One of the really great things about rowing across oceans is that it is logistically very difficult to quit. Once you’ve set out into the prevailing wind, you rapidly reach the point of no return, as any attempt to row back to land would require you to row into the teeth of the headwind.
Once you’re further out to sea, quitting is theoretically an option. If you’re rowing in a race, as I was for the Atlantic crossing, you can ask for a race support yacht to come and pick you up, as happened to Andrew Veal in 2001, and his wife carried on alone to complete the crossing.
As a solo rower, I would never have taken that option – I don’t know what the standard policy is now, but back when I did the Atlantic, the usual procedure when a boat was abandoned was to burn the boat. I suspect it would have been a lot harder to burn my carbon fibre boat than the old marine plywood boats, but I wasn’t going to take that chance – I had invested most of my life’s savings in that boat so I wasn’t about to see it go up in flames.
Or, if you’re not in a race with support yachts – and theoretically only if you believe you are in serious and imminent danger of dying – you can hit the red button on your EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon) which notifies the global maritime authorities that you require rescue, and they will divert the closest suitable ship to come and pick you up.
The closest ship could be some considerable distance away, giving you plenty of time to change your mind. And you really do have to be quite desperate to take this option – fortunately I’ve never had to do this, but from what I hear the process of getting from a tiny rowboat into a huge, sheer-sided ship can be pretty hair-raising.
So, given that quitting is so hard, you may as well keep on going.
In most other ventures in life, quitting is easier. Sometimes we even build in get-out clauses from the outset, allowing us to quit without dishonour if the going gets tough. And, of course, sometimes it makes sense to quit – blind stubbornness can be as bad a strategy as wimping out too soon. Knowing how to strike the balance between the two extremes is an important life skill.
But if completing something is really, really important to you, you might want to think about ways you can cut off your escape routes, to wholeheartedly commit to making this thing happen.
Tell everybody you’re going to run that marathon. Get an accountability buddy to check you’ve been sticking to your diet. Set up a calendar on which you mark every day that you do your meditation. Do whatever it takes to make it really, really hard to quit.
“Before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way. It does this not because it is evil, but so that we can, in addition to realizing our dreams, master the lessons we’ve learned as we’ve moved toward that dream. That’s the point at which most people give up. It’s the point at which, as we say in the language of the desert, one ‘dies of thirst just when the palm trees have appeared on the horizon.” — Paulo Coelho
“Never, never, never give up.” — Winston Churchill
Other Stuff:
Huge thanks to all the hundreds of folks who took the time to fill out my survey on COURAGE for my upcoming book. I’ve had some fabulous feedback and will be going through every single response to explore your thoughts on courage. If you haven’t taken the survey yet, and would like to, now is your last chance! It’s here.
My lovely ocean rowers, Cindy and James, are hoping to set out on Sunday from Cape Cod to row to Ireland – weather permitting. Follow their progress here.
Very much enjoyed reconnecting with the Yale World Fellows community in London last night. Thanks to Prof Jim Levinsohn et al for the hospitality!
The Books | The Green Ember