TEN…. NINE…. EIGHT… Thoughts are racing around my head like a giant disorganized herd of pregnant water buffalo playing ice hockey with sharpened samurai swords: Are we actually ready? What have we forgotten? Will we have enough food and water and basic supplies? Will the back ally stitching on our three reefs of broken sail hold the 5800 miles home?
|It's amazing the work that goes into taking down a main sail|
|It's even more amazing how you can finally fold it small enough to fit in a dingy...|
incredible…. I miss land… and there’s so many many epic people about, so much
good food to eat and too many good surfs to be had… so many places I haven’t
yet been…. So much more to see… SO much more to lick… and I’m back where I
started 11 month ago (And it’s been a flipping exceptionally incredible 11
so close I could almost swim there… it’s not too late to abandon ship and turn
in the wrong direction again… Australia
|My beautiful home.... S/V Fiddler|
FIVE… FOUR…I haven’t been home for two years, what happens if people have changed too much? Or worse; what if they haven’t changed at all? Will people even recognize me? Apart from my Nigerian skin tan, am I even still an African?
THREE… TWO… There are so many people I meant to talk to, so much I had to say [I talk a lot]. How many more birthdays will I miss? How many more people will get married? And engaged? And born? And intoxicated? And knighted? What major events will be happening around the world in the next month? Maybe the world ends and we get left behind....
|This picture has absolutely no relevance to this blog|
ONE: It’s the very end. Six months of direction change, hitching, boat work and island hopping has finally bought us to the ocean crossing. In the next 24 hours, we‘ll have done our final supply shopping, stamped out of
Indonesia and we’ll be raising anchor and launching
into the unknowns of the Indian Ocean. Our
world is about to shrink to the confounds of the ship and the marine life that
surfaces. And the stars. That’s all we’ll have until Reunion.
There’ll be no popping in to grab some fresh bread and chilli. No skyping mum a
quick “I love you”. No facebook (oh! The horrors!). No doctors (hopefully we
won’t need them). No sneaking in a non-vegetarian meal on the sly. No human
interaction apart from the crew (luckily they’re a really nice bunch).
And while I’m so terrified that I couldn’t bring myself to sleep last night, I’m pretty sure this is exactly what I’m meant to be doing with my life right now. I know we’ll be okay. Coming back to the boat last night after 3 whole days (“tiga hari” because my Indonesian’s almost practically fluentish) of land, I felt like I was coming home. And I know that for the rest of the world life will go on as normal as we blip up and down on the vortexy abyss of ocean. But know that you’ll be severely missed dear human, and if you get a chance, spare us a thought, a wish and a prayer. I’ll post out the infrequent message in a bottle…. And then see you on the other side. See you in