Up in the air - in so many senses

We may be able to try again later in the week, but pending further visual investigation, I decided to do some research online.

Our present challenges started two years ago, long before I knew I would be doing this row, when a chunk of ice four times the size of Manhattan calved away from the Petermann Glacier in Greenland. It would be tempting to immediately attribute this breaking up of ancient glaciers to climate change, but I want to be sure of my facts before I do so. It does the cause no good to try and establish tenuous links between naturally occurring phenomena and the impacts of humankind. I haven’t had much time to research this (several years of postgraduate study would have been handy) but here is what I have managed to find out in a few short hours online.

“In response to the question: How abnormal is this event? Jason notes: “The August 2010 ice calving at Petermann is the largest in the observational record for Greenland” Falkner et al. (2011) scoured the observations and found no evidence of an event this large in scattered observations since 1876.”

“About 33 per cent of the Petersen Ice Shelf has eroded away between 2005 and 2008.”

“Issues may also arise if the ice islands make their way south into navigable waters.”

“In 2010, Greenland temperatures were the hottest on record. It also experienced record setting ice loss by melting.”

The consequences could be dramatic, and the next 10 years will be decisive. If the Greenland ice sheet were to melt, it is projected by scientists that it would create a 23 feet rise in sea level.

The local Quidi Vidi beer, made from 25,000-year-old iceberg water

The featured image on this blog is a map of Britain if sea levels were to rise by 84 metres, i.e. if all the world’s ice melted. It would be nothing more than an archipelago of islands, with London relegated to the lost realm of Atlantis. This might sound far-fetched, but in 2009 scientists were predicting that the Arctic could become ice free within as little as a decade. (Do check out the video on that page, featuring polar explorer and all round good guy Pen Hadow.) The world has been ice-free before, and it could happen again. (More information and a climate animation here.)

This is uncharted territory for humankind, so by necessity there is a certain amount of guesswork involved as to the consequences – and the causes – of our rising temperatures. But how much are we willing to gamble with the future existence of our species while we make up our minds? The worst case scenario would make our present navigational travails seem supremely insignificant by comparison.

Bojangles

On 15th April 1912, the RMS Titanic went down with the loss of 1,514 lives during her maiden voyage from Southampton to New York, the largest loss of life at sea during peacetime.

At nearly 883 feet long, the Titanic did not bear a strong resemblance to Bojangles, which measures 23 feet. Her rudder alone was 78 feet high – more than three times the length of our little Bo.

On the one hand, being small could be an advantage if it statistically reduces our chances of making contact with ice. On the other hand, the Titanic was made of one-inch-thick steel, while Bo is made of a much thinner sandwich of foam between layers of carbon/kevlar weave.

The Titanic

It was claimed that the Titanic was unsinkable, but Mother Nature has a way of making a nonsense of the hubristic claims of men. You can be sure that we will be very circumspect before launching ourselves upon a hostile North Atlantic.

Our first waypoint is 45 N, 45 W, not so far from the site where the Titanic sank

There is plenty on dry land to keep us busy. Boats seem to be perpetually a work in progress, so we continue to refine designs, tweaking scupper flaps, enhancing the oar lockers, adding a canopy to provide some shelter while we peel off foul weather gear so as not to track seawater into the cabin.

Meanwhile Naomi and I took a few hours off this afternoon to explore a bit of the north coast of Newfoundland. We left our lodgings with Harry and Diane Spurrell in sunshine, but the weather soon turned to rain showers and wind. But it was still beautiful. I’m actually very happy to have a bit more time to explore this very special place.

Roz out on a walk near Brigus, Newfoundland

By the way, in case you didn’t know, Newfoundland is not pronounced NewFOUNDland, it’s NewfoundLAND. To get it right, say “Understand Newfoundland” so that the two words rhyme, and you’ll be close enough.

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Thank you!

A bergy bit - small by local standards - lurks in Quidi Vidi cove in St John's

The last few years have been relatively ice-free in Newfoundland, but this year is making up for lost time. Ice has been reported as far south as 44 degrees north, adding an extra hazard to the Grand Banks, which already included messy wave patterns and persistent fog.

Not for the first time, I am ruing the fact that rowers face backwards. This is going to make it hard to spot ice hazards ahead. Fishing boats going out at this time of year keep a spotter on watch at all times to avoid collision with bergy bits. We won’t have that option.

We have been putting the word out locally, and as I write, Naomi our project manager is down at the harbour searching for a vessel willing to escort us for the first 150-200 miles of our voyage. Loitering around docks is no way for a nice girl to be spending her afternoon. She says she has gathered a lot of phone numbers. Maybe some of them even relate to chartering a boat!

Roz with Harry Spurrell, our host here in St John's

Sobering Statistics

Yesterday I was sitting in Bojangles’ shed with Naomi and Mos (and Bo, of course) as we discussed our safety strategies. This is top of our minds – and for good reason. If you go to the Ocean Rowing Society website, the little box at the bottom of the page that sums up the stats on Atlantic rows from West to East reads like this:

Completed: 19

Incomplete: 33

Rowers lost at sea: 5

These are sobering statistics.

Even though the Newfoundlanders have been more than living up to their reputation for friendliness and hospitality, apparently in some quarters there have been mutterings about crazy adventurers heading out on hare-brained missions, only to fail and need rescuing to the great inconvenience, cost, danger, and understandable disgruntlement of the locals.

Waves at the entrance to St John's Harbour

Later that day Mos, Naomi and I went to take a look at the ocean. Naomi drove us to the top of Signal Hill, at the mouth of St John’s Harbour. It was a beautiful day, with hazy sunshine and barely a breath of wind. As we stepped out of the car our high vantage point gave us an excellent view of the vast expanse of limpid ocean stretching away below us.

At first glance it was a gorgeous sight. With no white caps, the ocean looked almost inviting. But as we continued to look, it started to appear less friendly. A small fishing boat heading back to port laboured in the swell. Where the apparently calm sea met the land, it crashed with surprising force against the rocks at the narrow entrance to the harbour, sending up plumes of spray. Farther out to sea, a bank of fog stretched all the way across the horizon from left to right.

“Crikey,” said Mos. “Crikey. Gosh.” Which was quite restrained, I thought. Something less printable was going through my mind. Even on a perfect day like yesterday, the ocean’s power and size was inescapable.

The Good News

Having said all this, we have a better chance than most. Here are my reasons for not freaking out about our imminent embarkation upon the North Atlantic:

London 2320 miles

1. The boat: a lightweight kevlar boat with 200 pounds of lead in her hull to help stability, Bojangles has already proved her seaworthiness in challenging conditions during her 189-day voyage across the North Pacific. Mos now has the bit between his teeth and is working all the hours on Bojangles to ensure that she is even better prepared for this row. He is a real perfectionist. In this context, that is a very reassuring quality in a crewmate.

2. The crew: between us, Mos and I have logged over 580 days at sea, and covered over 18,000 miles. It is only 7 months since I got off the Indian Ocean, so my experience is still recent. Mos is 48 years old, and I am 44, so we are hardly hot-headed young turks. We both have a lot to live for – he has two young children and I have a place at Yale – and we will tap into that motivation when the going gets tough. Safety tops the list of priorities for both of us.

3. The team: two members of our support team have also rowed an ocean: program director Richard Mayon-White and UK project manager Rachel Smith. US project manager Naomi Coe is one of the most calm and competent people I have ever had the privilege to work with, and has been instrumental in getting us to the start line. Our weatherman Lee Bruce has weather-routed at least 10 ocean rowing voyages, including several out of St John’s.

But even so, I wanted to take another look at the statistics.

Only one pair has been lost at sea on the North Atlantic, David Johnston and John Hoare in the Puffin, who left from Virginia Beach in the USA in 1966. Cause presumed to be a hurricane. I read their book, The penance way: The mystery of Puffin’s Atlantic voyage, before I rowed the Atlantic. It seemed that they left before they were properly ready, forced into a race to beat Blyth and Ridgway who left at around the same time from Cape Cod.

The other three fatalities were all solos, one leaving from the US, two from Canada. Those two departures from Canada both happened in 1980, since when satellite phones, GPS, watermakers, improved weather forecasting and better boat design have all been factors in improving ocean safety. In fact, the Ocean Rowing Society differentiates between Historic Rows (pre-1982 and advent of new technologies) and Modern Day Rows (post-1982). As Gerard d’Aboville said of his Atlantic row and all ocean rows between 1896 and 1982: “We were like test pilots, but without a parachute”. Now, thank heavens, we have parachutes – or at least para-anchors.

Intrigued, with a very vested interest, in finding out what had happened to the other failed Modern Day Rows from Canada, I did some further digging:

Roy Finlay and Colleen Cronin (2000): towed back by Canadian Coastguard after 26 days. Roy Finlay had rowed the Atlantic E-W previously. Colleen had not rowed an ocean. They abandoned their attempt when headwinds and a brewing hurricane threatened progress. The winds subsequently changed for the better, but they had already turned back.

Matthew Boreham (1999): check out his website. Apparently abandoned due to delays in shipping.

Peter Bray (2009): rescued after 42 days when his boat capsized and failed to self-right. I’m guessing, but maybe the cabin hatch was open, or the boat was not correctly ballasted. Ocean rowboats are designed to be self-righting if capsized. It was his first ocean row.

Sean Moriarty (2011): rescued after 1 day 20 hours when his boat capsized repeatedly. Assuming that this article meant to say 15-foot boat rather than 15-metre boat, but is correct in saying 3-4 metre waves were responsible for the capsizes, it seem surprising that seas of this modest size could capsize his boat. With Bo’s greater size (7.1 metres) and lead ballast, I am sure that she will handle such conditions without difficulty. It was Sean Moriarty’s first ocean row.

Skandia Four (2002): recovered after 21 days when the rudder broke.

Pink Lady Four (2004): rescued after 38 days. Poor Peter Bray once again ended up in the drink when their boat broke in two in Hurricane Alex. It was also Jonathan Gornall’s second failed attempt. An ocean rowboat should not break, leading to speculation that the boat might have been damaged in transit, or overly modified from the original design, weakening its structure.

Conclusion

To put this in perspective, among the Modern Day Rows since 1982 there have been six successful rows from Canada (5 solo and 1 four) and six failed ones. Odds even. Of those six, two were due to capsizes, two to equipment failures, and two were voluntarily abandoned. The statistics are starting to look a lot better than they did at first. Bojangles was built by ex-marine Mick Dawson, and was built to last. Especially her rudder.

Better still, there have been no fatalities among the Modern Day departures from Canada – no doubt due to the valiant Canadian coasties, whom we sincerely hope, and conscientiously plan, not to trouble.

Schooner the Newfoundland dog models an OAR baseball cap

Latest News

We currently do not have a confirmed departure date, but are unlikely to leave before next Monday at the earliest. Brisk winds from an unhelpful quarter will keep us in St John’s for a few days yet.

To get the latest news from the OAR project, check us out:

on our website

on Twitter

on Facebook.

And please consider donating to our chosen charity, the Rowing Foundation, to help get more youngsters out on the water, or chip in towards our satellite phone bill so we can continue to bring you these blogs from the ocean.

Thank you!

On Saturday I gave the commencement speech at the University of Tulsa in Oklahoma (as mentioned in a previous blog), in front of several thousand students, friends, family, and faculty. It was my first commencement speech but not, I hope, my last. I really enjoyed the opportunity to give the benefit of my ocean-earned wisdom, such as it is, to the graduating students – the leaders of tomorrow. To condense a 15-minute speech into a few words, the 3 main messages were:

Me and Mos at Bojangles launch in San Francisco. Caption competition?

a) be mindful of the stories you tell yourself about who you are – they will define what you achieve

b) determination, dedication and discipline can get you a heck of a long way, and you won’t get far without them

c) there are two kinds of fear – one kind that will help keep you alive, but also a second kind that stops you doing the things you want to do – so let go of the fear of failure if you want to live fully.

The video will be available soon here.

I also had the chance to meet the University of Tulsa women’s rowing team (pictured above with their coach Kevin Harris, and wish them all the best in the C-USA Rowing Conference Championships next weekend.

Being the daughter of two Methodist preachers, it strikes me as ironic that I occasionally find myself in a not dissimilar occupation. In fact, thinking back on the little I recall (or even listened to) of my father’s sermons during my childhood, many of them seemed to be motivational more than religious. I’d like to think that my speech on Saturday would have made him proud.

St Johns, Newfoundland

On Sunday morning I got up at 4am to catch a flight to St John’s, Newfoundland, and arrived around 23 hours later. Sadly, my luggage didn’t, and is still wandering around somewhere in the system, but I live in hope. Luckily I’d put the really vital stuff into my carry-on. Forget underwear and wash bag – the vital stuff was the satellite phone and two brand new Optimizer Accesspoint units that will turn Bojangles into a mid-ocean wifi hotspot.

Or should that be "oarsome"?!

I spent most of yesterday afternoon getting it set up, with a few phone calls to OCENS tech support along the way, and now have it all working perfectly. I’ve managed to send emails from both of my iPhones (!) and my iPad. This is how I plan to blog from the ocean. I will email my blog posts to my wonderful mother, who will copy and paste them into WordPress. Various other organisations will also be reposting content from my site from time to time, including One World One Ocean, United Nations Environment Program, TED, Mission Blue, and Fitocracy.

Do check out the Fitocracy website. I met a member of the Fitocracy team, Jared Cocken, at the EG Conference in Monterey a few weeks ago, and again in New York last week. I love the concept of using software and social media to help encourage good habits – be they fitness-related or environmental.

Why not come up with your own fitness quest and keep us virtual company as we row the North Atlantic?

Bojangles Update

Yesterday I also spent some time at the garage workshop where Bojangles currently resides. Andrew (aka Mos) has the bit between his teeth on the boatworks, and is busy tying off the last loose ends on our trusty vessel. A few final fixes and enhancements have also been added to the job list. Reassuringly for me, Mos is a real perfectionist. Even the paintwork is being airbrushed into perfection, although in retrospect maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to wield an airbrush while he was wearing expensive designer jeans….

Working on Bojangles with Jay Go

Do check out Naomi’s blog, over at the OAR website, including a video of boatworks on Bojangles (also posted at the end of this blog).

Last night we had a team dinner in St John’s. In attendance were Mos with his two children and his parents, Naomi Coe our project manager, Harry and Diane (and one of their sons) who are hosting Naomi and me, and Greg Jamieson who has been such an incredible supporter, connector and maker-of-things-to-happen.

To satisfy my curiosity, Greg ordered the moose soup just so I could see what it looked like. I confess to being just a little disappointed that it looked just like a chunky meat broth, and did not have a big pair of antlers sticking out of it.

Team photo from our San Francisco launch/Britweek event

ETD

We are now getting daily weather updates from our weatherman Lee Bruce with a view to determining our Estimate To Depart. It’s not looking too promising at the moment, for the next 5 days at least. We need a little bit of west in the wind to help us clear dry land, and relatively light winds while we cross the notorious Grand Banks, where waves reaching the sudden shallows of the continental shelf can pile up into rough and messy sea conditions. For now the extra time on land is welcome, but if we are to arrive in London in time for the Olympics, we won’t want to wait for too long.

Safety remains paramount, so we won’t leave until and unless the conditions are right. Better to arrive late than not at all.

Requests for Help

If there is by any chance anybody who is flying from the UK to St John’s in the next few days, please let me know. We already have a compass mounted in the bulkhead above the hatch to the aft cabin, a few feet from the rowing position, but being slightly optically challenged I’d like to have a Silva 70UNE compass mounted between my feet but haven’t been able to find a supplier who can ship it to arrive in Canada by 14th May – but we could arrange for it to be delivered to a UK address if there was someone able to personally courier it to us. Any help much appreciated.

We are also looking for a support vessel (or a relay of passing vessels) to accompany us for the first couple of hundred miles as we cross the hazardous Grand Banks. If you know of anybody who will be crossing the North Atlantic in the next couple of weeks, please let us know.

Thank you!

With around 50 speakers ranging from magicians to inventors to musicians to entertainers to astronauts to software engineers, I am still trying to assimilate the onslaught of input. It seems almost rude to try and pick out individual presenters, as absolutely everybody was amazing, but if pushed…..

Trey Ratcliff – travel photographer, gorgeous photos, informative and inspiring website, and fellow contributor on TWiT Network of podcasts

Ren Ng and me in a shoot-out (photo by Yi Ng)

Ren Ng – inventor of the stunning Lytro light field camera. A whole new concept in photography, the camera captures every beam of light along with information relating to its direction. Focusing happens post-production using online software. Play around with the images in the Lytro gallery and see how you can shift the focus from one part of the picture to another. Looking at a photo is no longer a passive experience, but an interactive one, a process of exploration. And the 3D capabilities are simply jaw-dropping. I had to order one!

Philip Sheppard – cellist and composer, survivor of composition marathon when he was given just weeks to arrange every national anthem in the world (203 of them) in time for the Beijing Olympic games. Performed the Stars and Stripes on cello, in the style of Jimi Hendrix – which really had to be heard to be believed!

Jonathan Harris – proponent of ethically responsible software, on the basis that software shapes the way we think. Check out Cowbird for “teachable moments” and personal stories told through images.

Brian Selznick – creator of Hugo, and other illustrated children’s books. Prolific, imaginative and talented.

EG Conference cartoon - my head in a jar!

Simon Coronel – magician and fellow recovering management consultant. I loved his description of his fascination with the unusual as seeking out the “things you find under the edges of bell curves”

Kevin Olusula – cellist and beatboxer. Check out this video to see his unique combination of classical cello with the most amazing human sound effects. I found myself looking around the stage for the percussion section, only to find that those noises were coming from Kevin’s mouth. Incidentally, Kevin was also one of the undergraduates assigned to a Yale World Fellow during his at Morse College. He reckons I’m going to have a very special time on the program. I’m sure he’s right!

Yoky Matsuoka – inventor of the Nest eco-intelligent thermostat. More about her on the Neurobotics website.

Daniel Kim – this is the most incredible vehicle: to call it a motorcycle seems almost insulting. Gyro-stabilised, it would allegedly take a baby elephant to push it over. Imagine how much better our traffic would flow if all those single-occupancy vehicles were replaced by one of these.

Although the speakers were incredibly diverse, something they all had in common was their absolute dedication to their particular art form – dedication to the point of obsession. I wonder how many of them might have been told at some point that they should have “better balanced lives”, or that their obsession was unhealthy. Thankfully, they all had the courage to remain out there at the edges of the bell curves.

To truly excel in a particular field of endeavour, a degree of obsession seems essential. According to Malcolm Gladwell in “Outliers: The Story of Success“, 10,000 hours is the minimum amount of time required to achieve mastery. Having been inspired at first hand by the pinnacles of human achievement over the last few days, I would take “excellence” over “balance” any time.

Excellence inspires. Balance only reassures us that mediocrity is okay.

(Featured photo: a fun portrait taken at EG – what do we think of the granny glasses?!)

Life has been busy for the last couple of weeks as we toil away on pre-expedition preparations. A month from now we will be on standby to depart from St John’s, Newfoundland, and we are entering the crucial final phase of the countdown. More news on that in a future blog (hopefully this week, time permitting) but meanwhile I wanted to let you know about a few upcoming events. In reverse chronological order…..

23rd April: Tickets are now on sale for the Best of British Launch, the official send off for the OAR from San Francisco. Bojangles will form a centrepiece of the event, and will leave that very night to start her long journey across the country to Newfoundland. Please come along, and/or help spread the word to any friends or family in the Bay Area. The more, the merrier!

Point Molate

21st April: Just before our launch – and assuming that I am not tied up with last-minute packing – I plan to be at an Earth Day clean up at Point Molate Beach being organised by Sustainable Point Molate in conjunction with the Watershed Project. Please plan to join us to help clean up and restore the beach for future use. Gloves and garbage bags will be provided and a free BBQ will be on the agenda along with free Point Molate buttons. More info to come, or RSVP to David Helvarg of Blue Frontier Campaign if you are interested in coming along.

Adam Savage from Mythbusters (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

13th April: Later this week I will be speaking at the EG Conference in Monterey. Described as the “premiere gathering of and for innovators in media, technology, entertainment and education”, the conference explores our most creative enterprises by engaging a gifted mix of people — from rising stars to living national treasures. I will be appearing in the same session as Adam Savage of Mythbusters fame on Friday morning. You can join us in cyberspace by joining EG Everywhere. The first 100 people to click here and sign up will get 50% off the usual price of $200 for an annual subscription. The conference runs from 12th-14th April. I will be there – and so will one of the oars that I used for the Atlantic crossing, many times broken and many times repaired. It makes me feel quite emotional to hold it – blood, sweat and tears were shed over those 10 feet of carbon fibre.

Cover via Amazon

11th April: This Wednesday I will be joining one of my personal heroines, Julia Butterfly Hill, for the Spring of Sustainability. I was given Julia’s book, The Legacy of Luna: The Story of a Tree, a Woman and the Struggle to Save the Redwoods, by Ralph Nader a couple of years ago, and devoured this story of a powerful personal commitment to conservation that culminated with Julia spending two years living in a redwood tree to prevent it from being cut down. If you care about the future, and about the Earth, you’ll want to check out the Spring of Sustainability. The season of online events includes some of the biggest names in thought leadership, including Bill McKibben, Van Jones, Thom Hartmann, Joanna Macy, Randy Hayes, Alec Loorz, Hunter Lovins, Andrew Harvey, and Satish Kumar. And, ahem, me, at noon PDT on Wednesday.

So I hope to see you soon – either in person or in cyberspace!

Philosophy Friday….

Recently I was on a plane and noticed a couple of lovebirds staring deep into each other’s eyes. There is a certain kind of look that comes into the eyes of the truly, madly, deeply love-smitten that is quite unique. And for some reason this sent me off on a tangent of thought about the nature of eyes and senses….

Eyes

Most humans have eyes that, when standing, are between 5 feet and 6 feet above the ground – with a smaller proportion at the extremes of the bell curve below 5 feet or above 6 feet. How different would our human world look if our eyes were located, say, at the level of our kneecaps? Or our waists? Imagine how different your kitchen would look if all the countertops had to be visible from 3 feet above the ground.

This must be a small part of the radical adjustment faced by those who suddenly find themselves in a wheelchair. At least children have a reasonable expectation that one day they will grow into the adult-scaled world that we have created. But those who find themselves unexpectedly shorter must find it incredibly frustrating that so many activities are now – quite literally – beyond their reach.

Confusing an Eye for an I

How the world looks to infrared camera film

The more secular of us tend to assume that if something can’t be perceived with our five senses, then it doesn’t exist. But this is a very narrow view of the world. Setting aside matters of faith for now, there are many, many things that exist without our being able to sense them – radioactivity, ultraviolet, infrared, etc etc. Until we thought that these things might exist, and developed gadgets to measure them, they might well have seemed to belong to the realm of magic.

Animals are able to sense many things that we cannot – upcoming weather or earthquakes, high-pitched noises, objects in the dark, far-distant heartbeats, maybe even energetic phenomena that we would label “ghosts”.

“Seeing” the “Future”

We adhere to the concept of linear time because it helps us organize our thoughts and lives. But according to Einstein/Sagan/Hawking….

If we could see the future as clearly as a crystal ball....

What if we could see into the future? What if we could see the long-term consequences of our actions even as we take them? This would certainly make the life of the environmental campaigner a heck of a lot easier. If we had the clarity of vision to see a lifetime’s accumulation of plastic waste, or the result of our carbon dioxide emissions, it would have huge implications for the way we live our lives. Ignorance would no longer be a defence.

With our science and our gadgets, we have a tendency to presume that we can measure everything that exists. It might behoove us to open our minds to different perspectives – in time and in space – and to recognize that our every action has consequences, whether we can see them or not.

Other Stuff:

Back in the real world – lots of activity around the OAR Project right now. Just 6 weeks to go, and so much still to do. Exciting times!

We have some needs, and I’d like to ask you if you can help with any of the following:

- Contacts in St John’s, Newfoundland, who might be able to help us out with media, boating supplies, advice on local tides and weather, friends, food, accommodation – almost anything, really! We don’t know anybody there, and we’d like to, so if you have a friend or a friend-of-a-friend, please let us know.

Skipper Andy Tourell in offshore gear - when I was on board the Spirit of Juno en route to La Gomera

- Offshore gear, such as Musto or Henri Lloyd. We haven’t managed to get sponsorship for this (boo!) apart from a discount, so if you have any foul weather gear hanging around in a closet and gathering dust, please let us know. I am all in favour of recycling! This gear will be vital to our expedition – there will be icebergs floating around out there, not to mention huge waves, so this could make all the difference to our health and wellbeing. Ideally looking for two sets (one small, one large) of HPX Musto salopettes and smock, in red.

- Oars. We haven’t managed to get any sponsorship for this as yet. Ideally we’d like Concept 2 oars, 3 pairs, macon blades, sculling handles and around 3.10 metres long (to be confirmed). Let us know if you might be able to help.

- Cash! We are managing to get discounts on many things, but we are still ending up seriously out of pocket. We will be launching an appeal for individual donations, but meanwhile if you know of anybody or any company that might be interested in sponsoring a North Atlantic row with a particular emphasis on the Olympic spirit, best of British, and creating a legacy fleet of rowboats for the disadvantaged and disabled, please drop us a line.

Meanwhile, we are DELIGHTED to welcome Crewroom on board as our kit sponsor. Personally, I am so pleased about this. I rowed with Crewroom founder Kate Giles a rather long time ago at Thames Rowing Club, and am so proud of what she is achieving with this brand.

Row, Britannia! Rowing snood by Crewroom.

Crewroom is a British performance brand with a sustainable ethos. Their primary concern is the physical welfare of the athlete and helping them on their journey through the seasons – that’s why they focused on developing their fabrics first. The result is their sustainable Vapour-X series which draws on Bamboo Charcoal Technology and incorporates recycled polyester. They design and road test all their kit in the UK, drawing upon a pool of British talent from the London School of Fashion to performance athletes, many of which have represented GB at international level.

I just love working with people who are passionate about what they do!

Crewroom details:

Like them on Facebook

Follow them on Twitter.

And/or sign up for their monthly Crewroom newsletter. You can sign up to receive this on the bottom right-hand corner of the home page on their website.

And of course our OAR details too:

Facebook

Twitter

Website

And finally, speaking of eyes, a stunning promo video for the upcoming EG Conference in Monterey, where I will be speaking next month…..

Email from Roz Savage to Vince Perez:

I’d like to pose a question. In considering my plans for the next chapter of my life, I am considering the possibility of a postgraduate degree. My goals would be:

- improve my knowledge of subjects such as environmental science, psychology, ecology, economics, philosophy and quantum physics – all of which I believe will have an impact on the future of humanity

- enhance my credibility as an advocate of change, particularly with a view to discussions with policy makers and business leaders

- extend my network of influence, and have formative discussions with an intelligent, informed and engaged group of peers.

However, I am very aware of the opportunity cost, both personal and financial, of taking a year (or more) out for study. So I am not yet convinced that this is the right way to go. I am gathering information, but would also very much value your view on whether this would be a wise route to take.

My friend Vince Perez

28th November 2011

Email from Vince Perez to Roz Savage:

Do check out the Yale World Fellows Program at Yale University – ideal for those in mid-career with great potential in their 40s.

I googled and checked out the website. The course would involve a structured curriculum comprised of required seminars, group presentations, and visiting lectures, as well as individually tailored opportunities to pursue independent study via access to Yale course offerings. World Fellows would be expected to give talks to the undergraduate students, and to take part in field trips to New York and Washington DC to meet with politicians, CEOs, and heads of NGOs. Alumni of the programme – Vince Perez included – had gone on to make a real impact in the world, heading up cause-driven organisations, running for office, generating social change.

The course met my criteria perfectly, but surely it had to cost a fortune. I looked further, and discovered to my delight that it was completely free of charge. The best things in life are free, according to the song, and it was a pleasant surprise to find that occasionally this holds true in the real world.

The snag? I had only 11 days before the applications deadline, during which I had to fill out an application form, write a CV, submit two essays, and obtain three letters of recommendation from worthy individuals. During that same period I was due to visit Vic Phillipson (podcast co-host) in Norway, meet up with Rob Hamill (ocean rower and main protagonist of Brother Number One) at the international film festival in Amsterdam, see the start of the Atlantic Rowing Race in the Canaries, and fly back to London. I didn’t exactly have the luxury of an empty diary. It would be challenging but, I decided, do-able.

Zac Goldsmith

The form proved to be time-consuming, but straightforward. I managed to overcome my preconceived notion to beware any role requiring a new CV (along the lines of Thoreau’s dictum: “Beware any enterprise requiring new clothes”) and composed a new resume. Bill McKibben, Zac Goldsmith, and Vince Perez agreed to say nice things about me. The essays proved to be more taxing, but friends provided helpful feedback and eventually I convinced myself that the essays were as good as I could manage in the time available.

The day of the deadline arrived. By then I was back in London, staying with friends in Islington. I woke up early, around 4.30am, and was too excited to go back to sleep so I decided I may as well get up and submit my application. I had to come downstairs to get wifi reception, and entered the the kitchen to find that the family dog had pooped on the floor during the night. One of the reasons I will never be a dog owner is that I can’t abide the notion of scooping the poop, and I decided this job was definitely above my pay grade. And so one of the most important tasks I have ever completed online was performed at around 5am on a dark December morning in north London, sitting in a basement kitchen next to a dog turd. I couldn’t decide if this was inauspicious, or just hilarious.

Betts House

The next phase of the application process was more dignified. I had engineered my luck so that I would “just happen to be” in the northeast USA at the appropriate time should I happen to be called for interview. To my delight, I was. I was already planning to take the train from DC to New York that day, so I extended my journey up to New Haven. I was shown around Betts House, the Victorian mansion where the World Fellows spend their days in study and seminars (and apparently considered as the filming location for The Addams Family), and met the faculty staff. I enjoyed the interviews, but afterwards I started analysing what I’d said and started to have my doubts. Should I have said x? And maybe I shouldn’t have said y? A pointless and crazy-making exercise in futility, of course, but so difficult not to do it when something is so important to me.

A few weeks later there was a request from Yale for supplementary information: Two more references, and a list of recent media coverage. Was this a good sign, or a bad sign? More crazy-making second-guessing.

With Sylvia Earle

Dr Sylvia Earle and Dr Aenor Sawyer agreed to provide letters of recommendation, but it was quite a challenge to compile the list of media coverage. It’s not like I have a PR agency keeping an ongoing log of articles and interviews. My mother was set to work trawling the internet for recent news stories. It was interesting reviewing her list. While a lot of the coverage mentions that I am an “environmentalist” or “campaigner”, it appears I have had limited success in conveying a call to action, particularly in the mainstream media. I resolved to hone my message, and then make it such an integral part of what I am doing that it finds its way into all media coverage so that it is crystal clear what I stand for. I hoped that the Yale program might help – if I was lucky enough to get in.

Once again I submitted the requested information, and waited. And waited. To be honest, I didn’t have to wait very long, but when you’re in an agony of suspense a couple of weeks can feel like an eternity.

Finally, last Friday, the waiting ended. I was sitting in the members’ room at the Royal Geographical Society, one of my favourite London hangouts for free wifi and a work-friendly atmosphere. Almost submerged in the tidal wave of emails from the OAR team, as we work on our plans and strategies for the summer, was an email from the admissions director. “Congratulations! I am delighted to inform you……”

WOOHOOOO!!!!!!

I was elated – that fantastic feeling that comes from having worked really hard for something, and it all comes good. The letter went on to say that they had received close to 2,500 applications, and had selected 16 World Fellows, of whom I would be one. From August 15 to December 14 this year, Yale will be my home. I am tremendously honoured to have been chosen, and incredibly excited about this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I can’t wait to immerse myself in Yale life, and am open to anything and everything that the programme entails. It will be intensely hard work, but I have no doubt that it will be life-transforming in the best possible way.

I was not the most diligent undergraduate student in the world, spending more of my time on the river or in the beer cellar than in the law library (although I did find that volumes of case law can make a very comfortable pillow after an early morning rowing outing). As a postgrad, things will be very different. I know exactly why I am there, and what I want to get out of it. I can’t wait. I just have to go row an ocean first….

Andrew Morris and Mick Dawson after rowing the Atlantic

Andrew’s shipping company, PA Freight, also happened to be the official supplier for getting rowboats shipped to the start line in the Canary Islands. I remember dropping off the still-maiden Sedna in Newark to go into the shipping container. I don’t recall now whether that was where I first met Andrew, but whenever or wherever that happened, I got a first impression of a Lamborghini-driving, medallion-wearing guy who seemed to be, not to put too fine a point on it, a bit flash. (Correction: apparently good luck charms, not medallions.

Andrew was to be one half of a two-man crew, alongside an enormous Frenchman called Stephan who consumed around 6,000 calories a day when on dry land, let alone while rowing an ocean. Unfortunately, their bid faltered early in the race. About 18 hours after setting out from San Sebastian, Andrew fell over on board the boat and cracked his head. They were towed back into port by Mick Dawson (who was then working for Woodvale, and whom I am now replacing) and Andrew was carted off to hospital with concussion.

A couple of days later he was out of hospital and ready to go row an ocean. But the enormous Frenchman was nowhere to be seen. He had assumed that with Andrew’s injury their bid was over, and had cleared off back to France.

Not to be deterred, Andrew sat in a bar with Mick to consider his options. He needed a replacement crewmate. His gaze settled on the man sitting opposite him. Aha! Mick was an experienced ocean rower, having rowed the Atlantic with his brother Steve in 2001, and having also made two subsequent attempts to row solo across the Pacific. By the third beer it was settled. Mick would step in and row with Andrew across the Atlantic.

A week after the rest of the fleet, they set out. I watched in dismay as they quickly eroded my head start and overtook me. They went on to finish sixth overall – a fantastic achievement and a tribute to their strength and determination.

Chris Martin and Mick Dawson after rowing the Pacific

This year’s North Atlantic row was to be a reunion of that 2005 dream team. But Mick, a former marine, has since embarked on a new career in maritime security, fighting piracy in the Indian Ocean. He has also got married, and having spent most of his first year of marriage rowing across the North Pacific with Chris Martin (also a veteran of that 2005 Atlantic Rowing Race) he would understandably like to spend more time with his wife. So between work commitments and wife commitments, another major row started to seem like one ocean too far. Cue yours truly as a late substitute.

As we’ll generally be rowing two hours on, two hours off, in alternating shifts, Andrew will barely notice the difference – or will he? Here’s how Mick and I compare:

L to R: Mick Dawson, Jan Meek, George Simpson and me at the launch party for Mick and Chris's Golden Gate Endeavour

So I’m hardly a convincing body double. But I do have oodles of experience, and so far it seems likely we will make a good team. Andrew (aka “Mos”) and I have started to discuss how we will share responsibilities onboard. Still to be finalised, but so far it looks like this:

This is going to be quite a new situation for both of us. If successful, we will be the first male/female crew to row the North Atlantic route. I’m looking forward to the opportunity to row with a crewmate. My only wobbly moment so far was last Monday, during a big team dinner, when Mos uttered the worrying words: “I’m a bit accident prone….”

If we get his accident-prone-ness and my bad water maker karma, we might be in trouble. But there again, if I can fix him up and he’s good with electronics, we will be okay. This row is going to be all about complementary skills and teamwork.

Andrew Morris, ocean rower and part-time pig

If this blog has awakened your inner adventurer, check out the New Ocean Wave website to find out more about a rowing event from California to Hawaii, due for its inaugural run in 2014.

And you can follow the Olympic Atlantic Row online:

- at the website

- on Facebook

- and on Twitter.

Enjoy!

A Bolt From The Blue

Andrew Morris

About 10 days ago I got an email out of the blue concerning the OAR project: to row the North Atlantic, arriving in Britain in time for the Olympics. I have known both Mick and Andrew since 2005, having competed in the same Atlantic Rowing Race when they first rowed together, and having seen Mick again more recently after his successful row from Japan to San Francisco with Chris Martin in 2009.

I was aware of their plans – as indeed, at one stage I had a similar plan to row the North Atlantic this year to mark the Olympics, until my boat started falling apart around my ears on the Indian Ocean and I cancelled on the grounds of not enough money to make the necessary renovations in the time available, amongst other things (as explained in my blog at the time).

It was Andrew who wrote the email last week, saying that Mick was probably going to have to pull out of the project due to time pressures and would I be interested in stepping in. I wasn’t sure. My gut reaction was “yes”, but it seemed incompatible with my TrashMobs plans (human-powered trip around Britain doing beach and riverside cleanups en route), and I felt a sense of obligation to my team due to the amount of hard work they had already committed to the project.

Revised TrashMobs Plan

But then I started thinking that rowing the North Atlantic could have beneficial effects for TrashMobs. I was particularly interested to hear that the crew intended to make landfall in Bristol on the west side of England, and then row through rivers and canals to London on the other side of the country, popping out there just in time for the London Olympics. This seemed like an unmissable opportunity to start getting TrashMobs into the public consciousness.

And so…. my plan is to push TrashMobs back to next year. While I am disappointed not to be starting TrashMobs this year, an extra year of preparation will be no bad thing. It gives me and my team extra time to strengthen our alliances with NGOs, get the website completed, finalise our documents, raise funding, and much more besides. I have informed all my TrashMobs team members and all others who expressed an interest in the project. So far the response has been unanimously supportive, to my great relief.

And I am really excited to be working with the great team that has already formed around the OAR project. Team members on both sides of the Atlantic are putting together a terrific campaign with a goal of raising funds to get more young people – both able-bodied and disabled – on the water.

Rationale For Cancelled Retirement

Mick and Chris - and Bojangles - arriving at Golden Gate Bridge

Looking back at my reasons for “retiring”, there is a kind of spooky serendipity in the way that this new opportunity sidesteps them all:

1. Mission Accomplished: well, it never really is, is it? If I’d done it all, what would be the point of living?!

2. Sedna Solo (retd): Sedna was falling apart, and it was time she was pensioned off. But this year we will be rowing in the eminently seaworthy Bojangles (of which more below).

3. Immovable Deadline: much more likely to arrive in the UK in time for the Olympics with two of us in the boat, over the shorter course from St John’s (about 1,700 miles rather than 3,270 from New York.

4. A Pearl In The Storm: Bojangles has already proved herself on the North Pacific, from Japan to San Francisco. I have great confidence in her for the North Atlantic crossing, and hope to avoid the multiple capsizes suffered by Tori Murden.

5. Time Out: the opportunity cost of a 2-month crossing is much less than that of last year’s 154 day epic across the Indian Ocean.

6. Time for a Change: in many ways this is going to be a whole new adventure. I’ve never had a crewmate before. The two biggest corollaries of this are a) having to be a team player 24/7, and b) sleep deprivation, as we will alternate shifts around the clock, 2 hours on, 2 hours off. Being nice while being sleep-deprived is going to be the biggest challenge of all!

It was a difficult decision to make. Even though I wasn’t sure about doing it, when I asked myself how I would feel if I DIDN’T do it, the answer became clear. I would always have looked back and wondered if I had missed a golden opportunity. So here I go again. In at the deep end, pushing my boundaries – but that’s what I’m all about.

Upcoming OAR Events

For those in the Bay Area, there is an event at REI Berkeley next week: details on the OAR website.

Bojangles is currently a “live exhibit” at the San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park’s Hyde Street Pier until March 7.

And Finally – Mum’s Reaction

Well, she wasn’t exactly ecstatic. Having read Tori Murden’s “A Pearl in the Storm”, she was most concerned about the likelihood of capsize. But she was there in La Gomera when I was just a novice ocean rower, and witnessed Mick Dawson scrutineering my boat and pointing out all manner of things that should be done to improve boat safety. So she knows that any boat designed, built, and fitted out by Mick will be seaworthy.

So she is still speaking to me….. just about!

John Fairfax

A colourful character never at a loss for a quotable soundbite, Fairfax was a precocious adventurer. At 13 he left his mother, then living in Argentina, to “live like Tarzan” in the jungle. He spent time with local peasants, foraged for food, and hunted jaguar and ocelot for skins which he sold in Buenos Aires. Subsequent adventures saw him drive from New York to San Francisco, ride a bike from San Francisco to Guatemala, hitchhike to Panama, and make his first million by smuggling contraband with pirates. And all this by the age of 25.

After making his way back to Argentina on horseback he tried to figure out what to do with his next quarter-century. As a child he had read about the 1896 crossing of the Atlantic in a rowboat by Harbo and Samuelson (fantastic book about this voyage), and it had captured his imagination. Now he stumbled across a report about the recent 1966 crossing of the Atlantic by Ridgway and Blyth. The record for the first solo crossing was up for grabs.

Less than twenty hours after launching from the Canaries in 1969 he was wondering what had possessed him to believe that this was a good idea. But a cigar and a steaming cup of tea laced with brandy apparently gave him renewed motivation, and 180 days later he successfully arrived on Hollywood Beach in Florida, and went on to row the Pacific with Sylvia Cook 2 years later.

I feel a certain amount of empathy with John Fairfax. I, too, have rowed solo across oceans. I, too, have frequently found it “a miserable journey”, as he described his Pacific crossing. I, too, have felt the boredom and frustration of the crossing, and the euphoria of arrival.

Shark populations devastated by 80%

However, in one key regard, Fairfax and I have had profoundly different ocean experiences. When he was rowing the oceans forty years ago, shark populations were around five times what they are now. Shark-finning, by-catch, and the demolition of the ocean food pyramid have devastated populations of sharks and other apex predators. Fairfax happily describes how he lassoed and killed a dusky shark. Now he would be lucky to see one.

Forty years ago we had no notion of climate change or ocean acidification, although the process was already underway. Two-thirds of the world’s coral reef systems are now damaged, with ten percent being degraded beyond recovery thanks to coastal development, destructive fishing practices, pollution, and mining, as well as rising acidity.

The Atlantic that John Fairfax rowed across still had a thriving cod fishing industry. By 1992, Northern Cod biomass had dropped to one percent of its previous levels, and the Canadian government was forced to declare a moratorium on Atlantic fisheries.

The first container ship launched just over a decade before Fairfax’s voyage, in 1956. Today there are over 50,000 container ships plying the world’s oceans, transporting everything from cars to kiwifruit. It has been estimated that one container ship pollutes as much as 50 million cars due to their enormous weight and the low quality of their fuel, contributing up to 30 percent of the nitrogen oxide that leads to acid rain.

Plastic bags at sea

When John Fairfax rowed across the Pacific with Sylvia Cook, the plastics industry was still in its infancy. Now there are an estimated 3.5 million tons of plastic floating in the North Pacific Gyre, just one of five oceanic gyres around the world where plastic pollution accumulates, leaching toxic chemicals such as BPA into seawater and killing marine life.

It was concern over our unsustainable use of the world’s resources – oceanic and otherwise – that first led me to take up my oars for the cause. In just fifty years we have devastated the blue two-thirds of our planet. Let’s protect our oceans and give them a chance to recover, not just for the sake of future adventurers, but for all our sakes.

Sarah and Dippers

And to be strictly accurate, Dippers wasn’t in Sedona, but 20 minutes down the road in Cornville, where she is now the property of Romano Scatturo, runner, triathlete, and aspiring ocean rower. I was introduced to Romano by Chris Martin, director of the New Ocean Wave rowing race from California to Hawaii (due to take place for the first time in 2014). Romano and Chris had been exchanging emails in connection with Romano’s plan to celebrate his 50th birthday by visiting all 50 states under his own power.

The first email I received from Romano, on 2nd Feb this year, included this tempting invitation: “If you find yourself coming through Arizona while stateside here I’ll extend the same invitation to you as I did to Chris…a delicious Italian meal at my restaurant.” Well, wasn’t that serendipitous…. as I was due to fly to Phoenix just 3 days later.

Romano Scatturo - triathlete, adventurer, and dad

So the other Friday I found myself with Jan and Grace sitting at a table in Romano’s cosy family-run restaurant, Vince’s Little Star in Cornville. Romano’s wife Patrice was waiting on our table, while Romano was in the back cooking. After a tasty traditional Italian dinner, washed down with a delicious Chianti, Romano escaped from the kitchen to come and chat. Romano expanded on his plan – check out his website for the full mission statement. 

I saw Romano again on Monday afternoon, to take a look over the former Serendipity and offer suggestions on equipment, comms, and safety provisions. Dippers is still in good shape and should prove seaworthy for the Hawaii crossing – but my word, she is a tiny boat, a mere 19 feet compared with Sedna’s 23 feet. The sleeping cabin is about half the length of what I am used to – but this is not necessarily a bad thing. Stuff expands to fill the space available, so Romano will probably end up lugging a lot less junk across the ocean than I did.

If you are in the US, there is a good chance that Romano will soon be coming to a town near you. You can find his itinerary here. Please, if you can, keep an eye on his progress and give him a hearty cheer (and maybe a hearty dinner too) as he pedals past. Even if you can’t get to see him in person, please consider contributing to his cause.

Sarah: London 2 London via the world

Meanwhile, Sarah is in Japan with her new boat, Gulliver, preparing for a spring launch on the Pacific. You can follow her adventures online here.

Thank you, Romano, for your hospitality – and very best of luck with your epic adventure!

Other Stuff:

Crazy-busy times. Since I left Sedona, I have:

- Spent 2 days in Washington, DC, with my good friend Ann Luskey, champion of ocean causes

- Had meetings in New York and New Haven

- Given 2 more presentations for National Geographic – in Dallas

- Seen an amazing shark exhibit at the Dallas Museum of Science and Nature – HIGHLY recommended!

- Filmed interviews with MacGillivray Freeman for One World One Ocean

- And with Wyland for an upcoming film project featuring various oceanic superheroes (and me)

- Met Anthony Meindl, uber-acting-coach and author of At Left Brain Turn Right (video trailer here)

- and a lot else besides – more of which will shortly become public…. Watch this space!

The welcoming committee in Madang (photo Jan Messersmith)

The last time I had seen Jan was in Papua New Guinea, where he had lived for over 30 years. I well remember that day in the Solomon Sea, when I was still a day or so away from my destination port of Madang, when we first met. Jan came out in his funny little yellow and blue dive boat, aptly named the Faded Glory, to find me. As the small boat approached, I could see a compact, trim man at the wheel. He had a long white ponytail, a close-cropped white beard, and an extensive collection of tattoos. He was wearing shorts, a vest, and a big pair of sunglasses.

Jan Messersmith, aka Mad Dog

My account is here, but Jan wrote a much better description of our first encounter than I can ever hope to do, so I will let you read his version of events. He also says lots of nice things about me that I can’t possibly say about myself – but just so you know, Jan is nice about everybody, being a genuinely positive and loving kind of guy, so I won’t let his kind words go to my head.

As you will have seen from that sample of his writing, Jan is a blogger par excellence, so I am going to point you in the direction of a few more of his posts – ahem, all of which, incidentally, feature little old me:

Diving with Jan (photo Jan Messersmith)

My arrival by rowboat in Madang, Papua New Guinea

Diving with Jan for the first time

More underwater photos from Jan – including awesome photos of a cuttlefish

(If you are into photography and/or aquatic life and/or simply excellent writing, I am sure that you will enjoy browsing around many more of Jan’s posts.)

Jan and his wife Eunie went on to be my adoptive Papua New Guinea parents. Jan took me diving several times on the Faded Glory and taught me how to take underwater photographs (some of my best efforts here and here. I stayed at their home for my last few nights in Madang, enjoying their gracious hospitality. They even held a farewell party in my honour.

Tragically, shortly after I left Papua New Guinea, Eunie was diagnosed with cancer, and after emergency surgery in Australia she passed away. I was really worried about Jan. After forty-five years of marriage, I wasn’t sure how he would cope alone.

Jan and Grace

But the story has a happy ending. After what must have been an incredibly dark period of his life, with poignant reminders of Eunie at every turn, Jan has once again found love. Grace had been a childhood friend of his late wife, and had always been a part of their lives. After Eunie died, a different kind of love kindled between Jan and Grace, and last October they married (more wedding photos here) and Jan moved to join Grace in Arizona. Jan now describes himself as “twice blessed” to have found two such wonderful women with whom to share his life.

I was delighted to hear the happy news, and even more delighted when I found out they were living in Sedona, which I had already planned to visit. Now I would be able to see Sedona, and Jan, and get to know Grace, all in one trip. What serendipity! Maybe there is some truth to this positive energy vortex after all….

With many thanks to Grace and Jan for their kindness and hospitality.

Other Stuff:

I am in New York at the moment. Had a mega-meeting today with TrashMobs collaborator Ed Scott-Clarke of Plastic Shores (trailer and website). Poor Ed was still jet lagged, but still managed to endure a 5-hour-plus meeting hammering out objectives and logistics. Another big strategy session planned as soon as I get back to the UK in mid-March. More news as soon as things become more definite.

Off to Texas tomorrow for my next round of National Geographic presentations. Still a few tickets left for the evening event, I believe – more details here. Hope to see you in Dallas!

Red Rock

I had never been to Sedona before, but had been intrigued by its “energy vortexes” (sic) ever since I first heard of them several years ago while I was researching the Four Corners states of the southwestern US. People from around the world have been drawn to this New Age “spiritual Disneyland” to feel the force of its energy centres.

Did I feel the force? It’s hard to say. As I caught my first glimpse of the Red Rock I did feel a little tearful, overawed by its sheer scale and grandeur. But this is not unusual for me when confronted by one of nature’s more extravagant displays of beauty.

Red Rock Trail

The following day I felt energized and rebalanced after an 11-mile hike with an old friend – but was this vortex energy, or simply the sense of wellbeing that generally ensues from fresh air, exercise, and enjoyable conversation?

I also felt a new appreciation of nature’s majesty as I took my morning walks, escaping from the noise of the highway to stroll amongst twisted junipers and admire the spectacular rock formations – but this could be attributed to the fun I was having with the fisheye lens on my Sony NEX-5N camera, the distorting effect of which I thought appropriate to Sedona’s reputation as a place where things may not be exactly as they seem.

Crazy fisheye effects

I am definitely open to the possibility that particular locations might have a special vibe. Places of worship often have an atmosphere of quiet contemplation and serenity. Historic battlefields can seem sinister, even on a bright sunny day. I am wiling to believe that we can imbue places and spaces with the force of our emotions to such a degree that the emotion lingers long afterwards.

Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter whether Sedona’s force field is real, imagined, or perceptible only to the sensitive few. For me, it was a chance to recover my personal energy and emerge rejuvenated for the next round of meetings, interviews and presentations.

What do you think? Have you been to places where you have felt a particular energy? How would you describe it? Do you know why that energy existed in that place? Did anybody else experience it too? I’d love to hear!

I expressed my appreciation last weekend by reconnecting with nature in Sedona, Arizona, via my camera lens. I love the way that photography helps to calm my chattering thoughts for a while, and to simply appreciate my surroundings. I hope you enjoy this sample of my pictures (taken on Sony NEX-5N with 16mm lens and fisheye adaptor).

Other campaigners are finding different ways to express their Earth-love.

Over at Eradicating Ecocide, Polly Higgins is asking us to send a love letter to the Earth.

Are you a student? No Impact Man is suggesting you hold a No Impact Week on your campus. More details here.

And those amazing folks at the Climate Ride have a special Valentine’s offer. They have just 15 places left on this year’s ride from New York to Washington DC, from May 19-23. Sign up this week (before 17th Feb) and get 25% off your registration fee of $75. Just enter FINAL15 as the code when you register. I can highly recommend the Climate Ride – a great way to get some exercise, connect with kindred spirits, and enjoy a series of entertaining and informative presentations after a hard day’s biking.

Earth gives to us freely. On this Valentine’s Day, let’s give something back. Thank you!

Other Stuff:

Continuing in the Valentine’s theme, you may enjoy the new TED Quotes website, launching today with quotes about love.

I had a busy week in Phoenix last week, doing several presentations for National Geographic. There was a flurry of media around the events – links below.

- TV interview with Fox Phoenix (I’ve rowed 3 oceans, not 2, but what’s a few thousand miles between friends…?!)

- TV interview on Good Morning Arizona

- Q&A interview on AZ Central

Roz & Stacey at The Women's Eye

- Radio interview at KJZZ

And soon to be available online – a fun interview at The Women’s Eye radio show. Thanks to Stacey and Pamela for a great time – and for sparking off the idea of my own radio show. Hmmmm!

Finally, a really bad Valentine’s Day joke: Two antennae met on a roof, fell in love and got married. Their wedding ceremony wasn’t fancy. The reception, however, was excellent.

Boom, boom!

I confess that I may not be the best advert for the joys of life on the ocean wave, having done more than my fair share of whinging on my way across three oceans. But genuinely, I wouldn’t change a thing. Here are several good reasons to row an ocean:

Arriving in Hawaii in 2008

1. A sense of perspective: it’s a lot harder to get bent out of shape about being stuck in traffic when you have spent several months rowing at two miles an hour.

2. A sense of your own abilities: when you are in the middle of an ocean you will discover inner resources you may not otherwise have known you had.

3. A sense of wonder: sunrises, sunsets, the infinite variety of clouds, and encounters with pelagic wildlife are some of the moments you will never forget.

4. A sense of purpose: for the duration of your ocean rowing campaign, from first commitment through the months of preparation to the achievement of the goal itself, your dedication to your mission is pure and invigorating.

5. A sense of connection: I rarely feel closer to nature than when I am on the ocean. The artificial boundaries we have constructed on dry land disappear, and I am reminded that humans are inseparable from the web of life.

Pure joy.

6. A sense of achievement: Indescribable. Incomparable. Unforgettable.

My friend Chris Martin, who along with me was a solo competitor in the Atlantic Rowing Race of 2005, has just announced the launch of a rowing race across the Pacific from California to Hawaii. The inaugural race is slated to take place in 2014. I am working with Chris on the project, contributing time, energy and introductions in exchange for a small equity share in the company. We are accepting expressions of interest now. Have a think about it. Why not?

Other Stuff:

In a rather different environment, this time last year I was in Antarctica, enjoying the company of penguins. Thanks to Rich Hular for this lovely video of penguins and the reminder of a spectacular trip. You might also enjoy my own little Antarctic slideshow on YouTube.

I will be doing a review of the papers on BBC Radio 4 tomorrow morning at 9am UK time. This is rather hilarious, as I hardly ever actually read the papers. So my comments will be, shall we say, coming from a fresh perspective. Even if you don’t live in the UK, you can listen to the broadcast online at the Radio 4 website.

Tomorrow I fly to the US to start a series of speaking engagements for National Geographic, in Phoenix and Dallas. Then I will be back in the US in April, to speak at the EG Conference in Monterey. Registration is now open online. Seating very restricted, so book your place now!

The smelly side of London

Many strategies that make resounding sense in the long term involve short term cost and inconvenience. How many of us agree in principle that something absolutely should be done about Problem X, Y or Z – but just not in my backyard? Without resorting to totalitarian extremes, how do we overcome this common problem? How do we get people out of a narrow nimby mindset to support the greatest good to the greatest number? This is the challenge facing Thames Water and the Thames Tunnel Now coalition.

The issue is that when there is a significant downpour in London, the sewage system gets overwhelmed and a mixture of rainwater and assorted other contents overflow into the River Thames. This happens about 60 times a year, and around 39 million tons of untreated waste goes into the river.

London’s sewage system was the best in the world when it was built by the Victorians 160 years ago. London then was a city of 2 million people. The Victorians were sufficiently forward-sighted to build the sewers with capacity for 4 million people, but now London has 8 million people.

The proposal is to build a huge holding tank under the Thames to hold the overflow until the sewage treatment plants have enough capacity to deal with it. It seems to me that almost any temporary inconvenience would be worthwhile to prevent untreated sewage flowing into one’s local river, the scheme has faced opposition from local residents who don’t want major construction going on in their neighbourhood.

Yesterday’s press call was organised by Thames Tunnel Now – a group of bodies interested in seeing the Thames restored to health and cleanliness. We had rowers, kayakers, birdwatchers, sailors, conservation groups, politicians, historians, conservationists, and even the great-grandson of the engineer who designed the original Victorian sewers, Sir Joseph Bazalgette.

Photos by Stewart Turkington

I spent the afternoon paddling around in a little yellow rowboat, pulling up on the foreshore of the Thames to inspect an outflow for the benefit of the cameras. Fortunately the weather was dry, so although the underside of Putney Bridge was not the most scenic place to find myself, at least there was no gushing sewage. In the evening we held an event at the Houses of Parliament, involving wine, canapés, and much exposition on excrement.

I attempted to express my love for London and the River Thames, on the upper reaches of which I took my first tentative strokes as a novice rower at the age of 18. I commented on the incongruity of London – still a leading world city in the 21^st century city – having a 19^th century-style river/sewer.

I am glad it was a friendly audience of the converted. I am not sure how effective my speech would have been in convincing the nimby contingent that the temporary loss of their local park during 5 years of construction is a price worth paying for the health and happiness of future generations.

This is a perennial issue for campaigners. Present versus future. Local versus general. It is in our nature to focus on the immediate and the present. But we need to widen our horizons to the collective and the long-term, to become global, forward-looking citizens if we are to make wise decisions.

I don’t have the answers yet – but for sure I’m thinking about it.

Quotes of the Day:

Zac Goldsmith, MP: “more crap in the river than there is in this place” (indicating the Houses of Parliament)

Alun Rees: “not so much rowing as going through the motions”

Me – suggested marketing slogan as a possible workaround to the problem of overflowing sewers: “if it’s precipitated, make like you’re constipated”

This sums up how I felt about my own graduation...

We don’t have commencement speeches in England. My graduation from Oxford (having studied law, rowing and beer, not necessarily in that order of priority) was a baffling ceremony conducted entirely in Latin. I hope my speech in Tulsa will at the very least be more comprehensible, and hopefully more useful too.

So now I turn my attention to what words of wisdom I am going to impart to these students as they embark on the voyage of life. I am fully aware of the responsibility of my task. What can I say to these young adults across the span of a generation that will resonate with them and help equip them for the vagaries of life beyond education?

Actually, I know exactly what I am going to say. The night after my agent first mentioned the possibility of the speech, my subconscious must have been pondering the question, because I woke up inspired and jotted down the framework of the speech on my iPhone before I even got out of bed.

This will be my message: “YOU CAN’T FAIL”.

It was fear of failure that kept me in the office cubicle for 11 years. It was fear of failure that stopped me from being all that I could be. Once I let go of that fear, at last I was free to flourish.

I no longer believe in failure. Even if something doesn’t go as I planned, there is always a silver lining to be found, always some lesson to be learned. Provided I have reaped some reward from the experience, it cannot be deemed a failure. In fact, failures are often more educational than successes, because they invite analysis rather than merely celebration. In my book, the only failures are not to try, and not to learn.

I found these resources quite an inspiration:

Entertaining and empowering: Ellen de Generes at Tulane

Heartfelt: Tony Kushner at Vassar (transcript here)

The famous Steve Jobs commencement speech at Stanford (transcript here)

I listened to this book on audio from Audible.com – words of wisdom from Alan Alda, who seems to have largely cornered the market in commencement speeches:

If you were going to give a commencement speech, what would you say? What would be your gift of wisdom to the graduating class of 2012? I’d love to know!

You can read my blog over at Ground Truth Trekking.

Over now to Erin….

Erin and sleeping Lituya in the snow

I “met” Roz online in 2010, when we were put in touch by an Alaskan friend who saw the same thing in my voyages he saw in hers – something beyond the standard record-setting pursuits. My name is Erin McKittrick. And I don’t look like an adventurer. In addition to being female (Roz and I are definitely in the minority on this one), I’m married, in my 30s, and have two young kids (ages 1 and almost 3).

In some ways, I don’t act much like an adventurer either. I have never skied to a pole, bicycled a continent, rowed an ocean, or climbed an 8000 meter peak. What I have done is walked and paddled thousands of miles, in harsh and remote terrain that few people ever travel – first with my husband, and later with kids as well. And out of the 7,500 miles or so of human-powered wilderness travel I’ve accomplished, more than 6,500 miles has taken place in a single U.S. state: Alaska.

Why Alaska?

packrafting through icebergs

Within Alaska, I have walked across vast glaciers, through tangled thickets, and over endless hills of tundra. I’ve packrafted icy fjords and rivers thick with salmon. I’ve weathered storms hundreds of miles from the nearest human habitation. I’ve glimpsed cultures as different from my own as I might find in any foreign country.

I first visited Alaska when I was 20 years old. Now, a little over a decade later, I can’t imagine wanting to live anywhere else.

Alaska is Big

At over 580,000 square miles, it dwarfs not only every other state in the U.S., but most of the world’s countries. And with only 1.2 people for each of those square miles (most of them in Anchorage, the largest city), it is absurdly easy to go somewhere you’ll be sure not to run into another human being. Alaska has 34,000 miles of coastline. 100,000 glaciers. 3 million lakes. 30,000 grizzly bears.

Katmai walks over the shattered rock that covers this part of Malaspina Glacier, and Mt. St. Elias provides a backdrop.

Steep vegetation made for poor footing, so sometimes we walked in the stream.

But those are just numbers. It draws me as a place that’s more wild than anywhere I’ve ever been, diverse enough to encompass landscapes from vast wetlands to craggy peaks, deserts to glaciers, and alive with both abundant animals and ancient human cultures. Expeditions in Alaska are full of the kind of awe-inspiring moments that make me think “Man, anyone in the world would LOVE to be here right now.” On the other hand, given Alaska’s less than pleasant weather, unruly wildlife, abundant blood-sucking insects, and near-total lack of trails to ease a backpacker’s passage through ridiculously tangled thickets of alder and devil’s club, expeditions in Alaska are at least as full of the kind of intrepid moments that make me think “Why on EARTH would anyone be here voluntarily?” There’s a reason for our low population density. Much of Alaska is wilderness – which I define as “a place not altered for the convenience of humans.” But Alaska is not a place free of humans, our industries, or our concerns.

Alaska is Up for Grabs

Photos from around the Pebble Prospect taken in March 2008.

Ever since the arrival of the first non-native visitors, Alaska has been a natural resource colony for the rest of the world. Sea otter furs for Russian captains, gold nuggets for grizzled prospectors, salmon for the cannery companies, rainforest for the pulp mill companies, oil for British Petroleum and Conoco Philips…

It’s a fact that seems strangely at odds with the wilderness character of most of the state.

In some cases, the land has recovered from the excesses of exploitation. Sea otters have returned to bays wiped clean by the Russians. Salmon have returned to rivers nearly wiped clean by the canneries.

Photo showing herring eggs laid on the beaches of Sitka in mid-April, 2011.

In other cases, we can’t see what’s gone, or simply don’t remember what it used to be. My town of Seldovia was named for massive herring runs long vanished. To my newcomer’s eyes, the bay looks no less beautiful and alive – I’d never notice what is missing. In the gorgeous wilderness of Prince William Sound, pools of black sludge from the Exxon Valdez oil spill still linger – visible only to those who know where to look.

Most of Alaska has been preserved by simple remoteness. It’s always been difficult and expensive to set up shop in Alaska’s hinterlands. Our resources are far from populations of workers, infrastructure, and markets. Weather conditions can be brutal, and in much of the state, access is only by water, air, or ice-road. But as we use up the easy-to-get resources in the rest of the world, this calculation is quickly changing.

The ground beneath Alaska is full of coal, gold, copper, natural gas, oil, zinc, lead, and other mineral riches. Most of them are still in the ground. Alaska has a huge amount of coal – possibly much of the U.S. supply. Despite that, we have only a few small coal mines, all outside the town of Healy. The state was founded on gold and runs on oil money. But much of the oil is still beneath the Arctic Ocean, and much of the gold is still beneath remote tundra hills.

Alaska’s next gold rush

Alaska is synonymous with “gold rush” in many people’s minds, but the gold rush of the late 1800s is dwarfed by what is planed for the early 2000s. What we have is not mines, but proposals. Proposals blanketing huge swaths of the state, envisioning mines on a scale Alaska has never seen – some of them on a scale the world has never seen. Pebble Mine is the most controversial, and most well-known, but far from the only dream of the mining companies. Nearly all large mines leave behind toxic waste that must be stored and treated, forever.

Alaska is Connected to the Rest of the World

Near the edge of Malaspina Glacier, erosion is so rapid that even the bear trails can’t keep up, and forests wash into the sea.

In other places, people debate climate change as something that might cause problems in the future. Here, climate change is now – upending ecosystems and infrastructure, melting glaciers, eroding coastlines, and creating so many obvious changes it is nearly impossible not to believe in it. As an arctic state, vulnerable to faster and more dramatic warming than most of the world, we stand to see outsized effects of global climate change. And with a huge chunk of U.S. fossil fuel reserves, Alaska has the potential to be an outsized contributor to the problems of climate change. We have enough resources here (on private, state, and federal land) that how we choose to use them matters – whether it’s recklessly or wisely, at go-for-broke speed or with an eye to a sustainable future. What we do could make us global leaders, short-sighted victims, or something between the two.

After a storm, the signs of rapid coastal erosion are especially obvious.

Alaska is Small

Luckily, in addition to being big, Alaska is also very small. With 700,000 people, it’s what I call a “one degree of separation” state. Pretty much anywhere in Alaska, you’ll get to talking to someone, and soon find you have at least one friend or acquaintance in common. This human scale makes it easier to reach out and talk to people, and gives me a little more hope that we can find solutions together.

Hope for the Future?

Do I have hope for Alaska’s future? I’m raising my kids here. Here in Alaska, where they will be living on what my generation has left them – whether it’s bountiful salmon runs, mountains of perpetual mine waste, an unstable climate, sustainable industries, or an economy collapsing after the easy resource wealth has dried up. Beyond Alaska, they will be dealing with the impacts of global climate change, resource depletion, and ecosystem degradation stretching far beyond our own backyard.

Katmai explores the mossy roots of trees undermined by melting ice below.

By the time they’re adults, the state economy will no longer be able to coast on a shrinking pot of oil wealth. By the time they’re adults, the climate impact of all that oil we’re burning will be leaving a swath of destroyed or displaced infrastructure and ecosystems. But raising kids at all is an expression of hope. There is hope in our healthy watersheds that still provide clean water and an abundance of fish. In our renewable resources. In our vast supply of untapped renewable energy. In politicians that seek to save some of the non-renewable wealth for future generations. In the creativity and resilience of our residents. In the fact that so much of Alaska is still covered with “proposals” rather than “mistakes” – projects for which choices can still be made.

And we wonder why our lens is always so dirty…

Our Journeys

My husband and I have devoted our lives to understanding and trying to influence the big natural resource and environmental issues across the state of Alaska. To make sense of the issues in such a sprawling and wild place, and to understand them in a deeper way than we ever could by research alone – we Ground Truth. Which means we spend a lot of time figuring out how to undertake remote wilderness expeditions in places few people ever travel, with bears, glaciers, storms, wild rivers – and a pair of wild little children.

Next year, we plan to take our 4 year old and 2 year old on a 600+ mile journey around Cook Inlet, looking at Alaska’s energy past and future by walking along beaches covered with grazing bears, packrafting rocketing tidal currents, and interviewing people in every community along the way. (Roz might join us for part of this).

Lituya was generally much more interested in exciting new twigs and rocks than the expansive vistas that surrounded us.

Last year, we spent two months journeying 100 miles across the vast and melting landscape of Malaspina Glacier with our 2.5 year old and 9 month old, experiencing and documenting the dramatic impacts of climate change in a place changing so quickly that even Google Earth is woefully out of date.

Before that, we talked about climate change, mining, and the prospect of oil drilling with villagers on the Northwest Arctic Coast, joining them for dinners of whale blubber, and walking 300 miles down the Chukchi Sea Coast with a 1.5 year old (while I was 6 months pregnant).

Before that, we spent a year walking 4,000 miles from Seattle to the Aleutian Islands (3/4 of the distance in Alaska), looking at issues too numerous to list.

Before that, we followed the watersheds downstream of the proposed Pebble Mine in Southwestern Alaska.

Before that…

On Mamelak Mountain we encountered three muskox.

Ground Truth Trekking

I’m not sure if that list sounds outlandish or not. But assure you I am quite ordinary in everything except for stubbornness. Extraordinary journeys can be ordinary. For anyone. There’s probably something any one of us could “Ground Truth” a stone’s throw from home. Even if you don’t have a month or a year, but only a week or a weekend. Even if you’re slow (I assure you we are glacially slow with both kids) or unathletic. Even if you have “trappings and responsibilities” of every day life like kids, a spouse, or a house.

Next time I’m dragging two whining toddlers along a remote beach in a storm, I might wonder about my “trappings and responsibilities” and whether or not I’m insane to keep doing this. But Alaska is my backyard, and the place I care about most deeply. And nothing will keep me from continuing to explore here, and continuing to learn.

You can read more of Erin’s writing in her book, and follow Ground Truth Trekking’s work and adventures on Twitter, Facebook, or our website.

Climate Ride 2009

I will also be gathering signatures on an e-petition. Under UK law, if an e-petition gathers at least 100,000 signatures, it is eligible to be debated in the House of Commons. I am still finalising the wording of the petition, with input from a fantastic team of advisers and meetings with government staff, and it will be some form of call to dramatically reduce the amount of single-use plastics ending up in landfill and in the oceans.

The petition wording has been an interesting exercise. There is no point working hard to get the signatures if the petition itself is flawed – for example, if it asks the UK government to impose policies that restrict trade in breach of the Treaty of Rome. I’ve also had to do a lot of research to find out what European Union directives are already in force, because I don’t want to ask the government to do something less than they have already committed to do. So it gets complicated.

At the same time, we are working out my route around the country. For the kayaking legs, we have to find out where there are suitable put-ins and take-outs. For cycling, I’m trying to avoid the worst of the hills! And alongside that we need to make sure that each night I end up somewhere that we can feasibly hold a cleanup of beach or waterway. Luckily, I have exactly the right woman for the job – Jane “Mrs Maps” Hornsby, who was our intrepid navigator for the hike from Big Ben to Brussels in 2009.

Approximate cycle route from John O'Groats to Lands End

The plan at the moment is this:

mid-May to mid-July: kayak up the East Coast from London to John O’Groats

mid-July to mid-August: cycle from John O’Groats to Lands End

mid-August to mid-September: kayak along the South Coast from Lands End back to London

Note: I have applied to Yale for a one-semester postgrad program which would start in August. I will find out in March/April whether or not I have got a place. There is great competition for places, so it is far from certain if I will be one of the lucky few. If I am successful, TrashMobs will take a break and be continued next year.

I have hesitated to reveal to much, too soon. Like many of my grander schemes it has undergone some changes since its conception as I’ve explored the feasibility of both the expedition and campaigning aspects of the project. My ideas tend to be ambitious, which is no bad thing, but then they run slap bang into reality and need some modification in order to stand any chance of success. I thank you for your patience during this process. I will keep you posted just as soon as new developments are ready to be announced.

Meanwhile, I have some things that I will need help with, and would like to put the word out to my wonderful Rozlings. I’m not quite ready to give you all the information you need, but maybe you can start thinking about these things:

For people in (or who have friends in) Britain:

- people to kayak/cycle with me

- people to organise and/or take part in beach cleanups

- signatures on our e-petition (UK residents only)

- accommodation and dinners en route

- people who live on and know the coast to give advice on put-ins, take-outs, tides, mudflats, etc

And things that you can help me with no matter where in the world you are:

- graphic design – I need someone to help devise a logo for TrashMobs. Looking for something fun and eye-catching to go on publicity materials, information packs, website, stickers, etc.

- sorry, but as always, I will need funds. We are trying to raise around £50,000  ($78,000) to cover the cost of PR services, support driver, support vehicle, fuel, food, information packs, and start/finish events. Don’t donate yet – we might be doing a Kickstarter project, and/or I still need to figure out how to reward our supporters. I want to make sure you get something in return. So hold onto your pennies, and await further information!

Other Stuff:

Erin and her husband Hig

Watch out later today for a special guest blog on this site from Erin McKittrick of Ground Truth Trekking. It’s a beautifully written piece about her home state of Alaska, and why she and her husband go on epic expeditions to spread awareness and appreciation of its flora and fauna, emphasising how much is at stake if Alaska is allowed to be developed with no regard for its natural beauty and diversity.

An interview with me has just appeared on The Departures Board as part of their Seven Wonders series.

About 2 days after I asked you to vote for Al Humphreys in this year’s People’s Choice Adventurer of the Year award, they closed the voting. Sorry about that! We will now have to wait until the end of February to find out who has won.

Yesterday I went gig rowing here in Calstock, Cornwall. It was all rather strange and new. I was in a skiff, which has three rowers – an odd number, which did indeed seem odd to me. The bow rower (me) has one oar, the stern rower has one oar, and the person in the middle has two. Only the middle rower has buttons on their oars – the bow and stern rowers have to try not to let the oar slide in or out too far, as there is no button to hold it in place in the oarlock. The oar is round, not square, where it passes through the oarlock, which is also round – so the rower has to control the squaring and feathering much more than I am accustomed to. You hold the oar handle with the outside hand palm up, and the inside hand palm down. You pull the handle into your armpit rather than your rib cage. And there is no sliding seat, just a bench. Overall, I enjoyed it, but some aspects of it did seem gratuitously difficult. I am a big fan of squarish oars in squarish oarlocks. It saves a lot of strain on the forearms. But whatever its quirks, it was a seriously good workout. After 15 minutes I was knackered!

These guys show how it should be done. This isn’t a skiff, it’s a gig, I think – but please correct me if I’m wrong.

Calstock in Cornwall, my current residence (photo taken from railway viaduct)

My new year has been exciting, but not in a bloggable kind of a way. I’ve been busy working on my plans for this summer’s expedition and making revisions to my Pacific book, but neither of those things are very interesting to report. And I’m increasingly a believer that if I don’t have something interesting to say, best not to say anything at all. There is enough noise in this world already without me adding gratuitous verbiage.

However, I am now ready to start revealing some details of this summer’s plan. Some background first: in early December I was due to have a meeting at the Houses of Parliament with Marcus and Anna from 5Gyres; Mike, Trish and Andrea from Greener Upon Thames, Ed Scott-Clarke of Plastic Shores, and Zac Goldsmith MP. We were having a pre-meeting at Wesley’s Cafe under Methodist Central Hall (most fitting for somebody of my parentage) and were discussing how there seemed to be a fast-growing awareness of the problems with plastic bags, and even if we didn’t manage to make the Olympics plastic-bag-free, there may well be scope for a broader campaign.

[Note: the latest letter from the London 2012 Organizing Committee shows a partial victory for our campaign: plastic bags have not been banned from the Olympics, but according to the letter "LOCOG has been very clear that it will not, under any circumstances, use single-use carrier bags. It will also not permit the use of oxo-degradable plastics (for example, materials which are degradable through the use of additives) or compostable biopolymers, which can find their way into the household waste stream." Not as much as we'd hoped for, but better than nothing.]

A clue as to my plans: kayaking a couple of weeks ago near St David's in Wales

I carelessly mentioned that I had been thinking about doing a human-powered circumnavigation of Britain in 2013, but maybe I could bring it forward to 2012 and tie it in with a countrywide campaign on the perils of plastic. Everybody jumped at the idea.

So now, dammit, I was going to have to do it.

Since then I have been hard at work. I have had input from a huge range of fantastic people – politicians, environmentalists, grassroots campaigners, NGOs, and town councillors, cyclists and kayakers. The plans for both the campaign and the physical adventure have undergone several metamorphoses, but finally a clear strategy is beginning to emerge.

There is still much to do, but I am very nearly ready to announce my plans. More details as soon as I have something to show you.

Other Stuff:

I am doing some presentations for National Geographic in the US in February: in Phoenix, Arizona, on 8th and 9th Feb, and in Dallas on 21st Feb. Tickets available online. I’ve been working with the Google Earth team on a very cool new multimedia presentation, combining video and photos with Google Earth animations that whisk you around the world along the track of my boat. Big thanks to Sean Askay and the rest of the team.

It’s voting time again for the People’s Choice National Geographic Adventurer of the Year. Please vote for my friend Al Humphreys, and while you’re at it, check out his website, his A to Z of London eating, and his current expedition across the Atlantic. Go, Al!

With Nick and Toby before the start of the race

Speaking of ocean rowing, huge congratulations to Nick and Toby of Box Number 8 for a well-deserved victory in this year’s Talisker Whisky Atlantic Challenge. After a nail biting race in which 6 boats were forced to retire and Box Number 8 traded lead position with JJ the whole way across, Nick and Toby’s win was a testament to thorough preparation and a gutsy performance. And all for a fantastic cause, too: Shelterbox deliver survival crates to disaster areas around the world.

The podcast has been ticking along, even during my blog silence. Thank you, Vic Phillipson!

Thanks also to all who have been supporting me as I prepare for this year’s adventure: as well as the usual suspects named above, also Jane Hornsby, Angela Hey, Dianna Cohen of Plastic Pollution Coalition, Andy Cummins of Surfers Against Sewage, Jane Davidson, Tom Burke, Chris Rose of Campaign Strategy, James Greyson of Blindspot, Aimee Devine, Emily Utter, Helen Hammond of Elephant Creative, Julie Church of UniquEco, Helen Webb at SeaChangers, Rosie Tudge, Rick Hyman, David Church, Andy Middleton, Jeff Allen and Simon Osborne of Sea Kayaking Cornwall, round-Britain cyclist Anna Hughes, Yorkshire Wildlife Trust, and Jonathan Griffin of National Maritime Museum Cornwall.

St Mawes Castle, built by Henry VIII circa 1545. The curator gave me the creeps telling me about the ghosts he had encountered there.

Thanks also to Mike and Chris for letting me stay at their seafront flat in St Mawes (spectacular views!), and to Jo for the use of her lovely house in Calstock, Cornwall, while I work on my book.

Congrats to The Underwater Realm for smashing through their fundraising target on Kickstarter. I emailed a few friends on their behalf, and feel proud to have played a small part in their success – although when you see what they are up to, I think you’ll agree that the success was well-deserved. I can’t wait to see the films. Thanks to all who supported them – nearly 1,000 backers in all!

Last weekend I did a filmmaking course run by those two amazing women, Franny and Lizzie of The Age of Stupid (a Spanner Films production). The course focused less on the mechanics of filmmaking and more on how to crowdsource a project and  use a film to change the world. Lots of anecdotes about the making of Stupid, largely revealing just how damned hard those two women worked to make it all happen. Every time they encountered an obstacle, they just found a way around it. Tremendously inspiring, and I wish them all continued success with the 10:10 campaign to combat climate change.

Sunset in St Mawes

Sedna should be on the move soon, after an embarrassingly prolonged stay on the lawn of the Grand Baie Yacht Club in Mauritius. With a bit of luck, she will be on exhibit in the UK later this year – details coming as soon as confirmed.

I have just been invited to narrate my book for Audible. We are still working out the details, but hopefully it will include genuine snippets of audio from my ocean footage. I will keep you posted!

Phew, that was a lot of “Other Stuff”!

Finally and most importantly, it is my Mum’s birthday on Sunday. Join me in wishing her a very special day, and all the absolute best for the year ahead. No more broken legs!

- Antarctica: spectacular, amazing, jaw-dropping, and must-do-again

- Australia: wonderful people, bizarre animals, and apparently difficult to leave (!)

- Indian Ocean: tough one – long, rough, and (thank heavens) over!

- Hectic autumn: California, Colorado, England, and a lot more that didn’t even make it into the slideshow…

- 4 world records

- Canaries: seeing off the latest Atlantic Rowing Race

- Buckingham Palace: not every day you get to meet the Queen, not to mention the “royalty” of adventure and expeditions

… and it couldn’t have happened without your support. Thank you! Click here to see my latest newsletter, chock-full of love and appreciation. (If you don’t already get my newsletter, and you’d like to, please send me a message and I’ll sign you up.)

It has been an amazing year in my life, and hopefully in yours too. And 2012 will be even more special.

Wishing you a very Hannukah, Happy Solstice, Christmas, Kwanzaa and New Year!

The Queen, me, and David Walliams

The event was held to commemorate the 100th anniversary of Scott’s expedition to the South Pole. I was delighted enough to receive the original invitation, but even more excited when I was also invited to a press preview in the afternoon. The Royal Collection and Royal Archives had put together an exhibition of material relating to exploration and adventure especially for the evening, to showcase British Exploring and Adventuring through history. Just a handful of people were invited to this earlier event, including Sir David Attenborough, Michael Palin, Bear Grylls, and my co-winner of National Geographic’s Adventurer of the Year award, Ed Stafford.

In fact, Ed was the first person I ran into as I arrived at the Palace on a blustery and raw winter’s day here in London. I saw a tall, designer-stubbled man asking a policeman where the Privy Purse Door was to be found. I recognised him immediately, and we chatted as we made our way around to the front of the Palace. There we bumped into Falcon Scott, grandson of Captain Robert Falcon Scott, the man in whose honour this event was being held. Scott Jr was having some difficulty getting past a particularly over-zealous policeman on the gate, but eventually he succeeded. Would have been a bit of a shame otherwise, having traveled all the way down from Scotland. As we walked across the darkening forecourt to the Palace entrance we were joined by Sir Ranulph Fiennes and Sir Chris Bonington, both of whom have written books that I devoured back in the days when I was still an adventurer of the armchair variety.

My first impressions once inside the palace were how bright and magnificent it was – and how very nicely warm. Gilt and mirrors were everywhere, and thick carpets hushed our footfalls. We heard dogs barking, and as we passed along a corridor we saw a footman herding a half dozen corgis into a lift – a reminder that this is actually a home, and not just a monument. The exhibition included such amazing things as journals written in longhand by Queen Victoria and Ernest Shackleton, as well as photographs of the Queen as a Girl Guide, many moons ago. She is now 85.

David Attenborough

During the afternoon event I had lovely long conversations with Chris Bonington and David Attenborough, both of whom proved to be absolute gentlemen. At the same age as the Queen, Sir David looks amazingly robust and has the most beautiful complexion, despite his many years of traveling to extreme environments. Sir Chris looks a little more weatherbeaten, but still very upright and vigorous.

Once we had all taken turns in speaking to the cameras, the other guests started to arrive for the evening event and the champagne started to flow. The Queen and Prince Philip arrived and we lined up to shake their hands. We just got a brief hello at that stage, but later on 8 or 9 of us were once again picked out to meet the Queen for a longer encounter. I was first in line, and standing next to Thames swimmer and TV funny man David Walliams. He started joking about Tourette’s Syndrome and had me snorting with laughter. I had to fight hard to paste on a straight face before the Queen approached. We had a nice little chat, very polite, although she grimaced at the news of my adventures. I guess my life is rather different from hers, although for a while back there I had my own (Purple) Palace.

Bear Grylls - note the shoes!

After that the evening became rather surreal. Everywhere I turned there were faces familiar from newspaper articles, books, and TV. Many of these names may not be familiar to non-British readers, but take it from me, these are the who’s who of British exploration. Given how much traveling all these people do for a living, it was absolutely amazing to find them all together in one place. I could say so much about all these people, but to stop this blog from getting too long, I will just list them here.

I spoke with many, many people during the 2-hour reception, including:

Ben Fogle (TV presenter, rower, runner, polar – very nice guy, with jelly bean stuck in throat)
James Cracknell (Olympic gold medal winner, rowing, polar – has recovered well from his bad cycling accident)
Dame Ellen MacArthur (sailing – intense)
Miles Hilton-Barber (blind adventurer – so inspiring)
Benedict Allen (adventurer, filmmaker – very tall!)
Pen Hadow (polar – very amiable)
Ollie Hicks (rower – still planning to row the Southern Oceann – I do worry about him!)
Alastair Humphreys (round the world cyclist – great bloke)
Col John Blashford-Snell (explorer, especially Peru – a legend)
Ray Mears (TV presenter, survivalist – the first)
Bear Grylls (TV presenter, survivalist – the second)
Jo Royle (skipper of Plastiki – great to see her again)
Prince Edward (very pleasant and friendly)
Bruce Parry (TV presenter, Tribes – very funny, swears like a trooper)
Brian Jones (record-breaking balloonist – lovely guy)

Ray Mears and Ed Stafford. And me in the background, still cracking up with David Walliams.

Also there, but I didn’t actually get to talk with them:

Ben Saunders (polar)
Sir Robin Knox-Johnston (sailing)
David Hempleman Adams (polar)
David de Rothschild (Plastiki)
Princess Royal
Princess Beatrice
And no doubt many, many more.
All in all, it was an amazing night to remember. Somebody suggested that they should hold it again every year. I agree. My only complaint about the evening was that it was way too short, and I would have loved to have so much longer to exchange ideas with these incredible individuals. Beyond the stardust, there is an important aspect to what so many of them do: as I said to Sir David Attenborough when I thanked him for all he has done to educate the public about the wonders of nature through his long and distinguished career in TV, people are more likely to care about – and preserve – what they know.

P.S. I see in today’s Times that Sir David Attenborough is denying being a true adventurer. “Any bloody fool can be uncomfortable. If I see a five-star hotel, I’m not going to go on living in a tent.” (Lucky for me there aren’t too many five-star hotels in the middle of the Pacific, because my philosophy would be exactly the same – especially if the BBC was paying.) He is then quoted as saying after his conversation with me: “She said she was going to hang up her oars. I would have hung up my oars a long time ago.” Regardless, Sir David, you have probably done more for conservation than all the rest of us put together. Thank you, and I hope you will carry on doing it for many years to come.

Group photo of the attendees at the afternoon's preview event

With Nick and Toby

I’m happy to say that my main emotion was a vicarious excitement for the crews. I am so happy for them that they have made it this far. They have worked hard to acquire their boats, get their qualifications, raise sponsorship and plan their logistics. Many may dream of rowing an ocean, but only a small percentage make it even this far. They have already achieved more than most.

Conditions were fine for the start, but if I have learned anything from my years at sea, it is that the ocean (in fact, life in general) is full of surprises. I can only hope that most of them are good surprises. Now we must entrust the crews to Neptune, and wish them a bon voyage. Be safe, be happy, and be fulfilled. I wish each and every rower the very best for the weeks and months ahead.

The Atlantic 4

I am writing this blog on the ferry from La Gomera back to Tenerife. As we pulled out of the harbour, I strained my eyes trying to spot any rowboats still within sight. I could see a couple of masts – was that the escort vessel Aurora? Maybe. I recalled the video of my own departure on 2005 as a novice ocean rower, feeling the flutter of nervous excitement, trepidatious yet eagerly anticipating the adventure ahead. I have come a long way since then – in every sense.

Waving bon voyage

But the complete absence of envy today confirmed to me that for now at least, hanging up my oars is the right thing to do. I know that some of you are awaiting to hear an announcement of my next move – an expedition, a campaign, a foundation or some other project. Trust me – you know that I am not sitting idly by while our world rushes ever faster towards crisis. There is much (possibly too much!) in the pipeline, but nothing that is yet ready to be announced. My feet have barely touched the ground since I made landfall two months ago, but an opportunity for quiet contemplation and strategising is coming up soon. Watch this space.

Meanwhile, some exciting news about my visit to meet the Queen at Buckingham Palace this coming Sunday. I have been invited to an afternoon press event as well as the evening reception. Also present in the afternoon will be: Sir David Attenborough (legendary naturalist and BBC TV presenter), Sir Ranulph Fiennes (Britain’s most distinguished explorer), Sir Chris Bonnington (legendary mountaineer), Dr Alice Roberts, Michael Palin (ex-Python, TV explorer/presenter, and President of the Royal Geographic Society), Andrew Eavis, and Ed Stafford (first person to walk the length of the Amazon, and fellow National Geographic Adventurer of the Year 2010). Distinguished company indeed!

A sea leg: Row2Recovery crew

I am sure that several of the crews are relieved, and not only because calmer conditions will give them a better chance to get their sea legs. A few last-minute technical problems have arisen. One of the crews is battling with a broken water maker, another crew is still fitting their autopilot, and my roommate from the Row For Freedom crew got back from the boat at 1am last night, suggesting that they might also be grateful for a few extra hours.

A few people have asked me if I am jealous of the competitors. Would I prefer to be in one of the boats rather than waving them off from the harbour wall tomorrow? No, absolutely, definitely, undoubtedly not. They are welcome to it. I wish them all well, of course, but it is only 2 months since I got off the ocean myself. You couldn’t pay me enough to get back in a boat right now. Well, maybe you could, but it would have to be a LOT.

But I will be following this year’s race with great interest – from the comfort of a nice warm house. Here are the crews I will especially be watching:

Helena Smalman-Smith on board the Tiger Team boat

Tiger Team: I go back a long way with Helena and Richard Smalman-Smith. Helena was the shore manager for Chris and Clint, the winners of my race in 2005. She and I have stayed in touch over the years, particularly collaborating on my book proposals, as she used to work in publishing. Her husband, Richard, and I both rowed for the Oxford University Lightweight Rowing Club in 1989, when he was stroke of the men’s crew and I was stroke of the women’s. He went to the same school as my ex-husband, and used to be a teacher at the same school as my good friend Julian. And one of their shore support team members is Chris Martin, the other solo entry from my 2005 race. So we have many, many points of connection. They are a fantastic couple, and their fun tiger-striped boat certainly stands out from the crowd!

Box Number 8: Remember when I climbed Mount Kinabalu in Borneo last year? My companion on that trip was Nick Moore, who I first met in 2005 when we were jumping in and out of a swimming pool in Tower Hamlets doing our Sea Survival course together. He was preparing for the Clipper Round The World Yacht Challenge and I, of course, was preparing for the Atlantic Rowing Race. Nick is teaming up with Toby to row for Shelterbox, one of my favourite humanitarian charities.

Row2Recovery: They might be missing a few legs (only 7 legs out of 12 are present and correct), but they’re certainly not short on courage. Surely one of the most inspiring crews in this year’s race.

Andrew’s Atlantic Challenge: Andrew will be rowing the controversial boat used to such winning effect by Charlie Pitcher in the 2009 race. A huge forward cabin to increase windage, along with immaculate preparation and a high level of fitness, enabled Charlie Pitcher to win not only the solos class, but the overall race. It will be interesting to see if this radical design is equally effective in Andrew’s hands.

Row For Freedom: The girls have had more than their fair share of problems, not least of which was a boat delivered late and ridden with leaks. Even before this morning’s postponement was announced, they had decided to push their departure back by 24 hours. With a relatively young and mostly inexperienced crew drawn from several different countries, they will have their work cut out, but it is all for a great cause. I wish them all the best!

Do please check out the race website, and pick your own crews to follow. I am sure that in the weeks and months ahead, they will very much appreciate messages of support and encouragement – as indeed I have done. I wish all the crews a safe and satisfying voyage to Barbados.

Not just a voice in the ether! Vic Phillipson lives.

Last week I spent several days with my Roz Roams podcast co-host, Vic Phillipson, and his family in Kristiansand, Norway. Regular listeners to the podcast will have heard Vic talking on occasions about the Kanonmuseum where he works as a volunteer, and he took me up to see it as a possible venue for a speaking engagement (details of Norwegian speaking tour forthcoming once things are a bit more definite).

Natural pacifist though I am, I have to say that there was something pretty awe-inspiring about the sheer scale of the cannon. And the museum in the bunker beneath was equally fascinating – although I felt a little guilty about being so interested in a system that was, really, designed to kill people. I was impressed by the analogue computer they used to calculate the firing angle, and some ingeniously designed equipment designed for loading shells.

Vic told me just how swiftly the Germans were able to set up an extensive network of cannons and bunkers all along the Norwegian coast, a huge infrastructure conjured into existence by sheer force of will and the mobilisation of a massive workforce. Ignoring for now the not-so-nice objectives of this operation, it really is amazing what human beings can achieve when they put their minds to it.

One BIG cannon

This theme of massive human mobilisation tied in with a book I am reading at the moment: The Great Disruption: Why The Climate Crisis Will Bring On The End Of Shopping And The Birth Of A New World, by Paul Gilding. You can probably tell from the title that this is right up my street. In the book Paul Gilding draws a parallel between our response to climate change and our response to a war situation. Apparently the warning signs were there for some time before war was declared on Germany. The invasion of Poland was just the last straw. There was a huge shift in attitudes between the slowly-building awareness of a malevolent power in Europe, and an open state of war. Suddenly all the power of human innovation and creativity was unleashed to confront the enemy.

Human ingenuity: the analogue computer, bent out of shape by my fun fisheye lens

Paul Gilding believes that our response to environmental damage will – eventually – be equally dramatic. I haven’t finished the book yet, but it’s great stuff so far. Too optimistic? I don’t know. But it cheers me up immeasurably to believe that humans will eventually respond appropriately to the growing crisis, and that it won’t be too little, too late. It certainly makes it easier to get out of bed in the mornings, and to carry on fighting the good green fight. No cannons required.

Other Stuff:

I am now in the Canary Islands, on my way to see the start of the Atlantic Rowing Race on Sunday. I’m watching, NOT rowing! I was due to be on La Gomera by now, but had a bit of a planes-trains-automobiles day yesterday. All was going well – walk 15 mins to station in Utrecht (Netherlands), get train to Amsterdam, catch plane, change planes in Madrid, land in Tenerife, get bus to Los Cristianos to catch the ferry…. except that the bus arrived 5 minutes after the last ferry of the day had left at 7pm. So here I am, still in sunny Los Cristianos. I’ll head over to La Gomera later on today. Watch this space for the news on the crews!

Jack Johnson - catch him today!

From Michelle Hill, producer of Bag It:

“I am writing to let you know about an exciting new way to share Bag It with friends, family and colleagues coming up in just a few weeks.  It is kind of like a digital “sneak peak” of the film – 5 screenings, each hosted by some VIPs in the world of plastic pollution who will do a live skype-type Q&A after each screening.  Our hosts are  singer/songwriter Jack Johnson and his wife Kim, actor, Ed Begley, Jr. hosts with Dianna Cohen of the Plastic Pollution Coalition, Rebecca Sutton from the EWG, Jim Moriarity, Founder and CEO of Surfrider Foundation and Anna Cummins & Marcus Erickson from 5 GYRES.  Come April 2012, the film will also be coming available everywhere in the digital world with the help of New Video Company.

“Gripping, funny, intelligent and sure to change your life.”

-Louie Psihoyos, Director of The Cove

“That was one of the most confronting, thought-provoking and enjoyable movies my partner and I have seen for a long time.  It has definitely changed my priorities and perspective on life.”

-Patron, Melbourne Environmental Film Festival

Constellation TV, The Fledgling Fund & Docudrama are pleased to announce 4 special screenings of the documentary, Bag It.  Beginning November 20th for 4 weeks, a special Sunday series of event screenings will take place on Constellation, a new online movie theater platform.

“The Fledgling Fund is proud to work at the intersection of independent documentary film and social change.  Bag It is a great example of a film that cannot only entertain an audience, but also changes hearts and minds.  We are honored to support this film and this special screening series on Constellation.”

-Emily Verellen, Director of Programs and Communications, Fledgling Fund.

Tickets are $4.99 at www.constellation.tv/bagit

On November 20^th at 8:30 PM EST, Ed Begley Jr., actor and founding member of the Plastic Pollution Coalition, along with Dianna Cohen, Creative Director and co-founder of the Plastic Pollution Coalition will host a live Q&A about Bag It. Plastic Pollution Coalition is a global alliance of individuals, organizations and businesses working together to stop plastic pollution and its toxic impacts on humans, animals and the environment. Ticket proceeds will support The Plastic Pollution Coalition. (Roz’s note: sorry I didn’t let you know about this one in time!)

On November 27^th at 8:30 PM EST, world-renowned musician and co-founders of the Kōkua Hawaii Foundation Jack Johnson along with his wife Kim Johnson will host a live Q&A about Bag It. Jack & Kim Johnson, founded the Kokua Hawaii Foundation in 2003 to support environmental education in their home state of Hawaii.  Spreading awareness about going plastic free has been a core message of the Johnson’s music tours and philanthropic work. Ticket proceeds will support Kōkua Hawai’i Foundation.

Roz with Marcus Eriksen of 5Gyres (Hawaii, 2008)

On December 4^th at 8 PM EST, the Surfrider Foundation Founder & CEO, Jim Moriarty will host a live Q&A of Bag It. Surfrider’s mission is the protection and enjoyment of oceans, waves and beaches through a powerful activist network. Ticket proceeds will support The Surfrider Foundation.

On December 11^th at 8:30 PM EST Rebecca Sutton of the Environmental Working Group will host a live Q&A about Bag it and how they are utilizing the powerful information in the film to protect public health and the environment. Ticket proceeds will support The Environmental Working Group.

On December 18^th at 8:30 PM EST Anna Cummins & Marcus Erickson of 5 Gyres will host a live Q&A. 5 Gyres is a non-profit organization dedicated to stopping the flow of plastic to our oceans through research, education, and actionable solutions.  Ticket proceeds will support 5 Gyres.

These five events are being hosted by Constellation TV – a new online movie theater platform, The Fledgling Fund & Docudrama  and will begin on Sunday November 20th for 5 weeks.  Tickets are $4.99 at  www.constellation.tv/bagit and a portion of each sale will go back to the VIP hosting organizations.

Other Stuff:

If you are one of those super-organized people that is already getting ready for Christmas, you might be interested to see these Christmas cards from Seaweed Art. 10% of the proceeds will go to O’Neill Sea Odyssey (OSO), because of their great work educating school aged children about our oceans, marine habitats and our urgent need to protect them.

And finally, back to me! Here is a trailer for a forthcoming film called “Plastic Shores”. You might just recognise one of the talking heads….!

Brother Number One is the tragic story of an individual, a family, and an entire country affected by the brutal regime of Pol Pot in Cambodia. Rob’s brother Kerry was sailing off the coast of Cambodia when he was captured by the Khmer Rouge. He was held captive, tortured, and ultimately murdered. The film follows Rob as he visits Cambodia to talk with survivors and perpetrators, and to bear witness at the trial of Duch, the most infamous of the alleged war criminals. I’ve posted my photos of the evening to Flickr.

The saddest part of the film, for me, was when Rob describes how his second brother struggled to cope with the murder of the family’s oldest son, and ultimately threw himself off a cliff to his death. The killing of Kerry spread ripples far beyond the taking of a single life. It reminded me how all actions spread ripples, large or small, good or bad.

Other Stuff:

I took the chance, while I was in the Netherlands, to visit an alumnus of TED Mission Blue who lives in Utrecht. Many thanks to Mike Velings for his kind hospitality. I was most impressed with Utrecht – a smaller, cleaner, less hectic version of Amsterdam, with lovely canals, cobbled streets, and old buildings. I have made this slideshow out of my photos. Enjoy!

The Women’s Eye have just published a nice interview with yours truly. Check it out here.

I have now moved on from the Netherlands to somewhere else in Europe. I’m not going to tell you yet where to…. but listeners to the podcast will be the first to know!

Roz and her Amazing Technicolour Bag Coat. With Trish and Mike from Greener.

Today I met up with the Greener Upon Thames folks in London, donned a coat of plastic bags, and chatted to Mike Dilger on camera for the BBC Inside Out programme. The combination of TV cameras and coat of garbage attracted a number of curious glances from passersby on Westminster Bridge, but that was exactly what we wanted, and we were able to bag (so to speak) a few more signatures for our petition (and yes, that IS a hint for you to sign it too!).

With Mike Dilger of BBC's Inside Out

We then headed over to City Hall to hand over an early Christmas “gift” for Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London. Courtesy of our friends at the 5 Gyres Institute, we presented his representative with a sample of plastic from the North Atlantic Gyre, where we fear many of the Olympic bags could end up if they are not banned.

At City Hall with Boris's Christmas present

Thanks to Greener for mobilising the forces to make this happen at such short notice – and especially to Anna for filming the occasion for the Greener archives, and Stefania for her magnificent effort in staying up until 4am last night sewing bags onto an old coat. Let’s hope that the results will justify the hard work.

I had a great time walking around the village with my new Sony NEX-5N, rediscovering the joys of photography. Wherever I am in the world (or at least, the land-based parts of it), I like to get out for a morning walk. It gets the blood flowing and allows a gentle transition from sleep into wakefulness. The challenge I face is that my brain cranks into top gear very soon after waking, and my walk has all too often been punctuated by pauses while I punch another item into the To Do list on my iPhone. I finish my walk and realise I don’t even know where I’ve been, because all my focus has been on what I have to do that day.

Photography cures this. It takes me into a different mindset, and quietens my chattering brain. I look around me and take notice of my surroundings, searching out interesting or quirky things to photograph. There is plenty of time later on in the day for my brain to get busy, so this hiatus of calm is much appreciated. I arrive back after my walk feeling refreshed rather than stressed before the day has even begun. It’s my walking/photographing meditation.

Here are some of the results – my pictures of Steventon. Enjoy!

The ancient causeway that runs through Steventon. Historians estimate it was built in the mid 13th century.

Moss between the cobbles of the causeway

An ancient ivy

It's the houses that are tilting, not the photographer - honestly!

Jane's house, where I was staying, overlooks the mile-long causeway

With Gregg Treinish (ASC), Jenifer Austin (Google) and Dr Sylvia Earle

For me, it was a great chance to catch up with old ocean-activist friends such as Her Royal Deepness Dr Sylvia Earle, cartoonist Jim Toomey, Marcus and Anna from 5Gyres, Dianna and Daniella from the Plastic Pollution Coalition, and David Helvarg from Blue Frontier Campaign. My panel was chaired by Gregg Treinish of Adventurers and Scientists for Conservation (I am on his board), and I was presenting alongside Alison Gannet, extreme skier, founder of Save Our Snow, and veteran of our team walk from Big Ben to Brussels in 2009.

I am always impressed by Alison. She truly walks the talk (or, in 2009, hobbled the talk, as we all succumbed to some form of decrepitude at some point in our 250-mile hike across the UK, Holland and Belgium). Since I had last seen her in Copenhagen at the COP15 climate change conference, she has bought a farm and now grows all of her own food. She can proudly claim not to have needed to buy groceries for the last 18 months. LAST 18 MONTHS! This is truly astonishing.

Although I have no doubt that it has been tremendously hard work, I can’t help being envious of her for knowing exactly where all her food has come from, and for being secure in the knowledge that it contains no pesticides, herbicides, GMOs or antibiotics. She described the sense of satisfaction she gets when she opens up her root cellar and surveys the supplies of food that will get them through the winter. Check out the Holy Terror Farm page on Facebook. And there is a great article about Alison here.

Alison’s talk focused on the practicalities of her 4-step programme for reducing your carbon footprint, aptly named CROP. It stands for Calculate, Reduce, Offset, and Produce your own energy. Not even having a home, let alone a working farm, my talk concentrated on finding the motivation to make a difference. I thought you might be interested to hear what I said – or, at least, what I intended to say – so I have reproduced the draft of my speech below. So even if you weren’t able to make it to Boulder this weekend, I hope you will at least feel the ripples from Making Waves. Enjoy!

“I used to believe that money could buy me happiness – or at least that money could buy me the big house and the fast car that would make me happy.

I used to believe that the people who had big adventures were a breed apart, and I could no more have a big adventure than I could fly to the moon.

And I used to believe that I was too small and insignificant to make a difference.

Having fun on the light pads at Making Waves

Then I had an epiphany. I was reading a book about the Hopi tribe of the southwestern States, and their belief that we have to look after the Earth if we want it to look after us, and this struck me with all the force of a fundamental truth. Wow, of course. How can humans be happy, and healthy, if we carry on polluting the air and the earth and the oceans? This is our only planet, and if we render it uninhabitable, we don’t have anywhere else to go.

I suddenly saw the world with new eyes. Every time I threw something away, I wondered where it would go, and how long it would last there. Every time I bought something, I wondered if I really needed to buy it new, or if I could have got hold of a used item more cheaply and less impactfully. And conversely, every time I rode my bicycle or walked somewhere instead of driving, I got a feeling of tremendous smugness that I had done a little bit to conserve our resources – not to mention burned a few extra calories.

And I felt the need to share. It really was a good feeling of congruence, and taking responsibility for my personal impact on the planet, and on our future. But I needed a way of getting people’s attention. It was around this time that I had what seemed like a very good idea. You know those moments? The kind of moment you look back on later, and wonder what the hell you were thinking? Well, this was one of those. Either the best, or the worst, idea that I ever had.

With the gung-ho enthusiasm of a person who truly does not understand what she is getting herself into, I announced that I was going to take up my oars and start rowing across oceans as an environmental campaigner. Bizarrely, it has kind of worked. It may seem strange that, rather than thinking that I am barking mad and anything I say should be taken with an oceanful of salt, people actually do come to hear me speak, and take notice. Well – here you are!

But even though you are here and listening, you might be wondering what gives an ocean rower the right to pontificate on the meaning of life, the universe, and everything? It’s a good question, and one that I have thought about a lot. And I believe I do have some authority for my opinions.

There is nothing like twenty foot waves to remind you where human beings stand in the overall scheme of things. While we are on land, we might believe that we have Mother Nature nicely under control, but believe me, when I’m faced with huge waves or adverse winds, or even a silent but stealthy current, I know exactly who is boss.

There is nothing like star-filled nights, or 360-degree sunrises and sunsets, or feeling your boat being rocked by fast-moving schools of yellowfin tuna to remind you what an amazing world, and amazing oceans, we are blessed with.

Some of my onboard resources are renewable, such as electrical power from my solar panels. But others are finite. I have to take all my food with me, and make sure that I don’t use it all up before I reach the end of my voyage. My boat is my life support capsule. It has everything on board that I need to stay alive. I am one person on a tiny boat. But the principle is the same for the world at large. We are 7 billion people on one planet. Certain of our resources are finite. Fossil fuels for example. If we want our species to survive, we need to think carefully about how we use those resources, and not simply burn them up – literally.

And there is nothing like spending five months at sea in a 23-foot rowboat to give you the opportunity to think about what really matters in life, and how little we really need in order to be happy.

On the one hand we are just another animal – when I am at sea I am exceptionally aware of my need for food, water and shelter, just like any other creature. But at the same time, we have been blessed with free will, and the power to project into the future, and with that power comes responsibility. So what do we need to do?

Just do something. We might feel that anything we do as an individual is just a drop in the ocean, that we are too small to make a difference. But every action counts. It has taken me about 5 million oarstrokes to cover 15,000 miles of ocean. One oarstroke doesn’t get me very far, but you take several million of them, and you get across an ocean or three. It really does add up.

Happy!

Our future is being defined by the decisions that we are making, each and every day. We need to think carefully about whether those decisions are taking us the way we want to go, or not. When I did that obituary exercise, I realized that the way I was living each day was not taking me in the right direction. If I carried on with business as usual I was not going to end up with the kind of future that I wanted. And I would suggest that collectively, if we carry on treating the oceans, and the Earth, as we do now, we are not going to end up with the kind of collective future that we want.

I would like to invite you, not just to make waves, but to spread ripples. There is a multiplier effect that spreads out from every action. Everything we think, say, or do has an impact on the world. To take a practical example – you are in the line at the supermarket checkout. As you reach the till and the shop assistant starts swiping your items, you pull out your reusable grocery bag with a flourish and start packing. You glance back at the checkout line and see an odd expression on the face of the person standing behind you. They are looking at your bag. As you pay up and move on, you see that they look a little embarrassed as they accept paper or plastic. And you know that next time they come to the supermarket, they are a little more likely to bring their own. You have made a difference. And one day, when enough of us get on board with the programme, we will make it as socially unacceptable to say yes to so-called “disposable” bags as it has become to use a racial epithet, or smoke in a public place. Cultural change is possible.

As well as believing in the power of the ripple effect, I am a real believer in tipping points. I have to be. I know that I am not going to be able to save the world. I might not even be able to persuade someone not to use “disposable” plastic bags.

There is a story that I came across recently in a book called “Synchronicity” by Joe Jaworski, founder of the American Leadership Forum. It refers more to Alison’s element than to mine, but the point it makes is universal:

“Tell me the weight of a snowflake,” a coal-mouse asked a wild dove.

“Nothing more than nothing,” was the answer.

”In that case, I must tell you a marvelous story,” the coal-mouse said.

“I sat on the branch of a fir, close to its trunk, when it began to snow – not heavily, not in a raging blizzard – no, just like in a dream, without a wound and without any violence. Since I did not have anything better to do, I counted the snowflakes settling on the twigs and needles of my branch. Their number was exactly 3,741,952. When the 3,741,953^rd dropped onto the branch, nothing more than nothing, as you say – the branch broke off.”

Having said that, the coal-mouse flew away.

The dove, since Noah’s time an authority on the matter, thought about the story for a while, and finally said to herself, “Perhaps there is only one person’s voice lacking for peace to come to the world.”

Mick completing his Pacific row in San Francisco last year, with Chris Martin

Andrew’s crossing got off to a rocky start (literally) when he fell and banged his head within the first few days. He was brought back to shore with a concussion. While Andrew was recovering in hospital, his French crewmate decided their bid was over, and returned to France. Andrew emerged from hospital still raring to go, but now lacking a partner. Over a beer or several, he managed to persuade Mick, who was then working for the race organizers Woodvale, to give up the next couple of months of his life to hop in the boat with him and row the Atlantic.

They set out about 10 days behind the rest of the pack. I was most disgruntled as they rapidly gained ground on me and cruised on past. Only kidding – they are great guys. And big and fast.

So if you are in San Francisco and want to come and support them as they raise funds to row the North Atlantic in 2012 (the voyage that I had penciled in, but then thought better of it) then join us for a reception at the Golden Gate Yacht Club at 7pm this Thursday. Andrew will be there, but Mick has had to return to the Indian Ocean to fight pirates. (!)

Then this weekend I will be at the Making Waves event in Boulder. If you are in the area, come and join us at Boulder Public Library between 1pm and 5pm.

Alison Gannett en route to Brussels - carrying skis to gather signatures

My presentation is at 3pm, with Alison Gannett, extreme skier and climate campaigner and veteran of the Big Ben To Brussels walk. Other speakers include Marcus and Anna of the 5 Gyres Institute, Dianna Cohen of the Plastic Pollution Coalition, Margo Pellegrino of Seattle to San Diego paddling fame, Dr Sylvia Earle, Jim Toomey and David Helvarg of Blue Frontier Campaign.

Speaking of Blue Frontier, if you care about our oceans and would like to support their worthwhile work, for TODAY ONLY they are having a fundraiser on Give To The Max. Check it out on their Twitter page!

Phewee. And that’s about all for now. Hope to see you at one of these events sometime soon – or right back here on my website.

Our esteemed Pleiadean founder, Kath, inhales a cheese at Consider Bardwell Farm

Last weekend was a little oasis of calm in the general craziness. I went away with the Pleiades, “a constellation of women working for a sustainable world”. And they are indeed a bunch of stars. I left the weekend feeling re-energised and replenished. And replete. Rarely has so much cheese been eaten by so few (to paraphrase Winston Churchill) We concluded our weekend with a visit to, of course, a cheese producer. Throughout our tour of their facility, I couldn’t stop that classic line from The Life of Brian running through my head: “Blessed are the cheesemakers”. Bless them indeed – after eight years in business they finally turned a profit last year.

I spent the weekend trying out a new camera. My treat to myself as a reward for spending 170 days on the ocean this year. After extensive comparison of the Olympus E-PL1, Panasonic DMC-GH2, Nikon V1 and Sony NEX-5N (all four thirds cameras), I plumped for the Sony. It has interchangeable lenses, but no viewfinder and a removable flash, so it is tiny compared with DSLR cameras – perfect for a global nomad. I gave it an exhaustive test drive over the weekend, and have been delighted with the results. You can see my photos of a pretty New England town, some cute goats and various Pleiadeans in my slideshow of the weekend.

Yesterday I took the train down to Washington, DC. Sitting across the table in the dining car was a smartly dressed man with a Stars and Stripes lapel button, tapping away on his iPad. He must have overheard me talking on the phone and noted my English accent. Shortly before we pulled into Union Station, he asked me how American politics are perceived by the rest of the world. This is not the place to repeat my reply, but suffice to say that we went on to have a fascinating conversation about the state of the world in general, and democracy in particular. It transpired that I had been talking with the man that succeeded Vice President Joe Biden as Senator for Delaware, Chris Coons.

I was quite impressed by him. It was refreshing to meet a politician with intelligence, integrity and humor. He might even have restored my faith in the political system. Just a little.

This morning I had a meeting at the offices of UNEP (the United Nations Environment Programme) to figure out the job description of a Climate Hero. We are still defining it, but hopefully it will involve a lot of speaking in front of people with the power to make a difference at policy level.

Although, come to think of it, I can do that on the Amtrak Acela Express. Who needs conferences? Maybe I’ll just keep changing the world, one train passenger at a time….

Rice Mansion Inn, Cambridge, NY

Other Stuff:

Huge thanks to Christine of the Rice Mansion Inn, Cambridge, NY, and to Sue of Spoonful Catering for a wonderful weekend of warm hospitality and delicious local food. And to all my fellow Pleiadeans for the mental refreshment and the supportive embrace of sisterhood. I’m Pleiadean and I’m proud.

Another fun app: Pano for iPhone. Pic of Central Park taken yesterday from the roof of the apartment where I have been staying.

It seems like a long time since I was able to give expression to my inner geek and write a blog about technology. This Friday I was feeling more computer nerd and less the philosopher, so I hope you will overlook this break from schedule while I share with you my top five productivity-enhancing applications.

None of them are new, for which I make no apology. Like my dear old boat, they are tried and tested and found to work. And with my life still being a hectic whirl, I rely on them to help me maintain some semblance of control over my personal administration. These apps are not all free, but for the amount of time and hassle they save me, the modest cost is money well spent.

These are my personal favourites, but if you know of other amazingly cool and helpful apps, for Mac or iPhone, please post a comment and let me know. I’ve been a little out of the loop, so may have missed out on exciting new developments!

And so, without further ado, may I wholeheartedly recommend:

1. Evernote

I use this to save and organize everything from web clippings to wine labels to flight details to Amazon orders to invitations from the Queen. A little elephant icon in my browser (Safari) allows me to save a page to Evernote with a single click. Notes get automatically synchronised to the Evernote app on my iPhone. The excellent character recognition means I can easily retrieve notes without having to spend precious minutes tagging and organizing. Great stuff.

2. Things

This is how I capture To Do items on iPhone or laptop, then organize them and schedule them. Hey, sometimes I even actually do them. Synchronization from iPhone to MacBook via a WiFi network can be a little temperamental, but works more often than not. There are other great To Do list managers out there, but this one is simple to use. To paraphrase Einstein, Things is as simple as possible, but not simpler.

3. Text Expander

This saves me hours. You set up an abbreviation for your frequently used paragraphs or phrases, and when you type the abbreviation from any application on your laptop, it automatically expands to the full text with a satisfying little popping noise. So, for example, if I type “sf”, it automatically expands to “San Francisco”. Or “ttbio” expands to my preferred bio. Very useful indeed. You can even include images in the text, if you wanted to include a logo or other image in your standard sign-off. Apparently it can be installed on iPhone as well, although I haven’t explored that yet.

4. 1Password

If you’re anything like me, you have dozens of different logins for various websites. 1Password enables you to save them all in a password-protected vault, and to automatically fill in the ID and password and submit them. It can also generate ultra-secure passwords for you. I use the “Wallet” area to store my credit card details, so I can quickly copy and paste them when ordering online. Again, a button in Safari allows me quick access to the login details when I need them.

5. TripIt

When not traveling at 2 knots in a rowboat, I am constantly on the move, and my itinerary can become mind-bogglingly complicated. Tripit makes life so much easier. When I book a flight, bus or train journey, I simply email my confirmation email to plans@tripit.com. Tripit automagically generates calendar events corresponding to my journeys, with all the relevant details. As the time of a flight approaches, it sends me texts and/or emails to let me know when I can check in. On the day of travel, it sends me texts to let me know if the flight is on time, and what gate it is departing from. When I land, it tells me which baggage claim to go to. If only everything in life was as simple…

Other Stuff:

Today, a journey that Tripit can’t help me with. I’m off to Cambridge, New York, for the annual retreat of the Pleiades Network, a constellation of women working for a sustainable world. Very much looking forward to a weekend of putting the world to rights.

Then I am getting the train down to DC for a couple of meetings, including catching up with my friends at the United Nations Environment Program to discuss just what a Climate Hero does for a living.

After that, a few days free format before I am due in Boulder for the Making Waves event. Colorado may not be an obvious location for an ocean symposium, but the health of the ocean affects us all, coastal community or not. I am looking forward to reconnecting with Dr Sylvia Earle and the many other ocean luminaries due to attend, as well as a long overdue reunion with Alison Gannett, one of my walking companions on 2009′s Big Ben To Brussels hike. We will be doing a joint presentation on Sunday Nov 13th.

Must run. But finally, a big GOOD LUCK!!! to all the runners in Sunday’s New York Marathon. I did the race back in 1998, my first marathon. And look what that led to…!

Along the same lines, I am a little mystified when people say to me, “Welcome back to reality” as I return from an ocean voyage. To me, the ocean is about as real as it gets.  I am made keenly aware of where my food and water come from, and am brought face to face on a daily basis with my all-too-human frailty in comparison with the power of nature. Living in houses and getting our food from well-stocked supermarkets may give us the impression of being protected from the vagaries of nature, but it takes no more than a tornado or a tsunami to shatter that illusion. So which of these realities is the more real?

Quite possibly being convinced of one’s own sanity is actually a symptom of one’s insanity, but enough smart people seem to agree with me to make me believe that my worldview has some merit. What is sane about a civilisation that daily trashes the planet on which it depends for its very existence? What is real about a food supply that depends on genetically modified organisms patented by a handful of powerful corporations?

I don’t mean to sound critical or self-righteous here. But spending months alone at sea does lend a unique perspective. Like the gorilla in Daniel Quinn’s Ishmael (one of the most -life-changing books I have ever read) I feel at the same time part of, yet one step removed from, the human race. Looking in from the outside, it seems to me that our present path towards self-destruction is the insanity, broken here and there by refreshing – and increasing – outcrops of sanity.

But once in a while, some worthwhile bits of paper come into my life…. Herein follow some general updates, in which paper plays an unusually significant part.

On Saturday I was at Broadcasting House for BBC Radio 4′s Excess Baggage. If you missed the live show, you can still listen to it online here.

One of my four world record certificates

Great fun was had by all at the Ocean Rowing Society Dinner at London Rowing Club on Saturday night. Back in 2004, just a few weeks after I had decided to row the oceans, I went to the Ocean Rowing Weekend in Torquay and had a long and informative conversation with rower Graham Walters. On Saturday we once again talked at length, during which he conceded that there is no longer very much he can teach me about ocean rowing. It gave me a pleasing sense of having come full circle – literally (around the world via the 3 big oceans) as well as figuratively.

I also received four Guinness certificates for my four world records, which have now been confirmed as:

- longest row completed by a solo woman

- first woman to row the Pacific solo

- first woman to row three oceans

- longest total time at sea by a female ocean rower

Yesterday (Sunday) I went to a fascinating talk by Jeremy Naydler, author of Gardening As A Sacred Art. He described the “beautiful uselessness” of ornamental gardening as an antidote to the prevailing view of nature as a resource to be pillaged and exploited for mankind’s benefit. Very thought-provoking. It also turned out that, by strange coincidence, his father was the author of a book about ocean rowing: The Penance Way, about Hoare and Johnstone’s fatal voyage across the North Atlantic in 1966. It reminded me how very happy I am NOT to be doing the North Atlantic next year.

Last night I dined in formal hall at my old college, University College Oxford. I was delighted to find George Cawkwell also dining at high table. George is now 92 years old and retired from active duty as a Classics tutor, but is still as sharp as a tack. A great testament to the virtues of living an engaged and active life.

Invitation from the Queen

And finally, some exciting news. An invitation from the Queen (via the Master of the Household) to attend an event on 8th December at Buckingham Palace, to be attended by explorers and adventurers to mark the centenary of the death of Scott of the Antarctic - another in that fine British tradition of adventurers who died on expedition. Maybe it is just as well that I quit rowing while I was ahead – and alive.

I was surprised and enlightened by the response to my off-the-cuff comments about the pace of life and the ubiquity of social media. I seem to have struck a chord. If so many of us want to slow down, why are we all still going so fast?

An oasis of slow living in the midst of a fast life: lunch at Angelo's forge

A large part of the reason, surely, has to be the peer pressure to always be available. Ever since I returned to dry land, I have been fighting a losing battle with my Inbox. The messages are exciting and they are welcome, but there are so very many of them. I would like to think that this is because I am so spectacularly popular (!) but in truth, this seems to be a pervasive problem that is shared by most of my friends. We all wish we had less email, more time.

Don’t get me wrong. Communication is good. Relationships are essential to happiness and wellbeing. But how do we ensure that we don’t sacrifice quality to quantity? How do we make sure that we don’t mistake communication for connection? It is easy to communicate with somebody, but harder to truly connect with them on an emotional and energetic level that enhances the lives of both individuals.

One of my back-to-dry-land resolutions is to work at making time to have deep and meaningful conversations. Ideally in person, but it is possible to be deep and meaningful online too – if you have enough time. So far, my resolution has not been particularly successful. My rushed lunch at Angelo’s forge. My hectic schedule across 4 cities in 2 weeks. It is far easier said than done.

I remember back to the summer of 2004, my own personal “Summer of Love” – love for the world, love for my new life, love for the limitless opportunities opening up to me when I let go of the fears and limitations of my old life. Time was on my side. I allowed conversations to reach their natural conclusions. I took time to enjoy the smell and sight of a flower, or to enjoy the shade of a tree, or to savour a meal break away from my laptop.

Magic ensued. I had that blinding flash of inspiration to row across oceans to raise environmental awareness. I had allowed my subconscious the time and space to percolate the inputs and produce an output. I yearn for that to happen again.

When my consciousness is being bombarded by input, there is no opportunity for the outputs to happen. It’s like the ideas are trying to get out through a doorway that is jammed by incoming traffic. At this formative stage of my life, as I consider my plans for the next 7 years, I need to relax, slow down, kick back, and allow the wisdom to emerge.

How do you make me-time in your busy day? I’d love to hear from you.

Other Stuff:

I have just arrived in London, via a busy 36 hours in New York. I am here until Sunday, before heading to Oxford. A quick glimpse into my diary:

Friday: various meetings with agents, collaborators, and friends in London

Saturday: interview on ”Excess Baggage” on BBC Radio 4 with John McCarthy, who may know a thing or two about being confined in small spaces. In the evening, receiving Guinness world records certificates at the Ocean Rowing Society dinner.

Sunday: afternoon event in Oxford to hear Jeremy Naydler talking about his book, Gardening As A Sacred Art, then dinner at my Oxford alma mater, University College

Monday-Tuesday: staying in Oxfordshire with my friend Jane Hornsby, who was our fearless navigator on the walk from Big Ben To Brussels in 2009

Wednesday: back to New York!

With Angelo Garro and Michael Ondaatje

One of the most formative books I listened to this summer while at sea was The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan. And one of my favourite poets is Michael Ondaatje, who also wrote The English Patient.

So what could possibly be better than being invited to attend a small, select lunch with Dr Aenor Sawyer (my esteemed expedition medic), Michael Ondaatje, Kitchen Sister Davia Nelson, and two characters from the Omnivore’s Dilemma – forager/blacksmith Angelo Garro and landowner Richard Hylton? It was a dream come true!

"And then I rowed this ocean..."

The only problem was that my schedule was already chockablock, and Michael was only briefly in town. But somehow we managed to shoehorn in a lunch at Angelo Garro’s forge in downtown San Francisco. So even though it seemed a horrible contradiction in terms, I had a QUICK lunch prepared by one of the leading proponents of the SLOW Food movement before dashing off to a prior commitment.

A slow food lunch

Angelo’s forge is an Aladdin’s cave of metal objects, hanging from and resting upon every available surface. But his kitchen is full of light, a huge chandelier hanging over the dining table. Plates of paper-thin home-cured ham accompanied rose wine, before we moved on to home-made pasta with pesto sauce, sausages, and salad.

It was the kind of lunch – and the kind of company – that deserved an entire, leisurely, relaxed afternoon. We weren’t able to do that this time around. But it felt like one of those meetings that is just the beginning of some very special friendships. I felt very lucky to meet these amazing and talented people.

Cheers! To the health of the planet!

Angelo has offered to take me foraging the next time I am in the Bay Area. As Vic and I have discussed extensively in our podcast, self-reliant people are resilient people. Knowing how to find your own food – other than on the shelves of the nearest supermarket – is an empowering skill to have. So far, the full extent of my foraging is a single mushroom-hunting expedition with a friend in England. Mushrooms are great, but not much to live on. So I am looking forward to learning more. I’ve also spotted some great courses organized by the Low Impact Living Initiative in Britain, which I will be checking out when I have the time.

After a few days in DC (more info in my next blog) I am now in New York for 24 hours before heading back to Britain for a week. I’ve got a busy day of meetings tomorrow, including seeing Margaret Lydecker of Green Drinks NYC, Joan from Atlanta, and dialling in to the board meeting of Adventurers and Scientists for Conservation. Lots of good stuff happening. Stay tuned!

Upcoming Appearances:

- On BBC Radio Four: Excess Baggage, this coming Saturday morning., 29th October. Available online or as a podcast.

- Making Waves in Colorado, 13th November

But thanks to Nick Jaffe, my ever-intrepid webmaster, it seems that we have overcome the gremlins and are now back online. Isn’t it ironic that despite the patchy satphone coverage in the Indian Ocean, my blogging was more consistent then than it has been since landfall?! Thanks for hanging on in there, and from now on we should be back in business.

So much to catch up on, but for now here is the blog that I have been trying to post for the last couple of weeks. Much more soon to come…

I am often asked how it feels to be back on dry land after spending so much time alone on the ocean. There are definitely some interesting aspects during re-entry to so-called “civilization”. So what are my first impressions, now that I have been back on terra firma for 11 days?

First, everybody is so BUSY! And things move so fast. People are rushing to post photos, reply to emails, send an update, return a call. On the ocean I usually only logged onto my email once a day. I would write my emails and store them in the outbox, then try to get a data connection (which could take anything up to half an hour). The software would then upload my outgoing emails, and download my incoming emails. Replies had to wait until I logged on again the next day, so the turnaround time was often 48 hours or more. And you know what? The world didn’t stop turning because I hadn’t replied within 5 minutes. When did everything get so hectic?

Second, everybody is occupying everything. Wall Street, London, Toronto. Even Obama. I haven’t had time yet to figure out how I feel about this. For sure, our financial system is teetering. But what are the protesters offering as an alternative? It’s easy to point out the obvious, but less easy to come up with a solution. But awareness is a very important first step, and as soon as they are FOR something rather than against it. I will be there.

Third, after five months away, social media seems to be bigger than ever. The Trasher’s Ball in LA was extensively Facebooked, including the second time in a week that I have been caught on camera in the act of dancing badly. The first time I had the excuse that I had just stepped off a boat. The second time that excuse was getting a bit out of date. Even our little party at Greens in San Francisco last night was posted all over Facebook. And now we have Google+ as well. Wow. After being so very much off the grid, this immediacy is a major upshift in tempo, and I’m still trying to adjust. Are we all really happy with this, or is it occasionally just a tiny bit stressful?!

I had wondered if there would be exciting new technological developments to tempt me to spend my money. Fortunately, temptation seems to be thin on the ground. The new iPhone is nothing to get too excited about. No disrespect to the late and much-missed Steve Jobs. I’ll hang onto my 3GS until the 5 comes out.

Other than that, the world seems much the same. There are still advertisers trying to sell us stuff we don’t need. There are still politicians saying things that strain the bounds of credulity. There is still too much plastic, too much food going to waste, and too much traffic on the roads. But still occasional outbreaks of common sense and random acts of kindness. ‘Tis a strange and wonderful world.

And, all things told, I am very happy to be back in it.

The pool where I had my morning swim

I have met many wonderful people here – with special thanks to Michel and Anne Bourgeois at 20 Degrees South, Pipo at the Grand Baie Yacht Club, Jean-Edgar Merle who has helped out in so many ways as well as throwing a fantastically decadent dinner party for me and Team Roz, Nicholas Weiss who hosted an afternoon event for me at his home on the east coast, and the TV folks at MBC.

I’d like to say a bit more about 20 Degrees South. There is a certain kind of hotel that I daydream about as I row across oceans. I very rarely stay in hotels, generally staying with friends whose company I cherish, and to save on cost and environmental impact – but I have to confess that there is nothing like the feel of crisp, white sheets tautly stretched across a comfortable hotel mattress to make me feel truly blissful. Just imagine how good that feels after 5 months of sleeping in an increasingly itchy and malodorous sleeping bag!

Amazing towel sculptures awaited me every night on those crisp white sheets!

Over the years of my ocean rowing career I have been lucky enough to stay in some wonderful places – the Admiral’s Inn in Antigua, the Outrigger in Waikiki, the Madang Resort in Papua New Guinea – and now 20 Degrees South in Mauritius. (We shall draw a tactful veil over the Hotel Otintaai in Tarawa, which was…. interesting. Kind of a cross between Fawlty Towers and Prisoner Cell Block H.)

20 Degrees South is up there with the best of them. A little slice of boutique hotel heaven, and eco-friendly to boot. Breakfast jam, instead of coming in disposable plastic pots, comes in elegant little glasses with tiny jam spoons. Milk for your tea comes in cute mini milk bottles. Laundry bags are fabric, not plastic, and room keys have to be inserted in a slot to activate aircon and lights, ensuring guests don’t leave electricity burning when they leave the room.

Dinky little jam pot, about an inch across

I’d like to thank Michel and Anne for their warm hospitality, and for doing their bit to make the world a better, greener place.

I would also like to make a special thank you to the Grand Baie Yacht Club for hosting a presentation last Friday night. The event was a victim of its own success – the paltry 7 copies of Rowing The Atlantic that we had managed to obtain was far outstripped by demand, so apologies to those who did not manage to get a copy. If you email me via the contact form on this website, I will get hold of some more copies, sign them, and send them to you.

So where to next?

I am writing this blog en route to Los Angeles, where tomorrow I will be meeting Diana Nyad, the amazing 62-year-old ultra-distance swimmer, to further the acquaintance we started via Skype last week (video here, filmed at 20 Degrees South). On Thursday you can catch me at a Green Drinks/Surfrider event. At the Trashers Ball I will be making a short presentation – and my debut as a model! I’ll be wearing a trashy creation by designer Marina De Bris (geddit?!) and my good friends from the 5 Gyres Institute, Marcus Eriksen and Anna Cummins, will also be on the catwalk.

Then on Friday I’m off to San Francisco. ALL ARE WELCOME for celebratory drinks at Greens Restaurant in Fort Mason from 5pm until about 9pm on Friday, 14th October.

After a round of meetings in San Francisco I’m off to New York, from 22nd to 26th October. No plans as yet for any public appearances or events there, but I will keep you posted if that changes.

And finally…. my apologies for general bloglessness for the last 5 or 6 days. I had a wonderful time in Mauritius but it was exceedingly busy, and this is the first moment I have had to myself. From now on I should be able to post a blog every 3 or 4 days. And, of course, I will still be podcasting with Vic over at Roz Roams every week. So stay tuned!

Roz is delighted to announce that the Ocean Rowing Society has verified new records held by her:

Finished in Mauritius on October 4th 2011 at 6:27GMT

Congratulations to Roz on becoming
The First Woman and The First British person to Row Three Oceans; the longest row completed by a woman. and the longest total time at sea spent by a woman rower.

Roz is dealing with interviews and practical details concerning the cleaning up and sorting out of everything on Sedna. She is very grateful to all who have helped to make this possible, major sponsors, the many followers who sponsored her miles, but also those who took part by commenting and showing interest in what she has been doing. Without your help and encouragement she could not have achieved these results.

I wish to express my gratitude, too, for your generous help to Roz, and to myself, making it possible for me to be here in Mauritius for her arrival.

Last night we had a meal together to celebrate her records and also to thank her “arrivals team” all of whom have done a sterling job: Tony Humphreys (logistics), Aenor Sawyer (doctor and doer of all sorts of other tasks), and Colin Leonhardt (photographer and taxi-man)

Other friends have been here, too assisting with a thousand and one tasks to be done. We are grateful to the 20degrees-South Hotel for kindly accommodating Roz during her stay here at Grand Bay.

Rita Savage.

I’ve done it! After 5 months and 0 days at sea, I am absolutely over the moon to be back on dry land, surrounded by friends and wellwishers – and, of course, my dear mother. I have just become the first woman to row across the “Big Three” oceans of the world – the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian.

I’d like to thank all my blog readers for your unwavering support over
the course of this very, very long final voyage. You have been a source
of tremendous inspiration, encouragement, information and amusement. I
hope that you were able to participate in at least part of my final
countdown to landfall, no matter what time zone you are in, and that you feel a vicarious pride in my achievement. We’ve been through a lot
together – the highs and lows, capsizes and pratfalls, triumphs and
setbacks.

To mark this momentous occasion, I’ve put together a summary of the
highlights – and lowlights – of Eat-Pray-Row, my solo crossing of the
Indian Ocean. As I started writing it, I found that almost all of my
notable moments started with an F. So here we have it – Roz’s Effing
Guide to Eat-Pray-Row.

Fremantle

It was 14th April when I first set out from Fremantle. Col Leonhardt
produced a wonderful video to mark the occasion. I had hoped to row nonstop from there to Mauritius. Little did I know….

False Start

Within the first few days, in rough weather off the coast of Western Australia, it became apparent that my brand new locker hatches lacked one vital feature – keeping water out. Maybe that cost extra. Concerned that my watermaker would not respond well to being flooded, I decided to pull in at Geraldton for pre-emptive work to relocate the watermaker pump. Unfortunately I picked a holiday weekend, and it must have been a slow one for news, because it all turned into a big hullaballoo, which was most embarrassing.

But thanks to a magnificent display of Aussie kindness, hospitality and “mateship” the problems were quickly addressed and I was once again on my way, only to discover two days later that my solar panels were not charging my batteries. No sooner had I made this discovery than I came on deck and saw a sliver of golden sand on the horizon. Neptune had very kindly flung the Abrolhos Islands exactly the right distance out into the ocean. Glenn, the Geraldton electrician, flew out to the tiny airstrip, located the problem, identified a workaround, and once again I was on my way.

Fun

Early in the row, we had a craze for limericks. Never before has the English language been so misused in the search for rhymes, and the less said about some of them, the better. However, some of them were quite good. My favourite came from Joan Sherwood in Atlanta:

There was a young rower named Roz
Whose oars were quite rough on her paws
But she pulled on tenaciously
And thanked sponsors quite graciously
After all it was for a great cause.

I also have to thank Joan for proposing that readers send in their jokes to keep my spirits up. The response was incredible!

Food

Eating alone at sea is a wonderful excuse for “kiddy cooking” – taking
various yummy things and mixing them together into unlikely combinations that I would never consider eating in polite company. I had an additional excuse on this voyage, as it became evident early on that the voyage would take longer than was expected, and I might run low on food. So I had to make sure that every calorie on board was put to good use. A last-minute sponsorship had put 12 tins of Red Feather canned butter in the storecupboard, so just about everything got slathered in butter.

Two of my best creations were Cococompote (aka Roz’s Purple Wonder Breakfast and Chocobutter (Wilderness Family Naturals hot chocolate + butter + salt). Other favourites were Karen Morss’s Lemon Ladies marmalade and plum jam, Samudra nuts (especially the Cosmic Love Clusters) and the “mock turkey” and “pizza base” rawfood crackers made specially for me by ROAR Foods. And, of course, I couldn’t cross an ocean without my trusty Larabars and beansprouts.

Five Favourite Audiobooks

Man’s Search For Meaning (Viktor Frankl) – deep, meaningful, and inspiring
Change of Heart (Jodi Picoult) – thought-provoking fiction about the things we choose to believe
The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay) – an autobiographical insight into South Africa, hard-hitting yet funny
Straight Man (Richard Russo) – laugh out loud hilarious, great characters
All of the Maisie Dobbs books (Jacqueline Winspear) – wonderful detective stories set in 1930s London

Fish

One of my abiding memories of the Indian Ocean will be the companionship of the “chaps downstairs”, especially the dorados. A growing community gathered beneath my hull, until there were about 7 regulars and a school of another twenty or so who dropped in from time to time. They were a constant source of entertainment, with their acrobatic leaps and resounding bellyflops. As time wore on, they became increasingly bold, flicking water at me with their tails, and banging the bottom of the boat with their bodies when they thought it was time I got a move on.

Things would get really lively when the yellowfin tuna came by. A hundred or more of them would school around my boat, occasionally making the surface of the water seethe with activity. Throw a couple of dorados into the mix, and it could turn into an absolute frenzy.

In the absence of human contact, or even a smiley volleyball a la Castaway, the fish became my new best friends.

Failures

I hate to think of anything as a failure. Provided you learn something from it, it’s a success, right? But it started with an “f”. Or I suppose we could call this section “F***-ups”, but that’s a bit rude.

Even after the pitstop in the Abrolhos, the electrical system was an ongoing source of stress. A control unit had developed a fault that required frequent attention, until it eventually failed completely.I overcame my fear of all things electrical, performed a triple bypass surgery on the unit, and had no further problems.

Other casualties included two tracking units, several iPods, 3 sets of
earbuds, and a GPS chartplotter. A capsize in high seas towards the end
of the voyage did me no favours, breaking two oars, two antennae (VHF
radio and Sea-Me radar enhancer) and shattering my washbucket.

Fear

Yes, I’ve been afraid – numerous times. Flinching at the sound of onrushing waves, wondering if they are going to capsize the boat. Afraid that the electrical system would fail completely, disabling the electrical watermaker and forcing me back onto the manual version. And, occasionally, a faint fear that this ocean really would go on forever and I would never make landfall. But I survived, and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Philosophy Fridays

I was concerned that my more abstract musings might not be to
everybody’s taste, so I proposed confining my philosophical blogs to
Fridays. Gradually they became the highlight of my blogging week, at
least as far as I was concerned and, I think, for many of my readers
too. I really enjoyed reading the feedback in the comments, and your
input fueled many a happy afternoon’s ponderings on the ocean.

If you enjoyed our Philosophy Fridays, you might enjoy revisiting some
of these blogs:

Day 29: Man’s Search For Meaning
Day 40: World’s Beyond
Day 73: The Tales We Tell Ourselves
Day 108: We Must Believe in Free Will – We Have No Choice
Day 129: Just Do Something

Friendship

I have often felt the force of friendship this year – from the friends old and new in Australia, the old faithfuls on the blog, and the newcomers who have brought a fresh perspective. I hope that, even though I am now hanging up my oars, we will stay in touch, and that many more of you will become face-to-face friends as well as blog and Facebook friends.

Flastic

Okay, maybe I’m starting to strain the F-theme a bit now. But I couldn’t
post a whole blog with no mention of my current environmental cause -
banning theplastic bag. We are still waiting with baited breath to hear the news from London. I will let you know as soon as I hear anything. Meanwhile, please keep refusing, reducing, reusing, repurposing and recycling your plastics – and we WILL save the world from the plastic peril, one bag or one city-wide ban at a time.

Fank Yous

Special thank yous to “Team Roz” – Mum, June, Vic, Doug, Sandra, Aimee, Aenor, Lee,
and Tom. Also to sponsors, supporters, sponsor-a-milers, and of course
all my wonderful Rozlings. I would also like to make a special mention
of Timothy Ray, my young friend who died unexpectedly soon after the start of my row . Thank you, Tim for being such an inspiration. I hope you would have been proud of me this year.

I was especially touched by the amazing response to our “Send Rita To See Roz” appeal. I had been a bit nervous about asking for your support once again after so many of you had generously sponsored miles through the Nomaddica page, but I should never have doubted you.

We reached our target in double-quick time, and it was wonderful to hear that my mother had been able to book her flights to Mauritius – a
wonderful treat for her, especially after having spent so much of the
summer in a cast after breaking her leg.

I will be sending out individual thank you emails to all my sponsors
just as soon as I can. Please be patient with me – I have a lot to be
grateful for, and a lot of people to be grateful to!

And finally, a respectful nod and a prayer to Neptune, for being so kind
as to allow me to cross the Indian Ocean. I will now stop bugging him
with requests to rearrange the weather especially for my benefit.

Future

I certainly won’t be resting on my laurels – well, maybe for a few days,
but then I’ll be once more back in action. I have lots of plans for the
next chapter of my life, including another two books (one environmental,
based on the Pacific row, and one based on the Hopi Elders guidelines
for self-reliance), a film about the Pacific row, and creating a
foundation to support the next generation of changemakers. Meanwhile, I will be making a number of public and semi-public appearances, and it
would be great to see you at any of the following. I am especially
excited about the Himalaya trip!

San Francisco: I will be in the city for a week later this month and we will be having an informal celebration at the Dolphin Club on Jefferson Street. I hope that all my friends in the Bay Area will be able to come and join us. Please watch this website for details and/or RSVP to Jay Gosuico,at outsidejay@gmail.com

Edinburgh: for any old Univ-ites in Scotland, I will be attending the
Univ dinner in Edinburgh on 22nd October (private event, by invitation
only).

London: I will be attending the Ocean Rowing Society Dinner at the RAC
Club on 29th October.

USA: I will once again be speaking as part of the National Geographic
Live series next February:
7th and 8th Feb: Phoenix, Arizona
20th Feb: Dallas
We are in the process of putting together further speaking dates in the
US – details to follow.

Himalayas: in October/November 2012 I will be escorting an expedition to
the Himalayas for World Expeditions. The 25-day Everest High Passes trip
takes in base camp, the tough but rewarding viewpoint of Kala Pattar and 3 alpine passes above 5000m along the way. 10% of the cost of each participant will go to an environmental charity of my choice.

Meanwhile, if you’re missing me already (?!) you can get a Roz-fix by
readingRowing the Atlantic: Lessons Learned on the Open Ocean (See all Memoirs) my book , watching my Atlantic film (downloadable) – or by continuing to check in at this website. I will be blogging from time to time with news about events, speaking engagements, and hopefully the success of our plastic bag campaign. And who knows, I may even throw in the occasional Philosophy Friday for good measure.

But right now, my immediate future consists of heading to my hotel room for a shower, and later a slap-up meal.

Pictures courtesy of Colin Leonhardt, Bird’s EyeView Photography.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Roz Savage Celebrates After Setting World Record at Gunners Coin

After rowing over 4,000 miles of pirate-infested ocean Roz Savage crossed the official line of longitude at 0627 UTC on 4th of October, 2011 becoming the First Woman to Row Across the “Big Three” Oceans of the World: the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans

Roz Savage crossed official line of longitude at 0627 UTC

The Ocean Rowing Society International issued a message, “This is a really fantastic achievement, please pass to Roz our sincere admiration and congratulations! We are prepared to submit Guinness Records a list of the records Roz is entitled to and will inform you about it shortly.”

When Roz set out to row the Atlantic, critics said, “She isn’t tall enough or strong enough to row an ocean.” But at last, after rowing 15,000 miles, taking over 5 million oar strokes, and spending over 500 days at sea, Roz Savage has set a world record and accomplished her goal. What motivates Roz Savage to row the oceans? It is her mission to show that each one of us has a role in fostering environmental sustainability and creating our collective future. Just like her oar-strokes, many tiny actions add up to a big achievement.

Colin Leonhardt provided an aerial video of Roz Savage as she departed on the Indian Ocean from Australia.

Roz Savage Sets And Celebrates World Record: Video by Colin Leonhardt Photo Credit; BVPVISUALS.COM

On April 21st Roz was questioning her career options. She wrote, “Surely there have to be easier ways to spread the good green word. By 9pm my boat had been knocked down twice already, big waves had knocked her over to an angle of greater than 90 degrees. Imagine someone abruptly rotating your bedroom through 90 degrees. It’s not that much fun. On the second knockdown a torrent of water came gushing into the cabin through one of the ventilation holes, which I had pressed into service as an outlet for my satphone antenna cable so I could put a patch antenna on the cabin roof. Clearly I was going to have to remove the antenna so I could close the ventilation hole. But getting out of my bunk and going out into the wild night was about as appealing as root canal surgery. Taking my knife between my teeth in time-honoured fashion, I reluctantly ventured out onto the darkness of the deck. It was wild out there – blowing a gale, boat pitching, water flying everywhere. I velcro’d on the ankle leash for safety and turned back to the cabin roof to cut down the antenna. But something else caught my eye – one of my spare oars was flapping uselessly, the spoon broken right across, hanging on only by a few wood fibres…”

Roz (age 43) freely admits to being an unlikely adventurer. She is only 5’4″, and was already in her late thirties by the time she started ocean rowing, having spent the first eleven years of her adult life working as a management consultant in London. Her life changed when she wrote two versions of her own obituary – the one she wanted and the one she was heading for – and realized she wasn’t on track for the kind of life that would leave a worthwhile legacy. She turned her back on her materialistic lifestyle and reinvented herself as an adventurer, using her ocean voyages to raise awareness and inspire action on environmental issues.

“On the ocean, it’s clear that I have to keep showing up day after day and sticking my oars in the water if I want to get to where I’m going. It’s the same with any big challenge, including the environment. We all have to start living more sustainably, and keep up those good habits day after day, if we are to correct our course for a cleaner, greener, brighter future.” Roz Savage

The Grand Baie Coast Guard monitored her arrival and ‘shadow’ from Gunners Coin. Roz Savage was escorted by; Tony Humphreys (Water Logistics Manager) Colin Leonhardt (Videographer), Dr. Aenor Sawyer (Expedition Medic) along with members of the press and MBC News through the Coin Channel to the Grand Baie Yacht Club in Grand Baie, Mauritius, on October 4th, 2011. Roz was warmly greeted by her Mum and Team Captain, Rita Savage, who had been eagerly awaiting Roz’s arrival at the dock. Immigration, Health and Customs Officials attended at the time of arrival and conducted the official formalities at GBYC.

Roz Savage is a United Nations Climate Hero and an Athlete Ambassador for 350.org. She is a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society, an International Fellow of the Explorers’ Club of New York (ditto link), and has been listed amongst the Top Twenty Great British Adventurers by the Daily Telegraph (ditto link it). In 2010 she was named Adventurer of the Year by National Geographic .
Her inspirational book, “Rowing the Atlantic: Lessons Learned on the Open Ocean”, is published by Simon & Schuster. The eponymous documentary has been screened around the world in association with the Banff Mountain Film Festival.

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For further information and to schedule interviews:
In the USA and Canada please contact:
Sandra Vaughn, Development Specialist for Roz Savage, (971) 373-8095; sandra.vaughn.pm@gmail.com