Where's circumnavigator Jeanne? On the blower

Circumnavigator Jeanne Socrates, 76, on Nereida sails into her last month at sea, now well north in the North Pacific, with the wily old Southern Ocean left far behind.

The major danger she faces now comes from tropical revolving storms, two of which are loitering, seemingly with intent.

This is along her track back to the home port of Victoria, British Columbia, which she sailed from on 3rd October.

The National Hurricane Centre reported that storm Flossie – at 12.2°N 120.5°W - was about to swell to hurricane strength.

A major hurricane

The fury is travelling west at 15 mph. The maximum sustained winds were blowing at 70 mph, with minimum pressure at 999mb.

Meanwhile, storm Erick (seemingly American spelling) becomes a major hurricane far east-south-east of Hawaii, the centre reports.

Early this morning, the hurricane was travelling at 17 mph at 13.4°N x 142.8°W.

 Sustained gusts are blasting at 115 mph.

It makes sense that Jeanne has decided to slow to a dawdle. You might imagine that passing time like that when home is but three weeks away could be utterly frustrating. However, true to her gender, she's keeping busy on the blower.
Continues on the blogs for my ocean adventuring book, Sailing to Purgatory, at http://sailingtopurgatory.com/index.php/feeds/424-where-s-circumnavigator-jeanne-on-the-blower

Remembering with a forget-full memory

While I still remember the article I’ve just been reading, do let me pass on a word or two about memory, and as importantly – for me, anyway – forgetting.

When you have a few years under your belt, why is it that it’s our forgetfulness than gives away, well, our age, like some absent-minded professor.

I can tell you aspects of my toddlerhood, of that first day at school, of leaving Plymouth to sail around the world on my own.

Yet I can meet someone I was introduced to and chatted with only a day before and simply can’t recall the name.

Trapped underwater

In a dismasting of a yacht in a South Atlantic storm one night, I recall clearly being trapped underwater and realising there could be no escape.

I don’t recall it so vividly because I spoke to many people afterwards about it because it was a month before I saw another human.

I remember so clearly on that month adrift finding and opening joyfully a packet of nuts and raisins. Oh, and I found a Walkman in a waterproof container that survived the overturning and swamping.

I tried it, and heard Beethoven, and recall the moment at if it happened this morning. Continues on the blogs for my ocean adventuring book, Sailing to Purgatory, at  http://sailingtopurgatory.com/index.php/feeds/423-remembering-with-a-forget-full-memory

Distress and drama: perfect for dieting

As promised and just a few days late, here is my guide for painless yet strict dieting, for giving up eating pleasures you’ve known since, well, for a long time.

Of course, it just might be the setting and unusual dramas all packed together

that makes for success.

For instance, trying it at home with the larder packed with delights might not be ideal.

The State gave me that advantage. It was some hours earlier that I had a very pleasant breakfast at home with daughter Emily and my fiancée, a gifted piano recitalist who I loved dearly.

Wonderful company

If the diet that began in a few hours was to be tried in that wonderful company and at home, success is bound to have been unsuccessful.

We three visited dear friends, and would have had lunch with Gerry, a formidable cook and hostess, when again any suggestion of dieting could be forgotten before it began.

As I mentioned, we arrived a minute or two before noon, and within the hour, perhaps 30 minutes, I was in a car being driven to the then Customs HQ in London.

To help the diet get going, circumstance probably assisted.

I had just experienced extreme drama – ambush, taken away from loved ones, and friends, and just about everything in my life that was familiar.

Fortunately, I had not the least idea then that I would not be free again for almost 3,000 days, eight years and a fortnight.

Never see the familiar again

I would never see my fiancée again, would see Emily just once more, never see my home, nor car, nor yacht ever again. In fact, just about all that was familiar. … Continues on the blogs for my ocean adventuring book, Sailing to Purgatory, at    sailingtopurgatory.com/index.php/feeds/422-distress-and-drama-perfect-for-dieting