I spent this morning lamenting the passing of my GPS chartplotter (model 265C, if you’re interested). I reminisced about the formative experiences we have been through since it was first installed on Sedna in Hawaii in 2008. I thought of the photographs I have of its little screen showing 180 degrees East (the International Date Line) and shortly thereafter, 0 degrees North (the Equator). I remembered how it has counted me down from an impossibly large number of miles to, eventually, zero, as I arrived at my destination.
By this afternoon I had set up my backup GPS (the very basic Garmin eTrex) with my route, and to use my preferred units for position and distance, and was pretty much over my faithful old 276C.
It’s not that I’m fickle. Just that there’s no point wishing I still had something that I don’t. I could choose to be annoyed by the demise of the chartplotter, or I could choose to lay it to rest and move on. The latter seemed the less emotionally exhausting option.
I thought my motivation might drop off when I couldn’t watch the miles or the degrees ticking down on the GPS display as I rowed, but in fact the opposite has been the case. Instead of focusing on the rowing and the numbers, more of my brain has been available to indulge in the welcome distraction of audiobooks (currently Bridge of Sighs“, by Richard Russo).
All of which has served to remind me of the endless and marvellous adaptability of the human animal. We tend to dread change out of all proportion to the reality of it. “Oh no, we couldn’t possibly do without….”, when in fact we very possibly can.
This is one of my arguments in favour of a simpler, less environmentally impactful life. I’m not saying we should return to the stone age – I like my toys as much as the next geek. I’m just saying that we might surprise ourselves what we can manage without, and how quickly we would adapt to our new “normal”.
And wouldn’t it be good if we made those changes as a matter of choice, while we can still select what we keep and what we can do without, before those decisions are thrust upon us?
Today has been grey. Unrelenting, unremitting, grey. Grey sea, grey sky. Thanks heavens for this big bold splash of purple.
Apparently my comms problems are due, at least in part, to solar activity, which is due to calm down after June 10. Here’s hoping…
George Sackett – you asked about the purple flash at sundown. I’ve heard of the green flash, but not a purple one. Are you sure you haven’t caught “purplitis” from my frequent mentions of all things purple?! Either way, alas, I haven’t seen a flash of either colour, despite always looking out for it. Maybe one day!
Jay – thanks for the plentiful supply of verbs. I will attempt to live up to them, and certainly felt invigorated after reading them.
Apropos of verbs, it’s funny thinking about the “Eat Pray Row” moniker. All three most definitely present and correct. During those two false starts from Australia, I made the most of my time ashore by having repeated “last suppers” (not to mention last breakfasts and last lunches too!). I just about ate the Davidsons out of house and home during my unscheduled pit stop on North Island (sorry, Mike, for scoffing so many of your hot cross buns!). During the knockdowns there was a fair amount of praying going on. And now, thank heavens, we’re into the rowing phase, although I am sure that there will be much more eating and praying too before the story is over….
Sponsored Miles: Donna Perry, Vicki Jackson and Don Lunge – thank you!