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November 11
This was perhaps my worst day in this journey. It began well enough. The
wind was from the east-southeast and I made good progress until 1:00 PM
when I spoke with Christophe Hebert. I reported that all was well and
Christophe asked me when I thought I would arrive in Guadeloupe. I went
back to the oars. At 2:00 PM the wind shifted, it was now coming out of
the southeast. I could still make progress, but fighting not to lose
ground (water) to the north dramatically slowed my progress. I responded
by rowing harder. At 3:00 PM the wind became south-southeast. This was a
bad turn as more of my energy went into rowing against the wind than in
moving the boat forward. By 4:00 PM the wind was coming from due south.
At 5:00 it was south-southwest, with heavy seas coming from the east and
south.
Rowing as hard as I could, I was barely able to force the boat to maintain
its position in the water. As soon as I gave up on the oars the boat flew
toward the north at a rate of three miles an hour. I rowed until I was
completely exhausted, then I threw out my biggest sea anchor (papa bear)
and 250 of sea anchor rode. When I climbed into the cabin I was soaked
with rain and sweat. My mind was soaked with despair. For the first time
on this journey since the first week, the boat was traveling in the wrong
direction. More than that, there was not a thing I could do about it.
There was a press conference scheduled for 8:15 PM in Louisville. After answering questions from the hometown press for a half an hour, I went back to the oars. It
was an exercise in futility. I did worse rowing into the wind - in terms
of not losing miles - than I did sitting on my sea anchor.
I called a few friends to see if there might be a weather update from Dane.
Then, I passed a sleepless night. The sea anchor makes the ride very
rough and the boat falls off the waves when the anchor pulls it. Every
hour I checked the compass. 11:00 PM going north-northeast. I growled
with disapproval. 12:00 AM going north. Turning good. 1:00 AM going
north. Stopped turning, not good. 2:00 AM going north. Scream with
disappointment. 3:00 AM going north. Just a groan. 4:00 AM going
northeast. Turning, yes. 5:00 AM going east-northeast. Still, turning,
yes, yes! I rose at 6:00 AM because the wind seemed to be east-southeast.
I reeled in the sea anchor and took up the oars. The wind remained
east-southeast for a few hours. Then it went back to the southeast.
November 12
Today for every stroke I take toward land (to the west), I take two strokes
toward the south to avoid being blown off course. It is dismal. The sun
has come out which is about the only positive thing I have to report. It
has been overcast and raining for so long that my batteries were in serious
trouble and my water tank was nearing empty. Now, the tank is full and the
batteries are charging. I wish I could say the same for myself. I am very
tired. I've worked so hard over the course of the last two weeks to avoid
being pushed north, that for the first time I'm beginning to feel worn-out.
Usually at times like this, I become grumpy. I know I am tired because I'm
feeling less angry and more downhearted. I know that sometime in the next
month or so land will appear on the horizon. I want to have control over
when that will happen. But, the universe is in charge of this one and I am
a pale puny speck in the middle of the ocean. I can't fight the wind. I
don't have sails to tack my way into shore. I don't have an Evinrude
engine that I can fire up to push me in the right direction. I have arms
and legs and a heart that pumps oxygen to muscles. If conditions do not
change soon, I will begin to lose ground (water) at a faster rate. I do
not think I can row any harder than I am rowing. Indeed, I'm not sure how
long I can maintain my current efforts without injury.
I hope the wind shifts.
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