. They often lived far away, and I had a busy urban life. It was only when I went through my radical mid-life change of direction that I became closer to them again, maybe looking to them for clues as to my own identity and life purpose.

There are certain traits of my parents that I can now see in myself – and maybe it’s a sign of maturity, but now, rather than being horrified by any similarities, I am generally proud of my genetic inheritance. Mum gave me my wanderlust, tenacity, and “justdoitiveness”. She has these in spades. From Dad, my love of books, an ability to dream big, and his mantra: “Whatever you do, put your whole heart into it.”

But what I thank Mum most for is her unconditional love, and her willingness to support me in whatever I choose to do. I don’t have children myself, but I imagine it must be very difficult to stand by and watch a daughter who seems to “have it all”, throw it all away to row a small boat across oceans. Not only has Mum refrained from interfering, but she has supported me all the way, somehow fitting in her shore manager duties around her own busy life.

I am very proud of her, and honoured to be her daughter. I can’t wait to see her in Hawaii.

[photo: Mum takes the weight off her feet on a luggage cart in Las Vegas, May 2008]

Other stuff:

Position at 2130 30th July Pacific Time, 0430 31st July UTC: 24 01.945′N, 139 35.290′W.

The last couple of nights have been very bouncy, making sleep fitful. But the wind seems to be decreasing slightly tonight, so I hope to catch a few more zzz’s. I’ve actually been surprised that I’ve got as much sleep as I have – when I wake up the boat is being slapped around quite energetically by the waves, and I can only presume it’s been like that most of the night, so it’s been a miracle that a light sleeper like me has managed to get any sleep at all – although I guess I’ve been pretty tired after a hard day’s rowing!

Thanks for the great messages – always a good way to round off my day, when I retreat to my cabin and pick up my emails.

Sarah O – always a pleasure to hear from you, especially – happy, bouncy emails! Please pass on my huge thanks to your mum for the socks. They were FANTASTIC in the early, chilly stages of the row. Deep joy. HSS – sorry to hear about your lettuces. One good thing about the ocean – no slugs and no bugs! Chris Martin – congrats on moving over to Good Energy.

And to anyone else in the UK – if you haven’t already, moving to Good Energy (or similar) surely has to be the easiest ever way to reduce your carbon footprint. You know it makes sense!

I am sure there must be similar schemes in the US, for buying your electricity from a company that uses only renewable sources like wind and sun. Any suggestions or recommendations? Post a comment and I’ll put them up on the blog.

Shine on!

Click here to view Day 67 of the Atlantic Crossing He Who Would an Ocean Rower Be – reply to those envying Roz.

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“I learned a lot on the Atlantic about how NOT to row an ocean. I finished safely and successfully, but psychologically I gave myself a much tougher time than I needed to. I’ve learned the lessons and I want to put them to the test.”
Roz Savage

In 2008 Roz Savage embarked on a voyage to become the first woman to row solo across the Pacific Ocean. Roz hopes her record-breaking attempt will highlight the vital importance of marine conservation and the scale of the crisis facing the world’s oceans.

While at sea, Roz will use state-of-the-art technology to transmit video blogs and podcasts from her boat to shore, informing and enlightening everyone from school kids to seniors about the world’s oceans.

“Since the before the Atlantic row, I’d always intended to row the Pacific Ocean,” explains Roz. “I believe that if you don’t keep pushing the boundaries, your comfort zone will become smaller and smaller until you’re effectively shrink-wrapped; you can’t achieve anything, you can’t grow. So I keep on pushing, keep on developing, adapting and showing what an ordinary person can do when they put their heart, mind and soul into it.”

Roz’s Pacific crossing will happen in three stages, beginning in Summer 2008:

• Stage 1, 2008: San Francisco to Hawaii. 2,324 statute miles, course 247 degrees. (Completed)
• Stage 2, 2009: Hawaii to Tuvalu. 2,620 statute miles, course 224 degrees.
• Stage 3, 2010: Tuvalu to Australia. 2,324 statute miles, course 252 degrees.

Today I saw a piece of debris – not a lot, just a flat piece of painted wood drifting by about 15 feet from my boat. I have been asked if I’ve been surprised not to see more debris than the two or three pieces I’ve reported – and the answer is no, not really.

The first reason is that while I row I have a (relatively) great big cabin in front of me, blocking most of my view. I can of course look out from the sides of the cockpit, but that tends to muck up my rowing (as any crew rower can tell you, you’re not supposed to look at your oar!) so I tend to keep my eyes on the compass between my feet, and for much of the day I’m lost in the world of my audiobook. So there could be all kinds of exciting things going on alongside me, and I’d be totally oblivious.

Second, I’m not in the worst part of the ocean for debris. The North Pacific Garbage Patch, allegedly the size of Texas, is north of my current position in the centre of the North Pacific Gyre – the “eye” in the huge circulatory system of winds and currents that spans the Pacific north of the equator. I knew before I set out that if I found myself in the middle of the NPGP something would have gone horribly wrong with my navigation!

But the third reason is the most worrying. The last time I saw pollution in the ocean was on a dead calm day. The surface of the water was as calm as a millpond. And there, drifting around near the surface, like motes of dust in a sunbeam, were tiny pieces of unidentifiable flotsam. They definitely weren’t animal, vegetable or mineral, so they were almost certainly manmade, and very likely plastic.

It’s these tiny little bits and pieces of plastic that are the insidious invaders in the ocean ecosystem. Small creatures mistake them for food and eat them. The plastic can’t be digested or excreted, so it sits in their digestive system, leaking its deadly load of toxins into their bodies. These small creatures get eaten by slightly larger creatures and so on up the food chain, the plastics and the toxins accumulating at every stage.

Until we get to the top of the food chain – humans.

My father was from Yorkshire, and they have a traditional song there called On Ilkley Moor Baht ‘At (meaning “without a hat”) – which follows this logic (with huge apologies to all Yorkshirepeople for losing the accent and flavour of the original, but I’m trying to make it comprehensible to all): If you go on Ilkley Moor without a hat, you’ll catch your death of cold. Then we shall have to bury thee. Then worms will come and eat thee up. Then ducks will come and eat up worms. Then we shall come and eat up ducks. Then we shall all have eaten thee.

And that’s what’s happening with the plastic. We throw it “away” (except of course there is no such thing as “away”) – and eventually it comes back to us on our plates.

Shopping bag chowder, anybody?

Other stuff:

Position at 2130 29th July Pacific Time, 0430 30th July UTC: 24 01.189′N, 139 02.119′W.

Yes, I’ve crossed another line of longitude, and the milestone of 140 degrees West is just around the (metaphorical) corner. The Golden Gate Bridge is at 122 degrees West, and Oahu is at 158 degrees West, which puts 140 slap bang in the middle Westerly-wise. Exciting!

Meanwhile, I also have to keep an eye on my North/South-iness (latitude). So I’m still rowing across the waves from the NE, in a bid to stay on course for Hawaii. This makes for regular swamping waves. I’ve had to bail out the water from the footwell 3 times today, which is a bit tedious, but not as tedious as missing Hawaii would be!

Thanks for all the terrific messages of support and good humour. Thanks especially to: Deb Caughron for the donation – please say hi from me to all the teachers and students at Woodberry! John H – I am so impressed. 21 hours of beach cleanup done, 19 to go. I hope that other readers of this site will be inspired by your example! Karyn – no, I don’t do celestial navigation. I know how, but the GPS is much more time-efficient. And the sun, moon and stars have been hiding behind clouds most of my time out here. Thank heavens for technology! Roger F – you read my mind! Already trying to figure out how I can look presentable on arrival when I haven’t been able to get my legs waxed for 3 months. Jan – thanks for sharing your story about Ryan. I am so sorry for your loss, and admire your positive attitude. Also Caro, Bev, Robert, Laetitia, M, Ken (the ex-lurker!), Jan (will try to answer your question in the podcast Q&A on Saturday), Jim, Sharon, Russell and Gene.

Click here to view Day 66 of the Atlantic Crossing 4 February 2006: Tiny Little and Eddy Large – of wind and currents.

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“I learned a lot on the Atlantic about how NOT to row an ocean. I finished safely and successfully, but psychologically I gave myself a much tougher time than I needed to. I’ve learned the lessons and I want to put them to the test.”
Roz Savage

In 2008 Roz Savage embarked on a voyage to become the first woman to row solo across the Pacific Ocean. Roz hopes her record-breaking attempt will highlight the vital importance of marine conservation and the scale of the crisis facing the world’s oceans.

While at sea, Roz will use state-of-the-art technology to transmit video blogs and podcasts from her boat to shore, informing and enlightening everyone from school kids to seniors about the world’s oceans.

“Since the before the Atlantic row, I’d always intended to row the Pacific Ocean,” explains Roz. “I believe that if you don’t keep pushing the boundaries, your comfort zone will become smaller and smaller until you’re effectively shrink-wrapped; you can’t achieve anything, you can’t grow. So I keep on pushing, keep on developing, adapting and showing what an ordinary person can do when they put their heart, mind and soul into it.”

Roz’s Pacific crossing will happen in three stages, beginning in Summer 2008:

• Stage 1, 2008: San Francisco to Hawaii. 2,324 statute miles, course 247 degrees. (Completed)
• Stage 2, 2009: Hawaii to Tuvalu. 2,620 statute miles, course 224 degrees.
• Stage 3, 2010: Tuvalu to Australia. 2,324 statute miles, course 252 degrees.

One of the questions in Saturday’s podcast Q&A has got me
reflecting on how my boat really is a perfect little unit of
self-sufficiency. The solar panels provide more than enough electricity
for my needs, if my watermaker was working I would have an endless
supply of water, and if I decided to fish I would have an endless supply
of food.

Even as it is, if I absolutely stuffed the boat to the gunwales, I could
easily pack enough food for a couple of years – I’ve got two completely
empty hatches, several others that have plenty of room to spare, and the
fore cabin is nowhere near full.

And by sprouting my own beans (see photo) I can produce enough fresh
vegetables to ward off scurvy, for very little overhead in terms of
space, time and water.

If I wanted to I could stay out here almost indefinitely – but it
wouldn’t be much of a life.

But the take-home message from this, literally, is just how viable
energy self-sufficiency and low-impact living are becoming. As I
mentioned in the podcast on Saturday, solar panels have come a long way,
so the payback period is now sufficiently short to make them an
attractive proposition. A couple of examples:

– Mike Klayko, CEO of my title sponsors Brocade, is fitting solar
panels to his new house – not out of environmental concern (although
that helps) but mostly because it makes financial sense
– Even in supposedly rainy old England, my mother has solar panels
on the roof of her house in Yorkshire – not the kind that generate
electricity, but the kind that heat water – and they work a treat and
save her a substantial amount on her utility bills.

I’ve had surprisingly little sunshine out here on the Pacific, but even
on dull days, and even with the limited amount of space I have available
for mounting solar panels, I’ve got oodles of electricity. (For the
detail-minded, I’ve got 4 x 60W semi-flexible panels on the aft cabin,
and 2 x 30W flexible panels on the fore cabin.)

If I had a home, I would seriously be looking at solar power. And if I
had a home in a sunny place, I could even sell back my surplus
electricity to the power companies and make a profit.

Definitely there’s good financial sense in self-sufficiency!

Other stuff:

Position at 2145 28th July Pacific Time, 0445 29th July UTC: 24
08.209′N, 138 25.306′W.

A different perspective – here
is a blog written by one of the researchers I met as I rowed past
the Farralone Islands back in May..

And now (as they say on the TV) for some messages:

Robert – good luck! Be sure to check out the section on my website
(under Adventure) on How To Row An Ocean.

Markus – great to hear from you at last. I’d been wondering! Love to you
and Eleanor.

Oops, laptop battery about to go flat. Will sign off now so I can plug
in to recharge using all that lovely free electricity!

Click here to view Day 65 of the Atlantic Crossing 3 February 2006: Ocean Rowing and What it Does to a Girl’s Looks – about weight and suntan.

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This is what my weatherguy wrote to me in his daily email yesterday, comparing where I am now to my wiggly meander down the coast of California and Mexico. I only wish I could see it myself on my chartplotter (not working) or on Marinetrack (not accessible from the boat) so I could appreciate the progress for myself.

But it also got me thinking about some major progress of a different kind. If you’d have told me ten years ago that I’d have rowed the Atlantic and be part way across the Pacific, I’d have told you that you were crazy. I was 30 years old, just another office worker, unmotivated, lacking in self-esteem, with no sense of drive or purpose. There was a faint feeling that there was something missing. I just wasn’t that kind of a person to undertake what could be a dangerous expedition. Only brave and adventurous people did that kind of thing.

And although there have been a few moments of “life vertigo” along the way, when I suddenly look down and wonder how my life got to be this way, generally the progress has been without terror or stress – in fact, as my life has become more in tune with my core values, my stress levels have decreased.

Most of the changes have been incremental, each one providing a stepping stone to the next. And it’s amazing just how much you can achieve, how far you can travel, how much you can change your life, when you take it in baby steps.

One stroke at a time!

Other stuff:

Position at 2130 27th July Pacific Time, 0430 28th July UTC: 24 17.170′N, 137 46.659′W.

Conditions today have been rough, but otherwise not bad at all. Lots of sunshine early in the day, but with enough clouds passing over from time to time to stop me getting too hot in my waterproof jacket – my guard against saltwater and sun. The wind has been brisk and from the NE, so it’s all good!

Thanks for the nice comments about my progress and course. It’s nice to know you’re keeping an eye on me, and that my efforts at the oars are recognized. It’s a tough stage at the moment – so many days at sea, but so many still to go – the encouraging comments are most welcome. In common with most people, I appreciate being appreciated!

A message for Sarah Outen: yup, do what you need to the oars. We’ll sort out the finances when we meet over that G&T. OS sleeping bag superb. Have removed one of the layers of fleece as I’ve headed south into (marginally) warmer climes. Metabolic Conditioning sounds daunting – you can do 100 pull ups?! Flippin’ heck!!

Click here to view Day 64 of the Atlantic Crossing 2 February 2006 Magnificent Absurdity – about rowing at night.

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I dream a lot when I am at sea – something to do with the constant rocking, and my sleep being occasionally interrupted by a particularly large wave slamming into the side of the boat. Most of the dreams – as on dry land – are random rehashes of recent experiences and memories, but once in a while there’s a different kind of dream – exceptionally vivid, that seems to bear more significance. A couple of nights ago I had one of these dreams.

I was on a beautiful beach with a group of friends, and we decided to go swimming. We dived down under the waves into an amazing underwater world. There were sea urchins and fishes and all manner of marine creatures, each one a myriad of colours and textures and incredibly gorgeous in its own way. I was wearing no scuba gear or snorkel, but was able to breathe easily and simply look around me and marvel at all the natural beauty.

It was a bit crowded underwater, with lots of swimmers, but I assumed that this was just because we were close to the beach, and that it would thin out as we swam further.

But then we reached a sign, saying “No Through Road” and we were funneled upwards, out of the water, to a staircase that led up into a depressing shopping mall. We had to sit on a jetty just outside the mall to wait for a ferry to take us back to the beach. Some of the people were eating fish (!) while they waited, and appeared to see nothing wrong with this scenario, but I was disappointed and appalled. It seemed that my amazing diving experience had been nothing more than the marine equivalent of a Disney ride, and that most of these people were oblivious as to the connection between what we had just seen underwater, and what they were now eating.

When I woke up, the memory of the dream was still unusually strong, and I had the feeling that the dream was a reminder of what my message is and why I am here. After having struggled through the last few days, with disappointing mileages and uncomfortable conditions, it was just what I needed to remotivate me.

It reminded me of a thought I had when I was invited on a safari in Tanzania 18 months ago. The safari, although we saw some wonderful things, also made me very sad. It made me wonder when the world changed from being a few human habitations surrounded by wilderness, to being a few bubbles of preserved wilderness surrounded by human habitations.

I do hope that we never end up in a situation where the oceans are as dominated and exploited by humans as the land, and where a few isolated marine sanctuaries are the only places where ocean life survives. But I fear that unless we take action, and soon, we are heading that way.

Other stuff:

Position at 2130 26th July Pacific Time, 0430 27th July UTC: 24 19.863′N, 137 09.350′W.

[Photo: barnacles on the Brocade. They are not as bad as they look - this is just a narrow band of barnacles along the waterline. Covered by the water in this shot is the start of the antifoul paint that coats the bottom of my hull, which is still as smooth as a baby's bottom!]

Conditions today have been rather more rower-friendly. For the last few days it has been like rowing through treacle, to the extent that I even checked the rudder to make sure I hadn’t accidentally picked up a stray fishing net or other bit of flotsam. Each stroke felt like a weightlifting exercise. But today was considerably better, and my rate of progress has gone back to more like “normal” in the trade winds.

Thanks from both me and Mum for all the great comments – especially in response to Mum’s blog.. She is doing a great job and I’m very proud of her!

Glad that people are enjoying the podcasts. I also really enjoy my thrice-weekly chats with Leo. He is always so cheery and positive that even when I am having a lousy day our phone calls cheer me up. Thanks, Leo, and also to all the people who download the podcasts or tune in to watch them live on TwitTV.

Click here to view Day 63 of the Atlantic Crossing February 1 2006 Day 63: Life on Mars. Roz selects some favourite adventurers.

Do take a look at http://losfarallones.blogspot.com/ describing their encounter with Roz at the beginning of her Pacific row.

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Zillion TV has generously come on board to sponsor my sea anchor – one of the most important devices on board the Brocade, both as a safety device to stabilize the boat in rough conditions, and as a navigation aid to mitigate backwards drift.

About ZillionTV

ZillionTV is headquartered in Santa Clara, California with offices in Santa Monica, California. For more information, visit www.zilliontv.tv

Other stuff:

Position at 2130 25th July Pacific Time, 0430 26th July UTC: 24 17.359′N, 136 35.447′W.

Progress still slow – today I checked out the barnacle situation to see if that was the cause. There is a line of gooseneck barnacles just along the waterline – I scraped off all I could reach from the cockpit, it being way too rough to go overboard – but the antifoul is doing its job and the hull is still completely clean from the waterline down. So still no explanation for the decreased rate of progress, as I’m putting in just as many hours at the oars. I’ll just keep ploddin’ along, and hope to row my way out of trouble.

The weather has been in a very fickle mood today. Rain, sun, high winds, no wind – it’s been hard to keep up. I don’t have a large range of garments on board, and I’ve been through just about my entire ocean wardrobe today – windjacket, waterproof, t-shirt, nothing..

I had a pretty amazing dream last night. I don’t usually read too much into dreams, but this one was special.. But I don’t want to sell it cheap, so I’ll save it and tell you about it tomorrow. Teaser!

Thanks for all the messages – and thanks EVEN MORE to the people who are spreading the word among their friends, families and colleagues and getting them to check out the blog and/or podcasts as well. It all helps to spread the environmental message and save the oceans! Always remember: IF WE PULL TOGETHER, WE CAN MAKE A WORLD OF DIFFERENCE!

Chris Martin – sorry to confess this, but I don’t know how to play Mornington Crescent. Give me a clue!

Tom Johnson – wow, sounds like a great trip! A real life Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance! Wish I could come too!

Thanks also to Geri, Carol Mone and Jacob (best wishes in your new home!! – and yes, I’d love to be involved in a party when I get back!), Mike Milzz, Nevada Bev (do you know how I would contact Joan Ocean – is that her real name?!), Ed (yes, I’m hoping to get back in touch with Steve Roberts when I get back to dry land), Greg, Brayden, Dylan Also to Sarah, Bill, Jack and Grace. And to Noelle – and her friend Xenia at Brocade. I didn’t actually meet Xenia – but there were 900 delegates when I spoke at the sales conference! Sindy, John, Cheryl, Karyn, Tod ,Carol, and all the regulars.

And a special hello to Sarah Outen, aka Outey, preparing to row across the Indian Ocean. Can’t wait to see your boat when I get back! I’ll be in the UK in November and would love to come to your and Alex’s talk at St Hugh’s – what date is it? And yes, up for the documentary, too. And of course you can borrow the oars. Be my guest!

And thanks to Allan for his Google Earth script (not sure if someone else had already done something similar?) – see http://allanville.com/rozrows/map.kml.php (should automatically open in Google Earth, otherwise add this as a network link in GE) It is live updated, you can when I was at each position, and if you play the timeline in Google Earth you can apparently get a pretty good impression of how the progress been.

Click here to view Day 62 of the Atlantic Crossing 31 january 2006: Of James Cracknell’s Bottom and Others.

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I feel that I am really being encouraged to do another blog on Roz’s website – after several flattering comments and requests. One request was for more on family history. So, just a little peek into Roz’s ancestry. Her maternal great-grandparents emigrated from Holland to South Africa in the second half of the 19th century. More ocean voyagers.
Roz and I seem to be accumulating another sort of family – all you chaps out there, living alongside of us through this voyage. Great to see names that I recognise coming up from time to time in emails, comments and donations. You do begin to feel like family.
Keeping up with Roz has taught me many new things. Somebody described me today as becoming quite “techy”. When Roz was on the Atlantic I was thrown in at the deep end, having to learn very quickly. One challenge was how to read the symbols on the weather charts on the internet. If I said that the wind was a North Easterley it was for some strange reason called a South Westerley. If only we had known Rick Shema then.
When Roz was hit by a freak wave and the boat rolled, she sent an urgent message asking me to write a blog for her and upload it. When the panic subsided I dug out her notes and had a go. Quite exciting to see it actually appear on the internet. Since then technology and communications have advanced and Roz is trying to drag me along into further unknown waters. Still occasional moments of panic as I get to grips with Youtube, videoblogs, Facebook and the rest of those weird and wonderful things that Roz uses.
I am not complaining. I enjoy the challenge, and only too pleased to be able to support Roz in any way that I can. I am beginning to wonder what I will do with my time when she is not on the ocean. And I will miss reading all the messages that you lovely folk send. Rita Savage.

Position at 2115, 24th July PST, 0415 25th July UTC: 24 20.075′N, 136
11.684′W.

Click here to view Day 61 of the Atlantic Crossing 30 January 2006: Of Toasted Mars Bar Sandwiches and Sporting Glories.

(Picture: The sort of weather chart that I struggled to interpret.)

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Sailors are notoriously superstitious. I try not to be, because it can lead to just another dimension of anxiety that I don’t need, but at the same time I try not to tempt fate by making assumptions.

Yesterday I made an exception, and started working out an estimate of how many days to Hawaii. The columns in my notebook are:

Line of longitude (starting at 130 degrees West) Date (that I crossed the line of longitude) Days (how many days it took me to get to that line of longitude from the previous one) Cumulative days (again, starting from 130 degrees West) Average days per degree of longitude (i.e. cumulative days divided by number of degrees since 130 degrees West)

Then I take this average and multiply it by the number of degrees still to go to Hawaii (at 158 degrees West) to give me my estimated number of days still to go. At the moment it stands at 40 days, for an arrival date in late August.

Of course, no sooner had I done that than my rate of progress slowed dramatically – for reasons unknown. Although wind conditions have been fairly constant the last few days, my rate of progress while rowing has slowed from approximately 2.5 knots, to 2 knots, to 1.5 knots. This is rather disheartening, and it’s tempting – although not very satisfying – to blame it on my premature ETA calculations. I would much prefer that it had a rational reason, like an adverse current or a contrary swell or the fallout from a tropical storm, which would at least reassure me that things will change.

I’m trying to keep a course due West in order to give myself the best possible chance of hitting Hawaii. Ideally I don’t want to get south of the islands (at 21 degrees N). But this has made it tough going on the rowing (I’m a poet and I didn’t know it!) because I’m fighting my way across the waves, It is difficult to get both oars in the water at the same time, and the boat has felt unbelievably heavy, every stroke like lifting a dead weight.

But, I tell myself, it’s better than the alternative – if I get too far south I could miss Hawaii altogether, which would be, errr, a real bummer!

[photo: still smiling - just!]

Other stuff:

Position at 2000 23rd July Pacific Time, 0300 24th July UTC: 24 22.240′N, 135 47.804′W.

Thanks and hellos to: Jennifer, Louise, Gene, Kirk, Erin, Pippa, Rod (fraid that pecan pie is going to be well burned by the time I get to Oz!), Brian (do let me know if you find any useful info on waterproofing marine electrics), Nevada Bev (thanks for doing my partying for me! Looking forward to my own glass of bubbly when I reach Hawaii.), Andrew in NYC (you’ll know the answer when it hits you – it took me a while), Caro (do have a word with Father Pacific if you have any influence!), John and Patricia (yes, I do log actual hours rowed), Ami (good luck in the marathon!), Andy (sorry about not always posting a photo – I do prefer to send one, but there are only so many things you can photograph on a 23-foot boat surrounded by sea and sky!), John H (way too rough for hull-scrubbing at the moment! last time I was overboard it was still smooth as a baby’s bottom.), Jamie (I have a HUGE medical kit, containing everything from aspirin to scalpels), Rochelle (body doing a bit less well at the moment – getting a lot of bruises in these rough conditions!), Buck, Mitch, Jacob, Barth, Michael, and Jan (so sorry to hear about your loss – my thoughts are with you).

And a special hello to Michelle Urquhart, with thanks for the inspiring message and the Maori encouragement: E tutaki ana nga kapua o te rangi, kei rung ate Mangoroa e kopae pu ana. Courage friend – The clouds in the sky close over, but above them spreads the Milky Way.

Also special thanks to Chris Martin, whose regular words of encouragement help keep me going – as does the memory of his own fantastic justdoitiveness during the Atlantic Rowing Race 2005. Chris – I refilled my empty water ballast containers today, in a tribute to you!

Click here to view Day 60 of the Atlantic Crossing 29 January 2006: The Longest Day – changing time zones.

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I almost wish I was on dry land, just so I could check out all the cool things that are happening around this website – I can’t see them from here!

When I get back to dry land, I’m especially looking forward to checking out the podcasts. If you’re following the blog but haven’t clued in to the podcasts, you might want to go to Twitlive.tv and take a look. I thoroughly enjoy my thrice-weekly chats with Leo Laporte, and you may enjoy adding another dimension to your Pacific-rowing-by-proxy experience.

I haven’t been able to watch them myself, but apparently if you check in while we are recording (10am PST, or 6pm BST on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays) you can actually see Leo sitting in his studio, talking to me, along with all the comments and questions coming in from the chatroom. My mother just discovered this a week ago, and she’s hooked!

Plus, you can get a FREE audiobook from audible.com, (I suspect that this only applies to people in the USA – Rita.) AND by downloading the podcasts you help me raise funds to finance the next stage of my row. See the bottom of this blog for details.

I was introduced to Leo last summer by his long-term friend Bill Chayes, who is the producer of our Pacific rowing/environmental documentary. We, and assorted others, were guests of Bill and his wife Michelle for dinner at their beautiful arts-and-crafts home in the rolling golden countryside outside of Petaluma, close to California’s wine country. We had a wonderful meal sitting outside at a table on the deck, eating and drinking and chatting. (Ahhhh, how I LONG for an evening like that right now – nothing I like better than a good dinner party.. But I’m 1300 miles and at least 40 days away from any opportunity..)

And Leo was sufficiently interested in what I was doing to offer to do a regular series of podcasts with me. I have to confess, I didn’t really know who Leo was at the time, but now I’ve been in North America for a bit longer I am starting to appreciate just what a lucky break this was. Leo has introduced me to a whole new audience via the podcasts and Twitter, as well as securing sponsorship from audible.com.

So what this means is that the more people that download the podcasts, the more audible.com pay as part of the sponsorship arrangement. And when you sign up, you can get a free audiobook. I listen nonstop to audiobooks while I row – Leo gave me an iPod loaded with 323 books that I’m steadily munching my way through – and during our podcasts he always asks me what I’m “reading”. So you can even listen to the same book I’m listening to, and share my experience in a whole new way!

Other stuff

Position at 2100 22nd July Pacific Time, 0400 23rd July UTC: 24 28.173′N, 135 24.224′W.

Conditions the same as for the last few days – grey, chilly, windy and rough. I shall say no more in case I lapse into grumbles. I should be pleased that I am making good progress, and not mind about being constantly wet, salty, and bounced around. But it’s sometimes easier said than done. Only those audiobooks are helping me through it – today, on Leo’s recommendation, I listened to The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennette – excellent!

It’s good to be past halfway, but last night I did feel a little bit lonely. My weatherguy was most insistent that I had to have a halfway party. I looked around my boat. No company. No treat foods left. No bottles of anything interesting. Not much to start a party with at all. I briefly considered making some party decorations out of the silver wrappers from my expedition meals, but then gave up and went to bed. I will make up for it by partying extra hard when I get to Hawaii.

Thanks again for all the messages – especially to Margo, my East Coast enviro-sister! Looking forward to re-toasting with a glass of red wine next time I see you.

Thanks also to Jenny at KWMR – would love to get together for an interview once I’ve delivered the message in a bottle to the Hawaiian Islands Sanctuary. You’re on!

And to Jim, John, Chris, Rod, Currin (why is everybody telling me about what delicious wines they’re using to toast my progress?! Making me envious!!), Eric, Karyn, Rodli, Tim, Toni, Gene and Sindy.

Click here to view Day 59 of the Atlantic Crossing 28 january 2006: Fishy Business – flying fish, that is.

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(Picture: Graphic kindly provided by Rick Shema – Weatherguy – of Roz’s route so far, and wind conditions. For a larger view, go to Roz’s Smugmug gallery and click on Sea Scenes and double click on the graphic. To get to Smugmug, click the icon above right – the little black box with a green grin.)

When I am in London, I often stay with my friends Sam and Ella. I’ve known Sam for nearly 20 years now, since our days at Thames Rowing Club, and during that time he has excelled at all kinds of sports, including sculling (Diamond Sculls at Henley), marathons (sub 3-hours in this year’s London Marathon), triathlons, 4-man luge, and motor car racing.

Near their front door, they have this poem hanging on the wall in a frame. I haven’t actually asked Sam if it inspires him in his athletic endeavours – but I know it does the trick for me!

If you think you are beaten, you are. If you think you dare not, you don’t. If you’d like to win, but don’t think you can It’s almost certain you won’t.

If you think you’ll lose, you’ve lost, For out of the world you’ll find Success begins with a fellow’s will. It’s all in the state of mind.

If you think you’re outclassed, you are. You’ve got to think high to rise. You’ve got to be sure of yourself before You can ever win a prize.

Life’s battles don’t always go To the stronger or faster man, But sooner or later the man who wins Is the one who thinks he can.

Obviously I’d prefer a more gender-neutral version, but then it wouldn’t rhyme or scan. But the point remains that self-belief is an amazingly powerful attribute.

For my first month on the Atlantic I was beset by doubts. What on earth had I been thinking? What had made me think I could do this?

And then I realized that, despite all my doubts, I was 1000 miles into it and actually yes, not only COULD I do it, but in fact I WAS doing it.

And of course now, having done it once, I’ve got reason to believe that I can do it again.

My point is that the first time you do something new and challenging, it’s a leap of faith. You’ve got no reason to believe you can do it, because you’ve never done it before. But there’s only one way to find out if you can – and that is to try.

As we’ve already invented the word “justdoitiveness”, maybe what I’m describing here is “justdoitosity”!

Other stuff:

Position at 2140 21st July Pacific Time, 0440 22nd July UTC: 24 34.231′N, 134 56.615′W.

This morning I crossed the halfway point. 1304 nautical miles down, 1304 still to go. For myself, I’ll feel more like celebrating when I can cross off 140 degrees West on the list of numbers on my whiteboard. That will be the line of longitude halfway between San Francisco (122 degrees W) and Oahu (158 degrees W). Then I will really start to feel like I’ve broken the back of the journey.

I find it hard to believe that I am nearly in the tropics. For the last few days the weather has been overcast, windy and grey. But the good news about this is that it has reduced my water consumption, which almost doubled during the hotter, sunnier weather.

Even though the winds are now helping me, I need to push on, so am still rowing from 7am to 9pm every day. The rowing has been tough and rough, rowing across the waves, which regularly crash against the starboard side of the boat, splashing over me until my left side is encrusted with salt, and on occasions today eliciting some very bad language!

Thanks to all for the comments and messages. A special hello today to Noelle, Rob and Jasper in Australia. Thanks for spreading the word about my row, and I can’t wait to see you in Oz. although I’m not due there until 2010, so we have plenty of party-planning time still left!

With love and best wishes to all.

Click here to view Day 59 of the Atlantic Crossing January 27 2006, Cheerfully Miserable.

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Last night it was a full moon. Unfortunately I didn’t get to see it, as it has been overcast for several days (and nights) now. I would have loved to have seen it – one of my favourite Atlantic memories is rowing along on a calm ocean under a full moon, admiring the stars and generally feeling at one with the world.

Rowing across an ocean really does give me a sense of my place on the planet, and that planet’s place in relation to the sun, moon and stars. It’s evident, as I head west and south, how the times of sunrise and sunset (when it isn’t overcast) are shifting.

And although I don’t have a sextant on board, I had to study celestial navigation as a prerequisite for the Atlantic Rowing Race, and I can still remember enough about the subject to conjure up an approximate image of the earth turning as it circles the sun and picture how it all fits together.

There is a quote I found today on a list of inspirational quotes I’d prepared before the Atlantic, which I think comes from a Michael Crichton book:

Modern city-dwellers cannot even see the stars at night. This humbling reminder of man’s place in the grander scheme of things, which human beings formerly saw once every twenty-four hours, is denied them. It’s no wonder that people lose their bearings, that they lose track of who they really are, and what their lives are really about.

This really rings true with me. In ordinary life on dry land, I get so wrapped up in the general busy-ness and bustle, and it’s only when I get out on the ocean, or into the mountains, or otherwise into the wild, that I am reminded that in the overall span of time and space, my little life – although very important to me – is smaller than a grain of sand on a beach.

Other stuff:

Position at 2130 20th July Pacific Time, 0430 21st July UTC: 24 40.470′N, 134 19.458′W.

Within the next few hours I should cross the halfway point of my journey. I will have rowed 1304 nautical miles, and will be the same distance from Hawaii. Now that I am in the trade winds, the second half should go faster than the first half. I have to confess – I very much hope this is so!

Conditions today have been grey, cold and rough. Not really the sort of day that makes me yearn for more of the same. Thanks for all the positive vibes heading my way – either through messages, comments, or just positive thoughts!

A special note to Tim: I’ve been using my “positive, energetic, enthusiastic” mantra here on the boat, too. It’s a bit harder doing the hand gestures here though. I like to do it this way:

I am positive (fling arms out to sides) I am energetic (shoot arms forwards) I am enthusiastic (stretch arms up overhead)

And I tend to do repeat it several times, in an increasingly silly voice (especially on enthOOOOsiastic!) which at least puts a smile on my face at the start of the day!

Click here to view Day 57 of the Atlantic Crossing 26 January 2006: Sad Day on Sedna Solo – Roz finishes her favourite food.
Sedna was the name of the boat before Brocade became the main sponsor – the boat is now called Brocade.

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I don’t know the answer to this question – and I won’t put it to the test, because although I’m sure the kangaroo skin parts would disappear quite quickly (seeing as they’re half disappeared already), there are other parts of the glove like the Velcro, made from man-made materials, that would last much longer.

This got me thinking about how long it takes other items to biodegrade. As luck would have it, I happen to have here a leaflet from NOAA’s Marine Debris programme that gives some information on this very subject.

Paper towel: 2-4 weeks

Milk carton: 3 months

Plywood: 1-3 years

Cigarette filter: 1-5 years

*Plastic bag: 10-20 years

*Plastic cup: 50 years

Aluminium can: 80-200 years

*Plastic soda bottle: 450 years

Disposable diaper: 450 years

Monofilament fishing line: 600 years

In connection with the items I’ve marked with an asterisk I’d like to clarify something. This is represented by NOAA as a Degradation Timeline. This is not the same as BIO-degradation. Plastic items do break down – but they only break down into smaller and smaller pieces, and even when microscopically small these pieces still enter the food chain. In fact, they can then enter it at a lower level, so accumulate to higher levels further up – which is even worse.

The truth is that plastic is still too new an invention for us to know just how long it takes for it to disappear entirely.

This is why I (and many others) regard plastic as Public Environmental Enemy #1, the nastiest of all nasties. We just don’t know what its ultimate environmental impact is going to be, and in the meantime we continue to churn it out at prodigious rates.

Don’t get me wrong – plastic is not an evil in itself. It has many useful purposes and enables useful items to be made at affordable prices.

But it is really, really NOT a great choice for “disposable” items.

So I’ll be putting my old gloves in with the rubbish to be brought back to dry land. Especially as, unlike any of the occasional bits of food that sometimes go overboard, I can’t imagine that any of the fishies would have a use for a worn-out pair of golf gloves. (no bad jokes about fish fingers, please!)

Other stuff:

Position at 1900 19th July Pacific Time, 0200 20th July UTC: 24 56.085′N, 133 43.830′W.

Sometime in the next couple of days I should pass the halfway mark, at 134 30′W. At that point I will have rowed 1304 nautical miles, with 1304 still to go. And in theory the second half should be significantly faster, now that I’m in the trades. As my weatherguy says, from here on it’s downhill all the way!

Conditions very rough today – big rolling swells and winds over 20 knots. I’ve been rowing, but it hasn’t been much fun. I don’t enjoy seeing a big curling wave bearing down on me and knowing I’m about to get a drenching, but the thought of that halfway mark has helped keep me going.

Thanks for all the messages, from newbies and regulars alike! Thanks also to those who joined us for the Leo Laporte podcast this morning. As usual on Saturdays, it was our Q&A session, when you can ask me questions live on Twit TV (meaning is rather different in the US than in the UK!). So if I haven’t answered your question in my blogs, you might want to join us next Saturday at 1700 UTC, at twitlive.tv.

Special hi to Jez at the Royal Navy’s FWOC – thanks to you and the guys for the support and the words of encouragement. Too bad the RN won’t be able to drop in for a visit this time around!

SIGN UP FOR THE NEWSLETTER! We now have a facility for you to sign up for a newsletter. At the moment it goes out once a week, on Thursdays, and after a short message gives you a list of links to the week’s blogs. In the “off-season”, while I’m not on the ocean, it will go out every couple of months with any important news or a general update. If you’d like to sign up, go to my Home page, and down at the bottom you’ll find a box labeled: “Sign up to the Roz Savage newsletter, just enter your email address:”

Click here to view Day 56 of the Atlantic Crossing 25 January 2005 “Zen and the Art of Ocean Rowing” with a message about hope.

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Picture: Conrad Humphreys (right) at the House of Commons talking to Hilary Benn MP, London, July 14th

I am delighted tonight to feature a special guest blog by Conrad Humphreys, who has had an impressive career in competitive sailing and is the founder of the BLUE Project, for which I am a BLUE Ambassador.

This week, The BLUE Project is exhibiting at the House of Commons, ahead of the release of the first draft of the Marine Bill. Featuring BLUE Ambassadors, remarkable sports men and women like Roz who are using the immense power of their sport to inspire and motivate individuals and organisations to actively care about sustaining our water environments. The exhibition also features initiatives such as BLUE Schools, The BLUE Mile and BLUE Communities, all mechanisms for engaging individuals and organisations with our water environments.

Fair winds Roz. Conrad Humphreys Ambassador & Founder of The BLUE Project

Other stuff:

Position at 2130 18th July Pacific Time, 0430 19th July UTC: 25 04.785′N, 133 04.502′W.

About an hour ago I passed 133 degrees West. I was rather pleased about this. After my hard-scrabble day yesterday, struggling to find motivation, I had set myself an immediate target of passing 133 before 10am tomorrow. So to pass it around 8pm tonight has cheered me up no end! Thanks to the brisk winds and significant ocean swell that have given me a helping hand – although they will probably also stop me getting much sleep tonight…

Thanks also to all my marvelous cheerleaders on dry land. I’ve been reading all your comments (Mum emails them to me) and they have given me a real boost – thank you!

SIGN UP FOR THE NEWSLETTER! We now have a facility for you to sign up for a newsletter. At the moment it goes out once a week, on Thursdays, and after a short message gives you a list of links to the week’s blogs. In the “off-season”, while I’m not on the ocean, it will go out every couple of months with any important news or a general update. If you’d like to sign up, go to my Home page, and down at the bottom you’ll find a box labeled: “Sign up to the Roz Savage newsletter, just enter your email address:”

Click here to view Day 55 of the Atlantic Crossing 24 January 2006 “I’m just a girl who can’t say no” but practising.

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