Shouting from my shed

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Memories Are Made Of Moments

“I do not need to row the Atlantic to know that I like roast chicken,” said a wise person to me one day. Whilst one motivation for me in enduring the monotony, grind and toil of this trip IS to earn a heightened appreciation for my normal life (succulent chicken, fresh peas, ice cream for dessert….. *sigh*), this is not the only attraction.

Yesterday, (in a rare moment of waking lucidity that did not involve complete nudity) Steve said, “You know, we need to savour these moments. This will all be over soon.” And he is right. It is the small moments of magic, the tiny sparkling gems amongst the dragging hours and weeks, that my landlubbing, roast chicken appreciating friend will not know.

– The uncontrollable, hysterical laughter of four friends, together a thousand miles from land. – Watching each slow second of a full moon rising, lighting our way across the black ocean. – Hauling a huge fish on board – as long as a man’s leg and strong as hell. – The shining flank and spouting spray of a whale broaching not far from the boat. – Eating chocolate in a warm sleeping bag after rowing through a rainstorm, speaking via satellite phone to a class of schoolchildren on the other side of the planet.

Moments like these will remain when the hard times have blurred into one dim, receding memory. These moments, plus the biggest, juiciest roast chicken you have ever seen, are what will make everything about this experience worthwhile in the end.

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Comments

  1. What you are doing is amazing. Keep going. All that deprivation is good for the soul and makes great reading for us!

    Reply

 
 

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Shouting from my shed

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