Day 68

Day Three on sea anchor was utterly uneventful. I'm still holding up fine, so far, and am just living my life, killing time and, of course, waiting for the winds to change direction. Wind was from the West again all day today and in the 15k range. Seas were smallish and not breaking/splashing much, so I was able to keep the cabin cooler during the heat of the day than it had been on Saturday and Sunday. I spent the day on the computer, mostly - writing emails, playing Freecell (my record since Saturday is 47 wins, 22 losses...not great), and watching the occasional episode of Rob and Big, which my sister gave me on a thumb drive for Christmas. It's been a life saver these past few days!

In other news, I've been meaning to write about a moment from last Friday (Day 65) that has been one of the highlights of the row for me thus far. My contact with the ship Pasella on Day 62 was a little bit of a let-down, given that it was my first sign of other human life since 29 days prior. I had really been hoping to see an airplane some time soon, maybe because seeing two of them at once picked me up quite a bit all the way back on Day 13. I figured that since I was getting closer to the Caribbean and am probably also between some point in Brazil and the US I might be due to see one any time.

Soooo, do you know where this is headed? On Friday I had been rowing along in the middle of my evening shift around 6PM. Another beautiful day with a few clouds and otherwise clear skies. Not really much to the story, other than that I looked up and to my left and almost fell off of my rowing seat when I saw a big, beautiful exhaust trail streaking a dead-straight path of the brightest white imaginable through the evening sky. The plane was still overhead when I noticed the trail and at the time it was the most incredible sight to see. It was low enough for me to clearly make out the wings and even the engines, and I had no problem imagining all of the passengers seated in neat little rows sipping warm diet coke out of those plastic cocktail glasses.

To my complete surprise I quickly found myself getting choked up at the sight (I'm not generally a fan of sappy emotions), and I stopped rowing to stare at the trail long after the plane had disappeared over the horizon. It's amazing how 65+ days in a rowboat can change your priorities...

You might have to look closely to see it, but here's a picture of what I saw:

Tomorrow an update on the wildlife I've seen and have some pictures of -- flying fish, a purplish-pink floating booger-like thing, and giant and potentially man-eating birds!

Thanks to all who have supported this expedition and important research at Yale Cancer Center with a donation to Row for Hope. If you haven't donated, or if you would consider donating again, it would be much appreciated. To donate online use the link in the upper right-hand corner of this page or visit www.rowforhope.com.

Paul