Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Day 105 – POST 2 : A LAST LETTER FROM SEA...

13 June, 07 – 21.15 GMT    
17.1646N,61.1885W


As I plot my progress on my Hydrographic / Topographic map of the North Atlantic Ocean, it's quite incredible to see the speed at which the numbers on the contours change 5645meters – 4680 – 3000 – 2000 and a sudden jump to 311 meters. I cannot see land as yet. My visibility to the horizon is limited to 5 miles as I am low off the water.
The Office of the Minister of Antigua has organized a welcome party and an official boat will shortly turn up to escort me into English Harbour....my row-eat-think lifestyle will soon be over.
Life on a rowing boat is like living on a bucking bronco. The boat gets chucked about in the waves far more easily than a sail boat, so the number of cuts, bruises and bumps is well above average.
Apart from the physical discomfort of being constantly wet and not being able to sit upright in the small cabin, living on a 7 meters space for so long has other challenges.
It takes constant organizing to keep things in their place and it's messed up just as soon as the boat rolls violently from side to side. Then there is the endless task of charging batteries, backing-up data, putting things in and out of waterproof bags and digging through various hatches before you can find something.
Every little thing takes twice as long to do and needs advanced planning. Eating and drinking anything is done thru straws and lids and packets to make sure nothing spills. Sitting straight requires you to take into account the direction from which the waves are hitting the boat. Any trip out on deck requires sealing the hatch and putting on the harness routine. Pulling things in and out of watertight cases. Removing the mattress and everything on it, each time you need to access the storage compartments below. The only upside of it all is that it makes time on board pass much faster
Take drinking coffee for instance. I mix the powder and cold water in a sports waterbottle that has a sip-lid on it to stop it from splashing in my eye when the boat rocks. Making it while rising and; falling, up and down at all sorts of angles is however is another story. I hold the open coffee bottle between my feet till I put the powder into the sports water bottle. Then hold the sports water bottle steady with my feet while I use my both hands to steady the 5 liter water bottle to add water to the coffee. Finally closing both open bottles of liquid quickly before they spill.
What gets you in the end though is not the large waves, constant wetness or salt sores or the routine. It's the small things that start to irritate. Like packaging for instance. Things that rust, spill or don't shut properly.
Technology is the worst offender. Chargers, inverters, cameras, laptop cables for cameras, laptops, cameras, card readers, hard disks satellite phone, voltage inverters all love to get entangled with each other. I just cleaned it up the day before and it's tangled again today. I'm the only one on board. Who is causing the mess?
But the advantage of such a small space is that if anything is not within arms reach, it will usually be within leg reach. Switches, radio, GPS, radar alarm, nav lights can all be operated with your toes. Even the ipod. However, it gets a little tricky if you're 6'3 like me. The head is too far from the toes to read the display properly.
I find that I've come off with a much greater appreciation for intelligent design and functionality. With boat design, not an inch of space on board is wasted and everything can be used for more than one purpose. I've used a single item, an all-in-one spoon, fork and knife for every meal for the past 3 months (see pic). I think I will continue using it at home.
Apart from the things I've missed, I've also realized the things I can do without. The Internet and Google for instance. (Yes. I said it.) Back then, when I first found the water at the bottom of the boat, I could swear, for a nanosecond I thought of searching for the leak on Google. I've been off line now for 3 months and I don't really miss it.
So, how am I doing physically?
Well, my dentist used to tell me that I was very brave. She used to say that on a scale of 1 to 10 for pain (1 being minimum and 10 being maximum), what is a 9 for most people is a 1 for me. So going by her scale, I would say the salt sores on my rear feel like 81 out of 10!
Apart from nothing major. A lot of bruises, bumps and cuts and my skin and hair look like 6 miles of bad road. All will be fixed by the first hot shower. I'm not a big fan of medicine anyway. A while back I was flipping thru my medical handbook. I came across the first illness and it looked like I had the symptoms for that. So I turned the page to the next one and found I had some of the symptoms for that too. So I turned to the next one and recognized more of the symptoms. By the time I got to the end of the book, I had all the illness except two of them. Quite worrying. Why didn't I have these two?
So, I'd rather not know. In fact, with all this rowing business, I've never been fitter or healthier and I can hold my breath for 1 whole minute more than Marlboro man.
How am I doing Mentally ?
Very exhausted. In fact, more than physically. It's been quite draining to maintain course, avoid tankers, cope with isolation and stay motivated. On one hand, I am quite sad to finish this journey but I am also looking forward to sleeping on a bed that I don't have to keep on course all the time.
It's been very motivating to receive messages of encouragement from everybody all along the trip. But now, all 1 billion of you can relax stop messaging me to go on. Not much of a choice left now :)
You will be amazed how many messages I have been getting from all around the world about one thing - the toilet!
Since it's my last post, I will finally break the suspense. Are you ready? Drum roll please...
IT'S A BUCKET.
(Trust me, it sounds much more posh in French “Je vais à la toilette dans un seau”. (pic on the right)).
Not very comfortable. But the view is unbeatable and the real fun is when the waves get over 15ft.
I will definitely have to update that CV of mine when I get back. (I wonder what you'll have been imagining all this time...)
It's finally time to wrap it up. It's been a privilege to experience total isolation, total exhaustion, and living alongside fear and beauty at the same time. Its' been am amazing row and the Atlantic has been gracious enough to let me complete it alive.
Anyway, I was going to end with of something motivational. Maybe something deep and thoughtful to say but I can only think of food right now.
So I will leave you with this instead.
A penguin that walks into a bar and says, "Has my father been in here?"
"I don't know," says the bartender. "What does he look like?"
A hug for the ladies, a handshake for the gents and a thanks to everybody for their support.
B
PS. Will post from land shortly. Please email your messages to mail@bhavik.com (my normal email account), so that I can reply. Please DO NOT message my satellite phone. I will have my regular mobile number posted on here shortly.
Email: mail@bhavik.com
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md-070613_4water2

Drinking everything thru straws

md-070613_6bucketchucket

Just bucket and chuck-et!

md-070613_6spoon

My spoon-fork-knife

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