After just 67 days on the Pacific, our favorite, loony French solo rower, Maud Fontenoy, is a little over 300 miles from French Polynesia. That potentially puts her just weeks away from becoming the first woman to row both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. Considering that she was prepared to be slumped over her oars for up to 150 days, I’d say she is–let’s see, how do I put this?–kicking ass. But “it’s not over til it’s over” as they say in Toulouse, and plenty could go wrong. Like what? Well, she could capsize and flood, as she almost did just recently. Here’s her typically whimsical account of that experience:
“Capsizing with an open hatch to breath = guaranteed fright.
Since yesterday evening the ocean becomes more violent, showing me that nothing is won; he’s the only one to decide. The coast is not far away, the danger remains the same. I’m inside my little cage, one hand to hold me, the other ready to close the hatch in case of problem. The oxygen is missing but I know that there’s nothing to do. I try to empty ma head, so that hours pass faster. A migraine keeps me awake in spite of the tiredness.
Suddenly, a terrific roar can be heard. A huge breaker gobbles OCÉOR and myself. I band all my muscles, jump to the hatch but the water already came in. I cling on the locks; a real fright comes over me, my head hurting the bubble, my stomach coming up, my breath cut, my weight used to keep the balance. OCÉOR rolls like crushed by the wave. I tremble with all my body, and everything stops.
We just capsized.
My heart beats in my chest. Don’t panic, stay calm. I take a deep breath, force myself to swallow, my rib hurts, aand a small voice in my ear tells me to look at my red nose, still fixed there.
Come on Maud, a smile !
One solution: resolve the problems one after one, like a robot. I count:
1 : a bucket to empty
2 : take the wet clothing out
3 : my sat ohone was in the water, it doesn’t work anymore A strange silence appeared around me.
Two hours later: sitting on my berth full of salt water, wet, exhausted, I take care of my phone, cotton bud after cotton bud-concentrated–I connect it to the battery: it doesn’t display anything anymore. Exhausted, I push the button: bip, bip, an agreable heat streams in me. Miracle !
I can see there a sign of the Big Universe. I try to call on land, it rings shyly. Chris picks up, and I don’t know why, some tears roll over my face.
Ah these girls !!
Bisous toujours,
Maud”
Here are some words to describe this woman: plucky, indomitable, blistered, wet…
The Trials Of Maud: “Merde! You’d think the US Navy would have something better to do than search my little boat for drugs. At least they’re not demanding a strip search…”
The Earthist Chronicles 