The Isles are all atwitter today as Ellen MacArthur is expected to pull into Falmouth any hour now, after setting the round-the-world solo-sailing record last night somewhere off the coast of France--71 days, 14 hours, 18 minutes and 33 seconds after starting her journey. She returns a hero, though tempered by reports of constant "wingeing" (whining?) on her weblog. (Hey, it's hard enough blogging every single day, without having to contend with doldrums, 30 foot waves, and obstructionist fish!)
There were also complaints her journey, sponsored by B&Q hardward stores, was so high tech it hardly counted as human achievement, that her journal entries describing an encounter with a whale weren't quite up to Melville. And worse, that her lack of a stiff upper lip, illustrated by her online "psycho babble," might have permanently damaged the national psyche.
Whatever.
For those who can't get behind Ellen, here's another hero, another British woman who braved the wide sea on her own, but in a rowboat, not a high tech "trimaran" with GPS positioning, a Royal Airforce helo hovering overhead, and 12 webcams.
Debra Veal set off in 2001 to row across the Atlantic in the Ward Evans Atlantic Rowing Challenge, accompanied by her husband Andrew, an experienced rower. Though she'd only learned to row in the last year, she looked forward to the challenge, and a little time alone with hubby.
Nine days later, her husband left the boat after coming down with an uncontrollable fear of the ocean. She continued alone, battling the sea, dodging supertankers, and befriending sea turtles. Here's an excerpt from her Top Ten Worst Moments:
Link: Troika Transatlantic Diary Continued.
5. Day 19 - Had a shark under the boat that night, chasing fish. As I watched the trail of glowing phosphorescence as it swam at high speeds I convinced myself that it was going to attack the boat so I hid in the cabin, very scared until dawn.
4. Day 14 - They day Andrew left the boat. As I watched the yacht sail towards us on its way to pick up Andrew we held each other and cried. I couldn't help thinking that if anything went wrong we might never see each other again.
3. Ten days of unbearable loneliness at the start of December, which climaxed on day 65 when I cried from 8am till 11am, until I finally plucked up enough strength to get out of the cabin and row. My diary that day reads, "wind was so strong, fighting the waves kept on making me dissolve into tears. I'm so exhausted and just want to sleep".
2. Day 23 - Everything seemed to be going wrong then I nearly got run down by a super tanker. I wrote in my diary, "I am at an all time low and don't know if I am going to be able to recover… I'm so scared and I want to go home".
Debra lost the race, in fact, not only did she come in last--111 days after starting, 69 days behind the winning team--but she was also disqualified.
Whatever.
She's got my vote for "Pluckiest Seafaring Brit Since Francis Drake" and my admiration, and who cares if she doesn't describe her encounter with a sea turtle quite the way Melville would?
Read her diary and laugh, cry, and winge with her:
6. Day 54 - First day of surfing really big waves. I wrote in my diary, "It was awesome - I LOVE IT!". That evening my face ached from grinning so much.
Now there's a stiff upper lip!
