At Sea

Day 70 – My wife

Last but by no means least, the final cog that has kept this journey moving and the person who brings the sparkle and glitter that makes us all smile, I am of course talking about Miss Natalia Cohen. Natalia to us is mainly known as Nat, Nats, Natty, in addition for me, she’s my wife, my pickle but one thing she is not, and that is NataliE (take note!).

As with all the girls, i’ll start from the beginning with Nats as it sets the scene of what’s to come and the impact she has had. Nat had applied at the same time as Izz, Lizanne and Megs after seeing the article on Escape The City.com. Alongside her application Nats had come highly recommended from a good friend Dave Cornthwaite. Dave is a well esteemed adventurer and has completed a number of expeditions so is well established in what works well or not so well in a team dynamic, so to have his recommendation went a long way. Nat had been part of a sailing crew with Dave, travelling from the west coast of America to Hawaii, so also an added bonus that she had experience of the Pacific seas. On meeting Nat for the first time at Bisham I remember my judgemental first impressions, wearing a sparkled jewel next to her eye and over hearing some of her conversations, I remember thinking that she was a very ‘earthy’ and spiritual person which at the time I would have said was very different to me! However throughout the day she exceeded my judgements; with Alex he reported how she’d rallied everyone together to shout words of encouragement and support when she wasn’t being tested, when she was being tested herself, she zoned in and focussed, digging deep and drawing on her own stubbornness to get the best result possible. When Nat was with Ems she had been comfortable to be open and honest about what makes her tick and really listened to others. When with me we immediately had a very open conversation and I recall Nats saying afterwards that she had felt a connection between us, obviously an insight she had greater than I about how our relationship would blossom. It went without saying that on that day Nat would be selected to be tested on the Brecons.

On the Brecons Nat dug deep when she struggled with her feet and knees through the 36km slog in the wet and cold (conditions which are her worst nightmare!). Regardless though she always tackled everything with a smile and a sense of humour. Nat wasn’t worried about hanging out at the back of the group, with anyone else that was struggling she would offer encouragement and moral support and without realising it she brought a lightness and cheer to the group. It is this trait that is one of many skills that Nat has, she brings out the best in anyone and taps into the inner child we all have. At the end of the Brecons it was clear that her personality shone and there was no question that she had to be part of the team.

Since being on the boat I have learnt of Nats life story and it is one that epitomises living life to the full. She has never let an opportunity go nor lived with any regrets, she treasures her family and will give her heart and soul to the people she cares about. In every era of her life it has been about the amazing people that she has met and for Nats, meeting new people and learning about their lives, is what brings her joy.

On the boat Nats’ energy and positivity hasn’t faltered. For me personally she has brought out my kid side, she has made me laugh until I cry on nearly every rotation, she doesn’t judge and is someone who makes you feel comfortable and confident in your own skin.

As you’re well aware, Nat and I have had a handful of disagreements if that, which are often related to my Cracknell moments or as strong minded individuals, at times when we both believe we are right in our opinions. Although the 3 spats we’ve had have been rather spectacular as we’re both quite fiery people, we have such a mutual respect that we don’t allow it to linger. We express things openly and honestly, ensure we’ve resolved it, finish on a hug and move on, with a tendency to start laughing about it a day or two later. Our relationship I can only imagine can be likened to a marriage and i have been known to share that if Nat was a man then I’d want to marry her! She has been my confidant, my wingman and has helped me to develop in more ways than one, giving me advice when I’ve needed it or teaching me to stay in the moment when I drift off into projecting and planning my life. Without any question, I can safely say that this row would not have been the same by far without Nats in it. She has taught us to stay in the moment, to savour the experiences and to draw on humour when you least expect it.I can’t imagine ever having rowed this ocean without her and I can’t imagine now never having her in my life as a true friend.

I’ve given a short summary of each of the girls in this team, but I know I’m not great at expressing in words the true emotion that I feel. To Nats, Ems, Izz, Lizanne and Meg, thank you for making this row a reality, thank you for making this the most memorable journey and experience of my life.

Update:
On a beautiful, tranquil sunrise this morning, having finished narrating the film Notebook to Megs on the oars, I was suddenly nearly thrown off my seat by what felt like a punch to the side of the head. Slightly dazed, Megs thought I’d hit myself with my oar, but alas, the pungent smell of fish, the scales left on one side of my face and the fat flying fish the size of a small bird, laid out cold on the deck, was all evidence to show that I had received the best hit to the face of this whole row. Normally the fish flounder on the deck for a good couple of minutes, but I think my head was like hitting a concrete wall for this little one.

Otherwise great news that our batteries are charging up nicely thanks to our Solbian solar panels and the help from Victron. We are remaining careful with our usage though so that we ensure all essential equipment can be used and charged effectively on the boat all the way to Cairns. So still some handpumping of the manual water maker until the final couple of days. To think, this time next week we will hopefully be with our families, have showered, slept in a clean bed, be wearing clean clothes and have eaten a feast of food! So excited!

Day 69 – 3rd leg Meg

From April 19th 2015 my role within the Coxless Crew physically began. Having met Nats and Ems twice, Izz once and Laura a handful of times, I had become third leg Meg, and had committed to undertaking the challenge of rowing the third leg of the journey from Samoa to Cairns as a part of a team I barely knew. The leg where the girls would be the most tired, the leg where they would have been at sea the longest and the leg that took these girls to the finish line. It was daunting, and as they rowed out of San Fran, I felt physically sick, sitting at work on my laptop, and watching the pink dot begin to move, knowing that when I next saw them, it would be my turn to row out of a marina with them.

On land, I ran the info@coxlesscrew.com email answering questions that people asked, from ‘what oars are you using’ to hearing stories of people who had been affected by breast cancer. To say the least, I felt overwhelmed. I hadn’t even seen Doris’s oars, let alone know what they were made of! As leg one progressed, and the girls on the ocean faced the waves and the hardships that ocean life had to offer, myself and Lizanne faced training for a challenge I’m not sure either of us knew the extent of what was fully involved – through sports psych with Keith we tried to prepare our heads for the ocean, yet the realisation of what we had signed up for could only be fully appreciated when we saw land disappear out of sight and we were on the ocean.

I managed to Skype the girls in each of the stop offs. With words escaping me of all of the questions I had prepared to ask, I was constantly worried that they might not think I would be a good member of the team, and instead general chitchat and laughter unrelated to what the ocean would hold for me occurred. The girls encouraged me to ask them questions, but I had thousands! Wary of asking the same questions as everyone else, I laughed to myself as there were no words that could sum up the emotions I felt. Excited, scared and completely in awe of these women. How could I be a part of this team?! I very much worked on the mindset that I would take everything in my stride. Learning about the ins and outs of Doris, and rowing a part of the Pacific Ocean would be a process – for now I needed patience and to focus on training my mind and my body.

Upon Lizanne’s departure onto Doris, and Izz’s arrival onto land; seeing Lizanne enter the world of the ocean, and hearing from Izz that it was ‘awesome’, I felt closer to a member of the team who had spent weeks at sea with LP, Nats and Ems. This gave me a huge insight into what life was like on Doris. Yet in all honesty you have to see it to believe it!

Integrating into a team, that has just spent 6 months together at sea on a 29 foot rowing boat is a daunting task! It wasn’t one that could fail, as I would be getting on a boat with three of them within the next 10 days. In my mind I so wanted to jump up and down, organise a party and dance the funky chicken in excitement for the girls arrival into Samoa. Yet Keith had advised me to stay calm and go easy for the first few days as the girls were going to be tired and might want space. I felt a member of the team because of the work that I had done on land, but upon seeing the girls row into the marina, I couldn’t have even began to visualise that I would ever feel the way Lizanne looked with the girls on Doris, a fully fledged member of the team. Yet here I am, day 69 feeling as if I have been here for a lifetime. It has been a learning journey, and the girls couldn’t have made me feel more at home. They have shared in my emotions from being scared at big waves, to moaning at my sore bottom despite the fact that these are feelings that they first experienced many moons ago. I feel extremely lucky in this leg to have felt a small bit of what each of the legs have had to offer, different hardships to different joys. All I know, is that when I look up at the roof of the aft cabin and see the Coxless crew logo, it takes me back to my original application for the row. I didn’t for one second ever think that I would be in this cabin right now, writing this blog, and rowing a part of the Pacific on Doris! My love for each of these girls cannot be described in words and the idea of reaching land is a fifty fifty split of excitement versus not wanting this bubble to pop.

Update: what an evening we had! On our sunset shift, me and LP saw a family of what we thought were reef sharks coming up to the stern of the boat. At the same time in the sky on one side of Doris there were upto thirty boobies dive bombing into the water, different sizes and colours, all fishing for a feast, and twelve frigates above us also searching for their supper! In addition we have also seen a sea snake in the water. Let’s hope the abundance of wildlife continues into the Great Barrier Reef.

Oh, and by the way, we have just hit 199 miles! Cairns we’re a coming!

Just as a heavy downpour of rain can clear the air, a sharing of feelings and opportunity to be completely honest with someone can be a huge weight off your shoulders. I’ve been dealing with some of my own frustrations over the last few days.

As well as all the obvious challenges an expedition of this nature presents, the one that I’ve been thinking about recently involves the fact that LP, Ems and I have lived the same 24 hour day, every day for the last 9 months. The fact that we’ve been in a confined space, sleep deprived, dealing with our own personal mental and physical challenges, in an extreme environment with no privacy and no escape sounds like most people’s idea of hell, yet, on the whole, what has amazed me completely, is that we’ve actually dealt with life out here on the almighty Pacific in a wonderfully supportive, compassionate and humour filled way.

We constantly get asked how we do it and ‘honestly’ how do we really get on? Do we drive each other crazy? How can four women together not want to kill each other?

I think everything worked out perfectly for this row. The fact that we had three of us rowing the entire route and then three different team members joining us for each leg of our journey was vital to the success of project. For the purposes of this blog, I am going to be talking more about the relationship between the three of us that set off from San Francisco in April 2015 and will be rowing Doris into Australia in what we hope to be January 2016. I have affectionately nicknamed us the Three Musketeers and I don’t think some married couples know each other as intimately and completely as we do!

The Three Musketeers have had an impressively strong and healthy relationship during their time at sea. That’s not to say that at times there hasn’t been miscommunication, misunderstandings and simple difference of opinions (some of you may well remember the instant noodle incident!) We are human after all and although I have nothing but respect and admiration for these incredible women, we needed some variation. The injection of the other musketeers along the way to help us fight the challenges that Oceania has thrown at us have been invaluable. Izz, Lizanne and Meg have all brought their own unique magic to the boat and the team and the change in team dynamic that has come with each of them has been indispensable to the sanity of the Three Musketeers.

As we slowly make our way across the Great Barrier Reef towards our destination, I think we underestimate how different everyone’s headspace can be regarding the same event. Although everyone is itching to get to land, I am still savouring the simplicity of life and the connection to the ocean. I am determined to end this adventure as I have endured it, with a positive and mindful attitude and embracing every moment fully wherever possible.

My frustrations of late were sparked by the need to express some emotions I was having and speak out openly and honestly as on a personal level I don’t want to end this journey with any negativity or anything left unsaid. Every cloud has a silver lining, and so as we continue to have to pump water during our rest shifts, a perfect opportunity arose for me to air these feelings directly with both Ems and LP as the three of us were out on deck at the same time.

Ems was frustrated by our progress and her inability to single handedly control Doris on our sunrise shift. I could sense her despair and upset and could see her angrily yanking the steering and aggressively plunging her oars into the water. I reminded her of the fact that we can only control the controllable and that hopefully next shift things will have changed. I then suggested that she releases her frustrations by writing them down and therefore letting them go and not giving them any power (which resulted in her blog). Amazingly, that afternoon, we received an email from Keith suggesting the same.

My main frustration with Ems lay in the fact that I didn’t really know what I could do to best help her. If she wanted me to distract her, help bring her back to the moment or just leave her for a while to rant at the ocean. During our heart to heart on the deck under a relentless sun, I asked that if the same situation happens again in the future she will tell me what the best or most appropriate course of action for that moment would be, so that I don’t feel so helpless and can possibly help shift her thoughts from negative ones to positive ones.

The issue I wanted to raise with LP was different. We have always had a special connection. We are like family and with that closeness comes the ability to push each other’s buttons easily. I felt that over the last few days we had become incredibly reactive to each other. Whether it was something she said to me or I said to her, both of us would instantly react and it was upsetting me. The thing was, that I couldn’t really put my finger on why it was happening, but all I knew was that I didn’t want it to continue into our final days and we needed to make an effort to make it stop.

After an hour of sharing emotions, thoughts, opinions and facts, we all had a hug and……I’m now ready to enjoy the ride into land (however long it takes) with all 5 of my warrior women and amazing team mates happily and firmly in my heart x

*———— ‘One for all and all for one’ ————*

It is 6.30am and I am dragged from a too deep sleep by the rowers outside waking us up for our first row shift of the new day. It is already hot and stuffy in the cabin and I can’t wake up enough to speak to Nats who is in there with me while I pull on my smelly, salty rowing kit and drag myself out on to the oars. I am steering. LP hands over to me telling me that we are still in a strong southerly current and that constant steering is required to zig zag towards our destination. Nats and I start rowing at 70%. It is time to start pushing ourselves in every session as we need to reach land before we run out of food or hit any bad weather. Holding a good course is especially important at the moment as we approach a narrow gap between reefs. After half an hour we are still not able to get our speed above 1kt and I am getting increasingly frustrated with this and the steering which is swinging around by up to 100 degrees in a few strokes. I want to get to Australia. Our parents are there waiting for us and we have been out here far longer than we ever expected. We row hard, at 90%, for two lots of 15mins, legs burning, the water feeling like concrete. It makes at most 0.2kts difference to our speed. This feels like so little that it is hardly even worth the effort but it is at this point where we need every little bit of speed or extra mile so we do the second 15mins.

The end of the two hour shift approaches. Usually this would mean retiring to the cabin for two hours, getting some well earned food and then having a stretch out and rest. However today I need to stay out on deck in the sunshine which is already burning despite it only being 8.30am and make water for an hour using our hand pump. Our batteries are slowly charging up but we still don’t have enough power to run our electric water maker and there is no way of knowing how much longer we will need to be hand pumping. I get off the rowing seat and into the water making seat, drop the tubes over board and start pumping. My arms and shoulders are burning and I have to change arms every few minutes. After a while I get into a rhythm and it becomes almost therapeutic and the bonus is that I get to spend time with LP and Megs who I am not on shift with. We manage to have a giggle and the hour passes.

It is time to swap places with Nats who comes out to make water while I head inside for some food. By the time I have made food and eaten half my rest hour has disappeared and I still have to write a blog. I have barely started when it is time to don the sweaty kit and return to the oars. This time we manage to hold a speed just over one knots for most of the session. This is a relief but at this point in the journey with following winds and a south westerly current we should be travelling much faster at around two knots. None of us can understand why despite the fact that we are working so hard we are still crawling along. However a good opportunity arises for Nat, LP and I to be together on deck while LP makes water and share our frustrations and reflections on our 9 month journey and how to make our last week or so a positive experience.

Again instead of heading to the cabin at the end of the row shift I am back on the water maker. The midday sun is draining me of any remaining energy and I am feeling jaded to say the least. I pump continuously and a tiny trickle of water emerges from M-ROD. By the end of the hour I have only just filled a single water container. However the song game passes the time and provides entertainment and we are all glad that nobody can hear us sing out here.
Another short hour of rest races by, sweating and trying to finish my blog while eating a chicken korma. Then it is back to the oars for another shift where the ocean feels like treacle and I wish I couldn’t see the deck repeater which shows our speed and direction. At the end of the shift we have moved less than two miles closer to Cairns and I am feeling dispirited. Making water with the hand pump is slow so we don’t have enough water for a proper wash. A quick rinse of the bits and pits and wipe off of the worst of the salt before heading to the cabin for our first sleep shift.

The cabins are unbearably hot after a hot day and the sun is still pouring in. Nat and I split up so that we have a bit more space to sweat in and I head to the forecabin. I lie on my towel and try to employ mindfulness to relax but I know that I will never sleep in this heat. I try to lie as still as possible and rest my muscles. Eventually I start to drift off and almost immediately LP is opening the hatch and calling me. It is time to row. Again.
The salt sores on my bum hurt and I can’t find a comfortable way to sit and the salt in my clothes is making me itchy. However the sun is setting and it is my favourite time of day on Doris. The temperature cools to a comfortable warmth and the light is beautiful. The sun sets in a glow of orange behind us and the sky in front of us glows pink with grey clouds. The beauty still takes my breath away and all of a sudden I’m not in such a rush to get to land. Even our speed seems to have picked up a little.

The second sleep shift is much cooler and I am quickly snoozing happily. It feels like only seconds before it is time to drag myself awake again but it is cool and not splashy so I don’t even have to put on my crusty jacket. Our speed has slowed to less than 1 knot again. The current is stronger or we are more tired and we have to push hard through the pitch black night. The wind has picked up making it hard to hear my rowing partner so there is minimal conversation as a distraction so we eat ginger nuts to cheer ourselves up.

Third sleep shift next and it feels like I haven’t even closed my eyes before Nat is nudging me to get moving and get dressed. The final night shift is always the worst, I am sleepy and time seems to drag. We fall asleep for the final time and when we wake the sun has risen and a new day has begun.

It’s been 9 months and ocean rowing hasn’t become any easier. I will never take fresh water or sleep for granted again but I have learnt a lot about myself and how not to let the frustration take over. I couldn’t imagine doing this on my own and it is the strength and support of our team and the sharing of our frustrations and tears which has got us all through this. Despite the tough times I feel sure that it is not the frustration but the magical moments on the Pacific with these special girls which I will carry with me forever.

Day 66 – Don’t count your chickens

You’d think that with just 300nm to go and with the end in sight, that the home straight would go quickly and calmly. Well, we should know by now that for us this would never be the case. It was only recently that Keith had emailed informing us of how most accidents happen with close proximity of home, so a message to stay vigilant and ‘on it’ all the way until we step on dryland.

If anyone reading this was following us in leg 1, you will be aware of a problem we had when water was found to have got in to our battery and charging electronics locker during a storm. The ingress of saltwater caused corrosion which consequently led to the charge controllers overheating and failing, which in essence meant no recharge facilities for our batteries. This resulted in an 800nm detour to Santa Barbara in order to fix the problems, before we left again for Hawaii. Thanks to Victron (our battery sponsors) and Tony (our support manager), Doris was well fixed and preened before setting off for Hawaii and again for Samoa.

Typically, Nat had only mentioned this week how she felt that maybe this leg would finish the same way it started, her thought was in reference to how this leg had started from Samoa; good speed with prevailing winds, of course I had interpreted it to mean how the whole journey had started and subsequently told her not to jinx it! Well too late! She was partly right, as signs showed that the last week may reflect the first week fiasco we had after leaving San Fran. A few days ago, I noticed one of the batteries was showing to be at a much lower voltage than it should have been and on investigation I discovered an error light on one of our battery system monitors. On testing the batteries with a volt meter I established one of the batteries was in a poor state of charge so I started liaising back and forth between Tony and Victron to establish what I need to do on the boat to test what needed to be tested. Unfortunately the conclusion to all the tests was the batteries were very low on power which left me with no option but to switch everything off apart from the chart plotter (shows our navigational charts, Position etc.) AIS (to indicate other boats in the area and inform them of us) and Echomax (a radar reflector for large cargo ships to pick us up on radar) all three for safety. On checking an hour later, the batteries were depleted still further, therefore I made a decision to switch everything off and resort to back up navigation, i.e. handheld GPS and magnetic compass with the view to only switch on the nav light and AIS if we spotted a boat in the distance. Unfortunately the battery terminals in the handheld GPS had corroded and it didn’t work (last tested in Samoa), but luckily we have the Navionic chart app on our phones, so we’ve used that for the last couple of days for keeping track of our course and location. We’ve also had to resort to using the manual hand-pump water maker aka M Rod – a mechanical reverse osmosis desalinator, as without electronics we can’t make water through the electronic Schenker desalinator. MRod involves sitting out on deck and Hand pumping. There’s a long tube in the sea water which the water is sucked up and then as you pump it is drawn back and forth through a filter. To put it in perspective, our normal water maker makes 30l of water Per hour, on the manual pump, we make just 3litres per hour. It has been knackering! Having to finish a 2hr row session, then sitting out on deck in the sweltering heat under the blistering sun for another hour, then swapping with your team mate, then returning to row positions for another 2hrs of rowing. I must say it’s been joyous for the last 2 days! If our shoulders and arms hadn’t had enough of rowing for 9 months well the manual water maker has certainly topped it off.

Thankfully the sun is shining and the batteries are coming back to life, so hopefully it won’t be much longer until we can get our electronic water maker back on!

Update:
Day 65 meant we got to watch a couple of videos that Izz had put together for us and amongst it was a huge surprise to see one from my hero, Chrissie Wellington. I can’t thank her enough to see her smiling face and words of encouragement from someone who has achieved so much, was a real motivation. Perfect timing! Also a highlight for today….. We were interviewed by CNN! Sarah Moshman did a great interview with them yesterday and they followed it up with a sat phone call to us all today. We all got to chat and share our story of why we’re here, what it’s like and what we’re looking forward to when we reach Cairns. They’re also hoping to speak to us again when we reach land, how exciting!

Day 65 – The Freaky Wave

We’re aware that many of our followers aren’t on Twitter and so we want to share with you some of the awesome cartoons that The Freaky Wave have been doing EVERY DAY since about half way through the second leg! Here are a couple of our favourites. You can see them all on twitter (@thefreakywave) or more on their website: www.thefreakywave.com

Thanks for the support! =)

Update: last night LP and Megs were on the oars under a blanket of incredible stars when suddenly at 10:15am UTC a massive shining green light that travelled like a shooting star for a good few seconds zoomed across the sky! It left us completely mesmerised. We are thinking that it could possibly have been a meteorite and flew at approximately 120 degrees south east in the sky. If anyone has any ideas what this could have been we would love to hear them! In other news, we are still rowing.

Day 64 – ‘Nearly’

Nearly, nearly, nearly. It’s a word that we have heard throughout this leg of the journey. From the moment we left Samoa, embarking on the 3rd leg of this adventure and we were ‘nearly’ there.

According to the kindle dictionary that we have on Doris, the word nearly is defined as ‘very close to; almost’. So I suppose in terms of the rest of the journey, leaving Samoa and from every day since then we have been nearer to Cairns than the day before. But now, when looking at our chart plotter, and being able to see Cairns on the same page as Doris, can quite easily fool the mind into thinking that we are close to arriving. Don’t get me wrong, in the scheme of things we are so close to Cairns, but it is the word ‘nearly’ that has got me thinking recently. I managed to speak to my sister, my boyfriend, and my best friend yesterday on the phone as for our 400 mile reward we gave ourselves 30 minutes of extra phone calls. At some point in the phone call each person said ‘you are so nearly there’ as words of encouragement. This word is clearly hugely subjective, and doesn’t have an objective measure other than that of comparisons. To explain, if we had embarked on a 500 mile journey, then the 350 mile mark would not be classed as ‘nearly there’ yet, as Ems said, we are over 94 percent of the way to Cairns, so of course we are ‘nearly there’. But how near is ‘nearly’? On Doris we all have different points when we feel that we will be able to say ‘nearly’. For Ems it’s that moment when we can see land, for Nat it’s when we row into the marina, whereas for LP it’s 50 miles and for me it’s the moment we can see Tony and Sarah Moshman in a boat that will escort us over the Great Barrier Reef.

So as the four of us row harder than we have rowed so far on this leg, we try and remain focused and take the word ‘nearly’ with a pinch of salt until we reach our own personal ‘nearly’. We still have at least another 7 days on Doris, equating to a minimum of another 84 hours on the oars. So to put it into perspective, with 350 miles still to cover, we have the equivalent of approximately 18 English channels to cross! On the oars last night I was discussing with LP the mantras and motivational words that we will be saying to ourselves over the next week, and power songs that we already have prepared in our performance enhancing strategies that Keith our sports psych made us prepare for the journey. Words such as focus, strong, dig deep, and keeping at the forefront of our minds ‘will it make the boat go faster?‘ as a question to decisions that we make, are all examples of ways that we will focus.

Our parents are all on their way to, or are in Australia already, with Nats and Ems’s already there, mine on a plane currently, and LP’s due to leave on Wednesday. It was only this week that I received an email from my mum saying that she now understood how much of a limbo I was in before I arrived in Samoa. Like the rest of the parents, having spent the past month tracking Doris and attempting to guess when they will be needed in Cairns, and then having rebooked their flights twice, and still not knowing whether or not the flight that they are currently on will be the right one to have chosen, all they have said is that they WILL be there for our arrival. With the delay of the row, both myself and Lizanne’s departure dates for leg 2 and then leg 3 of the journey were also delayed by up to 2 months. As a result, our lives rolled with the waves watching the pink dot addictively until we received the call from Tony saying that our flights had been booked. For Hawaii, Lizanne departed when the girls got to 250 miles. For Samoa, due to the epic 97 days in the doldrums of leg two, and the unpredictability of the girls arrival, I didn’t depart UK until they got to 100 miles!

I think that we would all agree that the support that we have constantly received from our parents throughout, has been one of the things that has got each person through, and I’m not sure that we will ever be able to thank them enough. It’s one thing a member of the team having to roll with the waves, waiting their turn to row, but it’s another, putting our parents through the same process as they all wait together, rolling over the rest of the coral sea and then the barrier reef with us waiting; waiting for our arrival. Here’s to hoping we don’t keep everybody waiting too long.

Update: Today I ate porridge for supper! Porridge! As our savoury options begin to lessen, and the sugar diet commences we are trudging along waiting for more direct Easterly winds and less current to carry us to Cairns one stroke at a time. Oceania are you hearing us bebbey, push us please!

Day 63 – Emotions

As we inch slowly, stroke by stroke towards our goal, it’s only natural that we will all now begin to reflect on our journey and our emotions will run high.

As different as each of us is in personality, the way we deal with our emotions is equally as variable. Some of us wear our heart on our sleeves and no emotion can be hidden where others have spent years building an emotional wall and find it difficult to openly express how they are feeling. In whatever form an emotion gets expressed on the boat, however, there is no hiding it.

The first thing we do when we enter the world is cry. This simple act symbolises the first breath of life and good health for the baby which in turn provokes happiness and relief for the mother. For something that in its simplest form is such a positive emotion, it is interesting that as time goes on and we get older this gesture can develop negative connotations synonymous with weakness and vulnerability.

Quite frankly I think that there is nothing better than a good cry. It’s a great form of release and once the tears have fallen, you are more clear headed and focussed. There’s no denying that it’s cathartic. I would say that when starting this challenge, I was definitely the most emotionally open of the team. I’ve always been happy to use crying as a tool for dealing with stress, frustration and happiness, so generally speaking, tears fall easily and often for me. When I found myself surrounded by 5 fairly emotionally guarded women, I decided to make it a personal mission to get them all to embrace their feelings on the boat and share them.

I basically wanted to make them all cry!

As we enter the final stage of our odyssey, I like to think that I have been successful in not only creating a safe and accepting environment for all of us to allow our emotions to arise freely and be expressed, but also for that shared emotional experience to be one that has strengthened and united the team.

Onboard Doris there has been many a tear shed. Tears of laughter, joy, happiness, frustration, exhaustion, pain, sadness and nostalgia. We’ve cried alone in the back rowing position with no one witnessing except the ocean and we’ve shared tears of empathy and compassion in pairs and in a group.

It always amazes me what random things can cause people to cry and that there are many people who actually find it very difficult to cry. Out of the 6 of us, all of us have cried tears of laughter during our adventure and all of us have cried over something very random. Sleep deprivation may have a little something to with it.
Ems – when she couldn’t single handedly control the 1 tonne Doris
LP – when her favourite pink bikini top went overboard in a Doris tragedy
Nats – when I realised that Eduardo the shark was not coming back to see us
Meg – when her iPod broke ;(
LV – when she realised that she couldn’t just get up and go for a walk
Izz – when reading her blog about LP, Ems and I (she welled up more than cried)

I would say the person who I still need to do some work on is Izz, as although she has definitely opened up more emotionally during the row, is still yet to show me a satisfactory cry!

Emotions fascinate me. The way they arise so suddenly in your body as a subtle sensation and then grow and manifest before revealing themselves properly to you and others. Learning how to recognise them before they develop and then with a balanced mind, deciding how to deal with them. If only it was that easy!

In a way, everything that happens in life, and indeed out here on the almighty Pacific, triggers one emotion or another. These mix of emotions are what makes all experiences worthwhile, memorable and real.

We’ve all been through a plethora of emotions on this boat that’s for sure…but none of them will come close to the overwhelming feeling we are sure to experience as we step off Doris for the final time in Australia. I have no doubt many tears will fall x

UPDATE:
As you know we still have an ambitious target of 100k followers that we would like to reach. One stroke at a time, I know, but if we could get our Facebook followers up to 10k by the time we get to Oz, I think that may even make Izz cry tears of joy!!
Spread the word far and wide everyone as it’s not long now. We need your help! x

Today’s blog comes from the one and only Tony Humphreys.

My involvement with ocean rowing dates back to 2001 when I was working as the Ops Manager for The Challenge Business, a company established by Sir Chay Blyth. Sir Chay, having rowed the Atlantic in 1966, had the crazy/genius idea to create a one-design rowing race across the Atlantic, which undoubtedly was responsible for the proliferation of ocean rowing as we know it today. Although I’ve never rowed an ocean (sailing oceans is where I’m at….), I have through my involvement with ocean rowing races and supporting independent ocean rows been involved with 138 ocean rows (not all of which were successful) across the Atlantic, Pacific and Indian oceans.

Four years ago to the day I received an enquiry to assist an all female team of six to row the Indian Ocean. A month later the plan had evolved into rowing the Pacific in three legs as a team of four women and over the following three years, despite several setbacks and changes within the team, the Coxless Crew became established and rowing the Pacific looked set to become a reality.

Not much further now, but potentially some of the hardest rowing lies ahead in order to navigate between the many off lying reefs and islets before crossing the Great Barrier Reef. At the moment the weather looks to remain favourable for the foreseeable, so fingers crossed we are looking at an arrival window sometime between the 18th and 22nd January, with the usual caveat that ocean rowing boats rarely exceed expectations and usually only ever arrive later than estimated.

Tony – aka Uncle Tone/Charlie

UPDATE:
For those that don’t know, we are committed to continue raising money for our charities, hold fundraising events and do presentations for a few months after our arrival back in the UK. This means that there is a good possibility that all 6 of us will continue blogging daily once we leave our Pacific home and continue to share some land insights, challenges and stories with you all even after our arrival in Cairns.
400 miles to go! x