Day 2 (Part 2): Dancing over waves and finding new limits
Waking up to the sun dancing through the birch leaves
Route: Stora Blotholmen Island → Ålandet Island
DATE: Sunday, 25th August 2019
Number of blisters: 13
Dancing with the waves
It’s a long way!
Having emerged from the security of my idyllic morning shortcut, this afternoon’s stretch is a wide channel following the west coast of the long narrow island of Yxlan. This will be more exposed than any section before.
The wind has picked up and lucky for me, it’s picked up in almost the exact direction I’m going. Out here the water is deeper, so the waves are bigger when the cruisers come past. Unlike yesterday, Saga the row boat feels stronger, I feel confident. Effortlessly powering through this choppy channel with the wind behind me, helping me to row fast. Maneuvering in the waves is a continuous mental game. Weather like this reminds me of what I can do.
When the water is rough, I thrive, I enjoy it. It challenges me and I find it exciting being moved with the currents, controlling and rolling with them.
In the afternoon a few sailing boats are out in the strong winds with their sails reduced and tipping over at 45 degree angles so I can see the bottom of their hulls.
To my astonishment, Saga and I are having no trouble so far in these conditions. Every few waves I catch a little surf. Whooshing further down the channel. She’s built for it. She loves it. And so do I!
The end of land
Many hours passed,but I didn’t notice. Dancing the waves was so much fun. Still feeling fresh and exhilarated, I reached Furusund, the last point on the Swedish mainland and my planned destination for today.
Making it here in record time (by 4:30 pm), I treat myself to a break and a rickety but welcoming pontoon bathed in afternoon sunshine calls out to me. It’s a novelty getting out of the boat. I stretch my limbs and reach for my pre-made veggie couscous (thank you past-self!). Sitting at the edge of the pontoon, dangling my legs over the water I gulped down a litre of water in one go and dug my orange travel spork into the food. It’s day 2 and already I’ve got used to taking breaks sitting in the boat bobbing on the water. Stretching out now feels such a treat!
<— Looking back
Taking the time for reflection I look back down the long Yxlan channel, and it dawns on me how much adventure I’ve had so far on this trip. Just 2 days in and this is more than I could have ever hoped for.
This wonderland where the land intertwines with the sea is stunningly magical. The wild spaces on the islands I pass resemble the magical places storybooks speak of. The journey I’ve been on as I row, and the time I've had to inwardly reflect has become priceless to me. me.
I can easily say that if anything happened and this row had to end or the crossing was not possible, I will still feel more than satisfied and fulfilled by the adventures so far. I’ve collected memories that will stay with me for a lifetime.
——————————
Looking forward —>
Munching down another giant sporkful of couscous, I turned my head 180 degrees to my left. It’s a whole different piece of water out there.
This is the point where the land falls away, the islands get smaller and less frequent, from here on it’s more exposed. It looks wild like the sea. Bluer. Deeper. And much more open.
The waves are bigger. It dawns on me that this is where the real adventure begins. The two days so far have just been a warm-up. ‘Inland rowing’. Now I make the choice to head out into the open.
It’s a simple decision? Right?
Perplexed by what seemed like a simple decision in front of me. I paused. Looking forwards and looking back. Something deep inside me holding me back.
I munched another sporkful of couscous and stared into the swirling water directly by my feet. Remembering the 5-year-old child inside of me, who longed to explore.
Remembering the days spent on the beach in Devon, England, splashing my feet through the shallow water across the dark red sand. Climbing over the sides into my little blue and yellow inflatable swimming-pool rowboat, with plastic blue oars and white blades. Pointing it out to sea and looking back at the beach.
I remembered being really annoyed and frustrated that there was a rope tied to the end - I’d row out, making a beeline for the horizon and then feel the tug when I’d reached the end of the line. I wanted more, I wanted a longer line. I longed to explore. Curious to know if I could row it to France!
Much to my frustration, my dad lovingly (annoyingly!!!) tied a long rope to it to check I didn’t. “You’re 5 years old!” he would remind me. “You’re not allowed to row out of your depth!”.
(In hindsight, looking back, this memory warms my heart and I think to myself “What a thoughtful father”. “What dedication to stand there in the water for so long getting cold!” and I’m eternally grateful. But the rebellious and adventure-seeking child inside me was pissed-off about the rope.
This was something which kept me safe in the past. Now, it’s become a strong and powerful inbuilt message that’s holding me back. There’s something about being in a small open rowboat on my own that triggers my subconscious into ringing it’s alarm bells and throwing up warning messages.
I had a strong feeling in my body that I’d come to the end of the rope in my mind. To the end of the safety in the islands. I felt like rowing past here, somehow (surely!) wasn’t allowed? Not on my own? Not in a little rowboat?
I looked exciting out to sea, I wanted it, but I knew to pass this point would need me to step over some big and long-standing limiting beliefs in my mind.
Then, with that nagging voice in my head, I scoff down my last chocolate bar and climb back into the boat. Untied the rope, and pushed off. Giving myself brownie-points for self-awareness and feeling as empowered as an Amazonian warrior, I spun Saga’s bow round to point out towards the big blue and I set off.
Mental note to self - my brain needs a software upgrade. Delete old messaging & replace with:
“I’m not that 5-year-old girl anymore - I’m an ocean-going record holder”.
“It’s totes ok (and frickin awesome) to follow your passion and do your thing!”
“I can, and will, cross oceans.”
I looked down at the picture a friend had brought me to stick on my map board and giggled. ‘They know me too well’ I thought!
A message from a friend.
Untying the rope
As I rowed on I felt like I’d untied many ropes and restrictions in my mind. I know logically and practically, I’m capable of doing this. I have the skills, the knowledge and strength. But giving myself permission and allowing myself to do it and to have fun with it was a whole different thing.
Engulfed by the ocean
A big wave swooshed across the top of the boat and rolled off the other side. The wind direction had spun round and the waves were coming towards me side-on.
My new found self-empowerment was short-lived. The distance between these stronger waves was short enough to hit the front and the back of the boat differently about half a second apart, making it a jolty ride. At best, rowing in this was chaotic. I needed to bail.
Changing my direction of travel to ease the pressure of the pounding waves I swung left and battled through to the nearest island. Which was further away than the previous islands, now they were more spread out.
#Reality
Wet, empowered, and hit by reality.
Perhaps this is Mother Nature’s way of reminding me who is really in charge here.
Ok, so it’s tougher out here and now I know the limits of Saga and I. I have experienced the particular wind speed and direction that makes it pretty impossible to row.
A Safe Haven,
. . . and swimming into the sunset
Tucking around the downwind side of a long thin island, like a natural giant windbreak, I found a sheltered spot to rest up for the night. The west side of this island is beautifully calm compared to the east side. The sheer contrast blows my mind and is a welcome reassuring refuge.
This is a beach which I’ll never forget.
Undoing the tape on my hands which are blistered and raw from battling the conditions today. I relax on the long beach. Tomorrow I will tape them better as I’ll need them to heal.
From all the racing around and wave hopping today, I need a wash, and luckily I have a whole island and beach to myself. As the sun is gently setting between distant islands. I grab some birch leaves for soap and walk into the sea to feel clean. Relaxing, floating, in this paradise.