Ocean glitter

Snippet from my journal on 18th December - night 4.

It's 4:51am. Wind 18-20knots from the east, gusting 25. The strongest winds we've ever been out in. Viki is asleep in the stern cabin; I'm on the oars with Abbey behind me in bow seat. She's just swapped in for Ana, who's now peeing in a bottle because its too perilous to use Terence. Job done, she retreats into the bow cabin for her snooze. The speaker has died so we are without tunes. Normally I'd be falling asleep, but I'm wide awake tonight.

It's pitch dark... dark like I've never seen anywhere else. There was a sliver of moon out earlier, but that set about 10pm. The stars are incredible, although I'm not looking up at them tonight; instead I am fixated on our Garmin screen. I'm watching the speed with every stroke because we're taking all the free speed from the waves we can get. Take a stroke, pause before the slide, ride it out until the speed drops then slide to the catch again. Our top speed so far has been 9.9knots! We can't see at all what we're rowing in. Haven't got a clue how big these waves are. Every now and then, one breaks to the side of us and the bioluminescence shimmers on the crest. It's stunning, almost like someone has spilt a pot of glitter. There are little pools of sparkles around the oar spoons every time they cut through the water. Magical is probably the best word for it.

We're getting thrown around a lot; there doesn't seem to be much structure in the swell. It's amazing how quickly we've adjusted to the conditions out here. We trust our boat entirely, and I guess it's all those hours we spent training on her paying off. We get a couple of rogue waves knocking us with force from the port side, and even a few seriously rogue ones from starboard that really throw us off guard. Those are the wet ones. It's not cold though; I'm in my pants and a light rain jacket.

Other than a few calls of "oars up", some yelps when the big ones get us and a little bit of chat, we keep it quiet. I find I'm very present with my thoughts, living entirely in the moment. I feel like I should be scared, but I'm not. I'm totally calm. The ocean might be fierce yes, but Sarabi was built for this. And maybe a little piece of me was too.