My first blog contained mainly facts. After three weeks at sea my thoughts now are more abstract.
Most men don't show their emotions, Englishmen even less so, myself even less than that.
We have all witnessed amazing things that create amazing highs and lows:
*Denis Bergkamp turning the Newcastle defence inside out, ball one way him the other.
*That amazing team goal Jack Wilshere scored against Norwich.
*Bernhard Langer missing that 6 foot putt that would’ve retained the Ryder Cup for Europe at Kiawah Island.
*Chipping in from 90 yards for birdie at Hillside Golf Club to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.
The bigger personal highs of; marriage to Bernie 41 years ago; the births of Paul, Amy and Jack; and my grandchildren Ivy, Zac and Bea.
This is context for my moment of euphoria.
Sitting on the deck of a 70 foot yacht somewhere in the South Atlantic, with the wind at 50 mph, rolling waves the size of small blocks of flats, howling in the rigging, huddled in the cockpit feeling very small. Then, the clouds part, a patch of blue sky lets the sun shine on the ocean. The water turns a dark cobalt blue, the breaking wave crests a brilliant white foam. Then a rainbow appears. I sit completely overwhelmed by the awesome scale of what I am a part of and I start to cry. It was a moment of pure euphoria that I am lucky enough to have experienced.
72 hours later the next storm arrives, and I am huddled in the same cockpit, the wind is rampaging across the ocean at up to 70 mph. Grey sea, waves much higher than before. Spray and foam fill the air stinging my face. White streaks everywhere. What a bleak Godforsaken place.
What am I doing here?
This is what I came for.
Love to Bernie, Paul, Amy, Jack, Linds, Georgie, Ivy and Zac.