Today was my ocean rowboat Sedna's anticipated arrival date in Miami. I rang the handling agents to find out if she had indeed arrived.
The first time I tried the entire department was out to lunch. The second time I tried I got through to someone who didn't know how to use her computer screen. The third time I found someone who could tell me something, although not necessarily the thing I wanted to hear...
Sedna is still gadding about in the Caribbean, most likely Trinidad, although who knows. Her ETA in Miami is now 11th December. I am so glad that circumstances conspired to prevent me being there waiting for her. She is already 4 weeks overdue, and 10 days still to go. At least. I would have been going crazy. And broke.
Why does EVERYTHING involving boats take so much longer than expected? Speaking of which, we went into town to try and buy replacements for Jangada's lightning-fried electronics today. But it's some random Mexican bank holiday, that happens once every six years, to hand over the reins of power to the new president. Great.
[Photo: the last time I saw Sedna, in Hugh Bailey's boatyard in Antigua]
Previous Posts on Sedna's Caribbean Tour:
Sedna Still Holidaying in Caribbean - 27 Nov
The Strange Voyage of Sedna Solo
Steve Roberts sent me this story today - a container-load of Doritos washed up on a beach in North Carolina. Two thoughts occur to me:
1. I am glad that these plastics washed up on shore before they could kill any marine life. There is far too much plastic contaminating the world's oceans already.
2. I am hoping that the container carrying Sedna did not suffer a similar fate...
Thanks for all the fantastic messages I've received over the Leander issue - both in comments on the blog, and in personal emails.
It's been humbling to hear from people who enjoy reading about my ocean rowing exploits past and future, and has given me much-needed encouragement as I go through this tricky stage in my preparations for the Pacific, when shipping bills are so near and sponsorship seems so far...
It is exactly one year since I set out from La Gomera to row 3000 miles across the Atlantic. My first dispatch shows I didn't get off to a promising start.
It's hard now to identify with that nervous ocean rower taking her first tentative strokes in between hanging over the side of the boat to be sick. By the end of my 103 days at sea I had long since found my sea legs, and knew much more about the ocean and about myself than I did at the start.
And yet in another way I can still relate to that feeling of taking on a large project and feeling daunted. I am up to Chapter Three of my Atlantic book, and I feel I have so much I want to say that the closing line seems as far away as Antigua is from the Canaries. While I was out on the ocean someone wrote to me, 'After this nothing will ever seem difficult.' Not true. Life always will be and always should be full of challenges.