Longing...
Day: 41 — Position: N20 11’ E176 31’
Odometer since Waikiki: about 1,464M
Distance to Northern Marianas: 1,764M
Sea surface temperature: 81.9F - 27.5C
OCEAN ROWING RECORDS AS RUNNING TOTALS
Solo career total in days by Waikiki: 925 now 966 (New World Record)
Overall career total in days by Waikiki: 1,009 now 1,050 (New World Record)
Solo career total in miles by Waikiki: 22,173M now about 23,614M (New World Record)
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Overall career total in miles by Waikiki: 25,153M now about 26,594M
** Ralph Tuijn (NL) leads this with 35,635M
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In the spirit of Movember.com, after this update, I will elaborate once more in my upcoming Thanksgiving write up to share my own experience in mental health issues. But now…onto longing.
I last saw Nancy when she dropped me at the SeaTac Airport before my flight back to Hawaii on Sept 17. That was an unplanned but well appreciated visit to Seattle after I had decided to stop at Waikiki for repairs and to better time my Pacific crossing.
I so long for her company and my routine at home as I spend my days quarantined on my yellow rowboat. Just thinking of our dog Buddy brings a smile to my face. Nancy tells me that he sleeps on my pillow every night; a habit that he developed from us giving in to letting him sleep with us.
After I returned home from my five year circumnavigation by human power in July 2012, I had great difficulty reintegrating into society. That time was extremely stressful as we lost Nancy’s mother to multiple myeloma 5 days after my circumnavigation ended. I flew there to be with Nancy and her family after Nancy sacrificed to be with me at the end of my journey. Nancy had also accepted a new job in Sydney and couldn’t stay in the U.S. much longer. Within a few weeks she was gone. It was a whirlwind time for us both and given what we had just been through, that in and of itself was enough stress to rattle any person. Suddenly, she was gone, back to Australia, and I found myself lost and alone in our house; a place for which I had been longing, but without her, it just was not the same. It was now mid August and my task was to pack up everything to vacate our home for rental, and come join her in Sydney, yet I could not move a finger in the midst of what was a growing, deep depression. I could not budge. I had hit a wall.
It took me another 4.5 months to move. It wasn’t until New Year’s Eve that I finally could fly to Sydney to join her. She observed firsthand my mental state and how emotionally depleted I was. She too, was exhausted by all the stress she had been carrying. She knew the pace at which her job demanded her to perform was not sustainable, and she made the difficult decision to leave. We were back in Seattle exactly one year later.
Nancy watched as my depression continued to grow and saw I was not getting better. She became convinced that I needed something that needed me, like an animal, to look after, to help pull me out of my depression. “You need a creature that needs you, something to take care of to keep you in the present moment; to get you out of your own head,” she would say. Although I originally objected to this idea and the thought of being held down by a pet, we moved forward. It had to be a rescue dog. Given that I had severe allergies to cat dander, it needed to be a hypoallergenic non-shedding variety.
When a dozen dogs arrived at a local rescue outfit that November, all turned out to be white poodle types except this one little black cockapoo among them. His name was Maddox. They say black dogs are less likely to be adopted, which I will never understand. Seeing that he was willing to accept us, having jumped into my lap immediately, we decided he was the one. We renamed him “Buddy.” Who would name a dog Maddox anyway? :)
This street fighter, fearful, food-aggressive dog which was quick to defend when feeling threatened, over the next several months, turned more trusting and affectionate. He finally accepted his lower rank in the pack, became more cooperative, predictable and loving. He brought so much joy into our lives, created an excuse to call on friends to exchange dog sitting favors and forced on us, rain or shine, a regular routine to get outside at least twice a day for walks. That peaceful time outside often became a planned family jaunt in our nearby park, if not time alone without any cables attached, to just be in the moment, to reflect, to sort out life, to stop and literally smell the roses.
What I know for sure is that Buddy rescued me as much as we rescued him. He was the medicine I needed on my comeback to a new normal. We were told he was 2 years old when he arrived to us in late November 2013. He is nearly 10 years old now, and has silver hairs on his chin to show for it.
On the 19th there will be a full moon. If Nancy were to take Buddy on a stroll at 11 pm, the moon would be visible above the mature Douglas Fir trees in our neighborhood. That would be half an hour after moonrise for me, allowing the moon to become prominent among the cloud cover. We would be looking at the same moon; as close to a date night as we could manage, given a huge ocean lies between us.
As I mentioned earlier, I last saw Nancy exactly two months ago on Sept 17 before my flight back to Waikiki. As I row alone across this vast ocean slowly toward Hong Kong, I thought this song would be appropriate. Solitude has its price; we each choose to remain strong in these passages when we are apart, but I still miss her, nonetheless.
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“On a Slow Boat to China” — https://youtu.be/xTWrdUcsHJg
Song by Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney (this version by Bette Midler and Barry Manilow)
I’d like to get you on a slow boat to China
All to myself alone
Get you and keep you in my arms evermore
Leave all your lovers weeping on the faraway shore
Out on the briny with the moon big and shiny
Melting your heart of stone
I’d love to get you on a slow boat to China
All to myself alone