Notes Before The Edge

September 4, 1999

Louisville, Kentucky, USA

One year ago, the Saturday of Labor Day weekend was probably the worst day
of my life.  I tangled with what was left of hurricane Danielle.  After the
fifth capsize of the day I crawled across the deck intending to set off my
emergency distress beacon.  On deck amid the fury of that storm I realized
that I could not ask another human being to come out into that storm to
rescue me.  I went through six more capsizes that day with the distress
beacon in my left hand and not triggering it with my right hand.  I waited
until Monday, Labor Day, 36 hours AFTER the passage of the storm to signal
for help.

On September 7th the container ship "Independent Spirit" on route between
Antwerp and Philadelphia altered course to pick me up.  It was a bright
sunny day wedged between two violent storm systems: the hurricane and the
force-ten gale that followed it. 

A week later, when the Independent Spirit dropped me off in Philadelphia,
the world's greatest ocean rower, Gerard d'Aboville, had traveled from his
home in France to meet me. 

Of all the men and women on the planet Gerard understood better than anyone
what I'd been through.  A few days before he completed his solo crossing of
the Pacific Ocean Gerard weathered a typhoon.  At dinner in Philadelphia he
read the following passage from his book Alone.

 "They say that with the passage of time the worst memories have a way of
turning into positive memories.  I know that these will never change; they
were, and will always remain, terrible and terrifying.

I'll never forget the many times the boat capsized, especially when it
turned a complete somersault, throwing me against the bulkhead.  Then, with
my frayed nerves stretched to the breaking point, I kept waiting for the
final blow, the blow that would end it all, and let out a primal scream,
like some wild beast.

Nor will I ever forget those other times when I battled for my life,
feeling my strength waning minute by minute.  And the taste of salt water
in my mouth.   In my lungs, the taste of death.

And, all that alone, alone, alone."

As Gerard read this passage to me that evening, tears or recognition filled
my eyes and ran down my face.

So you might reasonably ask.why go again.why step off once more into the
dark unknown?

The answer is complex.  A few months after I'd been home I was invited to
speak to a large group of teenage girls.  They gave me t-shirt it has
become one of my favorites.  It reads "Failure is Impossible."

In every life there are storms.  Storms that twist our existence and slam
us against bulkheads.

In every life there are choices.  We may choose to stay down or we may
choose to rise again.
 
In my case the choice has not been a difficult one.  You see I am not
alone, each of you comes with me.

It may be a uniquely American philisophy, but I think Gerard d'Aboville
would understand my use of the phrase E Pluribus Unum -- One out of many.

Americans have never been averse to stepping off into the unknown. 

Three hundred and seventy nine years ago today.     -- One hundred Pilgrims
left the comfort of home to set sail for Virginia to establish a permanent
colony in North America.  They landed in New England in November.  They had
no weather tight cabin, no isobutane stove, and their freeze-dried food was
not sealed in zip lock bags.

Following in their footsteps came.Lewis and Clark, Daniel Boone, Andrew
Jackson, Theodore Roosevelt, Robert Kennedy, Robert Byrd, Robert Perry, Jim
Whittaker not to mention Charles Lindberg and Amelia Erheart. 

This time as I return to the Atlantic, I know that I am not alone.   E
PLURIBUS UNUM -- one out of many.  All of you go with me.