Credit: Erinn J Hale Photography
It is now two weeks later and I have switched rowing partners and sleep schedules, but for the sake of continuity I will continue with my old day’s schedule… By the way, we switch partners when we are ready for a change or feel like it is a good time to do so. Nothing is taken personally, or so we hope.
[If you haven’t read Part 1 of the ‘Day in the Life,’ click here!]
08:00am I awake from a 2 hour sleep, during which the sun has risen to a height in which it is ready to burn our pasty Nordic skin. I find it a difficult balance between not wanting to be constantly saturated in sunscreen, and wanting to have as much fresh air on my skin as possible (i.e. the more naked the better). The oats that Adam has made are filled with dried fruit and protein powder, and tend to stick nicely to my insides. This next hour of rowing flies by.
09:00am One hour of rest to get something done: organize the crowded cabin/office/bedroom/lounge/whatever you’d like to call it. Read/write email, process hours of video footage and convert a few files to send your way. Never enough time. Funny that people think we have all the time in the world out here.
10:00am Another hour and a half of rowing. For the first couple of weeks the heat was not too much of an issue thanks to the 25mph winds – one of the few benefits of these winds at our beam was that they kept things a bit cooler. We could could have lived happily without the constant spray and chop that made it difficult to get a good oar stroke in. Now that the winds are gone, the following shifts are hot, sweaty, and thirsty. It’s exhausting trying to hydrate myself enough to keep pace with the sun’s endless assault on my body’s homeostasis.
11:30am If I was successful in hydrating, I have plenty of energy to prepare a meal of Backpacker’s Pantry. I initially had my doubts about these ready-made meals but have grown quite fond of their generous spicing and I strategically ordered a wide variety of them to keep things interesting. On a calm day, boiling water and pouring it into the bags of dehydrated food is simple, quick and easy. For the majority of the first 2 weeks, the process was complicated, endless, and sometimes skipped altogether due to the challenge of keeping a stove working in a gale, with a sideways salty shower, while riding an uncoordinated bucking bull. The reward is heaven. A hot meal to warm the soul and recharge the engines of this l’il boat that could, can, and will.
12:30pm The hardest part of cooking is cleaning up. You’re satisfied, the meal was great, all you want to do is sit there and appreciate the Ocean. Instead you must continually stick your blistered and beaten hands into the vat of blue acid – at least it sometimes feels like that due to the salt penetrating and stinging any weakness in your body’s outer defense system. Sometimes I wish I was a dolphin.
13:00pm Time to row for another 2 hours during the hottest part of the day. Must. Drink. More. Water. Electrolyte drink works well too, but an IV would be best. Whale!!! Our friend in the sea shows her fin for a few seconds, as if to let us know that she is with us, or watching us, or listening to us, or perhaps attempting to tell us something. I think I understand. I will do my best, my friend. But for now I must rest some more. I fall peacefully into the depths of my consciousness as the whale descends into the abyss.
I love this.
…to be continued…