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November 5
These seas remain a bit high for comfortable rowing. I would guess they
are 8-12 feet. Twelve feet may not seem very high, and it isn't really,
but the waves are steep and the boat does a penguin waddle through the swells.
I made the very pleasant discovery that the spare video camera that I had
stored in a bulky Rubbermaid container, inside a dry-bag, fits perfectly
into one of my Otter Boxes. Otter Boxes are the best new item on board. Had I
known about Otter Boxes on my last journey, I might not have lost
communications eight days from shore. They are rugged watertight
containers. The standard in this type of container is the "Pelican Case."
I used several Pelican Cases on my last trip. Pelican cases are great if
you plan to let a herd of hippopotami play water polo with your gear.
For my purposes they are far too heavy, and with sore hands from rowing,
the latches on a Pelican Case can be immensely difficult to pry open. Otter
Boxes are much lighter, the latches are easier to manage, and they come in
smaller sizes, which are more fitting to my uses aboard.
Almost every item of delicate electronic equipment is stored in an Otter
Box. The Iridium Telephone and its charging cable fit perfectly into a
larger Otter Box. My little Epson Digital Camera fits snugly into a
smaller case. My video film is in an Otter Box, as is my still picture film.
The video camera fits in a case that I had spare batteries stored in. I
am delighted. This means I will be able to keep the camera on deck, close at
hand, without fear of it becoming wet if a wave splashes over a gunwale.
Before the Otter Box, I'd decided that grocery store Rubbermaid was as
good as it gets for lightweight watertight protection.
(The Zip-Lock bag on the other hand is not to be trusted with anything
that might come remotely close to water. Last year I had a digital camera
double bagged in Zip-Locks. Yes, I WAS careful to zip them all the way to
their ends. When water got into the electronics hold, all those Zip-Locks
did was keep the water IN the baggies.)
November 6
Rowing today is very frustrating. The wind has come from every point of
the compass and seems to change once or twice an hour. The swells are
from every quarter as well. I had an hour of head winds. I've become so
accustomed to wind from the stern that I'd almost forgotten how to row
into the wind. It rains on and off, but it is not unpleasant.
The subject of my discourse today is food bars (a.k.a. nutritional energy
bars, heath food bars, sawdust with vitamin powder added). Last night, I
became rather ill from eating a Cliff Bar that was past its prime. My
favorite food bar is Mountain Lift. I've conducted extensive taste tests
in this area. Mountain Lifts are hands down the best. I am one of those
people who worked hard to acquire a taste for Powerbars. I like
Powerbars. Next to Mountain Lift, Powerbars are my favorite. Then comes the Cliff
Bar. Cliff Bars are a distant third because they do not "swim" well. For
me an item "swims" if it can spend a month sloshing in salt water with no
ill effects. The packaging on Cliff Bars is not a durable as the
packaging on a Powerbar or a Mountain Lift Bar. After a week or two in saltwater,
many Cliff Bars begin to look like the fermentation experiments conducted
by Louis Pasteur. This does not make for healthy eating.
I have a half a dozen other varieties of food bars on board, but Mountain
Lift and Powerbar are the staples of my ready to eat food stores. The
wrappers on Powerbars are so tough that it can take several years of
practice to learn how to open one without the use of a chainsaw. Mountain
Lift bars are easier to access, but they seem to "swim" just as well.
November 7
The wind sings by the boat from every direction except due east. I have
been hollering directions at the wind all morning, but it is deaf to all
entreaties. Try as I might to avoid thinking ahead, the mental countdown
has begun. The last several days have not measured up to my ideal mileage.
It is not for the lack of rowing. I've been doing a little better than 12
hours a day at the oars and if you ask me I'd say I've been pulling harder
than was my custom earlier in the journey.
One of my favorite questions to ask people when I am on trips like this
is, "If you could have lunch with anyone, living or dead, anywhere in the world,
with whom would you have lunch and where?" I asked this question of
Joseph Murphy as we were skiing together across the polar plateau in the
Antarctic. He said, "I'd have lunch at home with my wife." I found the
answer tremendously endearing. When I consider my own answer to the
question, it moves closer and closer to Joe's response with each passing
year. I no longer wish to meet glorious historical figures in mythic
settings, but I want to see friends at home. This does not mean I'd turn
down lunch with Jefferson at Monticello, or lunch with Isaac Newton in his
study. It is merely that I am now better able to recognize the genius of
friends.
As ever,
Tori |
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