And today marks three whole months of adventures out on this ‘ere ocean for Dippers and I. One quarter of one whole year. We celebrated by rowing. Even splashed out by doing so in the right direction. And crossing into the next degree. The sea had obviously been informed as to the occasion for we were ceremoniously soaked at regular intervals, generally only moments after I thought it safe to take off my jacket. Thankfully the sun popped out from behind the clouds almost as frequently and so the soakings weren’t too unfunny. And I have passed three months without having a flying fish land on my person. Phew.
3 months at sea has produced:
-1 lean, tanned, sun-bleached, salty-round-the-edges rower with(quoteth my dear Mum) ”guns any artillery would be proud of”(unquoteth my dear Mum)
-A happy absence of scurvy and insanity (the latter may be open to debate)
-1 Rower’s Bottom
-1 heavily depleted chocolate stockpile, 1 completely decimated biscuit stash, 1 half guzzled bottle of Port
-A crazed collection of quotes and scribbles on the cabin wall
-A few barnacle communes on the hull and rudder, various attempts at slimes around the scuppers on deck
– 3 large bags of rubbish
– 2 empty gas cannisters
– 1 broken oar, 1 dead stove, various losses to the deep
– Numerous diary tapes and films
– Various artistic repairs and modifications (mostly with gaffa tape)
Perhaps most importantly, it has also produced a beautiful squiggle across the blue, too – 2,986 miles complete with knots and hairpin bends, fine latticework and knitted wonders – thankfully the current end of said squiggle being closer to the Rum Punch than the last drink I had in Oz. Three whole months ago. It was an OJ, for breakfast. With pancakes and fruit and yogurt and muesli and *drum roll* a real knife and fork. Yum with a capital Y.
Besides the squiggle, our three month’s voyaging thus far has treated us to the most brilliant adventures, trials, spectacles and wonders, too. Roll on the final 1,000 nauties – let them be a fine vintage, Westward in nature, sunny by day and starry by night, punctuated by many serendipitous encounters with some fellow seabies.
Here’s hoping July has fewer issues with troublesome wind than poor June did. And May. Poor dears. They suffered something chronic.
Signing out,
Out x
PS
Frankie Owens – My one real regret is not bringing a plankton net, ID guide & magnifier! Lots of whales…
Barry Gumbert – There are sea mounts out here though and currents with lots of food in. And some species are migratory and wide-ranging. I think they must all be appearing when I’m not looking…
Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum – your self-description made me think of pirates and old sea-dogs but they usually have peg-legs and eye-patches, so I think you are doing rather better than that! Goodbye to Flamin’ June and welcome blythe July – here’s to a wonderful last thousand miles, may they skoosh by nice ‘n’ quick! Amanda x
Hi Sarah, What an accomplishment not to mention the awareness and money raised so far for Arthritis Care! What a champion. Here’s to some smooth rowing for the last 1,000! From all your Natracare SISTERs!
On behalf of June I want to say, thank you for being lovely to us here in her summer feeding lands, but as she closes the door, to make sure that July, in her southern winter hunting grounds, treats Sarah gently as she rows over the surf westwards to Mauritius. Already a heroine in Indian Ocean folklore – tremendous! Susie
Poor June, we only knew you but a short time.
Congrats Sarah on the first 3 months!!!
I was wondering and others do ask “what does happen to the empty packets and empty gas canisters? I think you may have answered the question up above!
And it doesn’t matter what squiggles you make they are you just squiggling along!!!
Tx
Yo Sarah,
Great rowing. You are an inspiration. Enjoy the adventure.
From a sunny Moscow….
Ger.
Don`t worry about the depleting choccie pile, I`m sure Dawn can top it up for you when you get home. haha
Amazing to think you have been away so long, it seems less. And what a massive amount you have accomplished so far. Hoping for better weather than June and a safe passage the last 1000. Currently we are at a Bon Iver gig in Hyde Park. Beautiful weather recently and not long til the Monsters break up for summer hols.
Continue to have fun, love J and George xx
Hi! I’ll be without e-mail for 3-weeks, but will be thinking of you, Dippy and the choc store. Keep Bob behind bars and spot at least one shark from a safe distance. I’ll have a feast of a read when I get back. May your backside become leather, Hazel.
Hi little sister,
Congratulations on your third month at sea. It only seems like yesterday before you left for Australia. I am very proud of what you have achieved so far, and dad would be too. Your nearly there now so one last push will bring you home. Keep going little un. Big love xxx
Let’s still hope the sharks don’t come for a visit
hi sarah,here’s to a new month,although there were some obvious and wonderful highlights on balance on your behalf ididn’t care too much for june and am hoping for a consistently positive progress to that rum punch which by the way i hope they are keeping cool for you!
congratulations on the three month mark being passed in such fine fettle,will dippers get a spruce up when you get to land,i think she deserves one,if you’ve time it might be worth taking bob to a couple of kite festivals back in blighty(that is if he doesn’t get the hump at being called a kite!)
regards
ian