After meeting two Venezuelan fishing boats in the same day, I played it safe and did my evening shift with the nav-light on (I usually only leave it on while sleeping, as it can be difficult to watch for waves with it on). The light seemed to attract a different kind of visitor: a bird. It was flying rather awkwardly, almost like a bat, and found itself a spot in the cockpit.

Midnight … 2AM … 6AM … 8AM … it was still there. Most other birds leave by sunrise so I knew something must be up. And then it did it. It hobbled around, unable to fly with perhaps a broken wing. With a cockpit about 4-feet long, I debated whether or not this was the right place for an injured bird. I couldn’t bear to put “Hobs” overboard, so I let him stay.

After 10 minutes of rowing, I feared running him over with the sliding seat, so I fenced him in the corner of the cockpit with some snacks; they remained uneaten. Humans can have three days without water and possibly 10 without food; if that is the standard for birds too, I’m afraid Hobs’ days may be numbered.

With less than 150 miles to go, it’s now my personal mission to do what I can to save Hobs.

Katie is now within the final 150nm of her epic voyage across the Atlantic Ocean. Normally, that would still be a massive distance to row but, when you’ve already covered the best part of 3,000 miles (if you include all the wiggly bits!), it becomes the final straight. As many of you will know, one of Katie’s main goals with this expedition was to raise money in order to provide clean drinking water to thousands of people worldwide. This is a cause that Katie believes in passionately, as you can see from the blog she wrote a month ago, which you can read here.

Katie has currently set a target of raising $60,000, which would enable 2,000 people to get access to clean water for life. At the moment, the total stands at $54,100. I now have a challenge for you…

In just a few days’ time (probably Saturday or Sunday), Katie will set foot on land for the first time in over 10 weeks. Let’s hit the target before then so one of the first things she can hear is: “You’ve raised $60,000″.

You can donate now by clicking here and going through a few simple steps.

This is undoubtedly an ambitious goal and will take some effort. But hopefully a little bit of Katie has rubbed off on all of us these past few months – challenges are there to be met. After all, isn’t that what Katie’s about to do?

[For further information about why every single donation is invaluable, please look at the Guest Blog by Lisa Nash and the Blue Planet Run Foundation website. Please pass this to as many people as you can. It's amazing what can be achieved when we all get involved!]

Today was one of the few days where I relished in my decision to wear clothes. Let me take a step back…

First: no, I’m not an exhibitionist, but salt has a way of making any fabric rough. With rowing and moving my entire body all day, chafing can be prevented by not wearing anything. So, I was rowing along and over my shoulder … a boat.

Not a sail-boat or a freighter; I’m not really sure what kind of boat it was, but as long as it’s not a big ship I’m generally safe. As it came nearer, I was struggling to decide whether to grab a gift or a weapon, so I stuck with the camera instead. The initial excitement was replaced slightly by fear when I spotted 10 tanned men on the boat.

After a greeting, I realised there was a language barrier between us, but I could understand “Venezuela” and they “Guyana”. One man asked “Problem?” and I shook my head. A few minutes of awkward stares followed as we realised that was all we could do, so I kept rowing. After 30 or 40 yards, I noticed a couple of dolphins swam by, either curious about our encounter or my own personal oceanic bodyguards.

A few hours passed, and there it was again: the same boat. All sorts of thoughts ran through my head, thinking they were back after thoroughly devising a plan of attack. You never know!

Caught off-guard the first time, I scrambled for any tools, flares and the EPIRB. As they came near I realised it was a different boat, yet still a fishing boat from Venezuela. We had the same “Guyana … Venezuela” exchange and I only understood the repeated “loca, loca, loca”.

Although I hadn’t seen humans in over two months, they seemed much more interested in me than I was in them. One man was either having a heart attack or trying to flirt with me by pounding on his heart.

They think I’m the crazy one?!

[Katie is having difficulty with the connection between her laptop and satellite phone, so I've had to transcribe this from a voicemail message. That also explains the photo being an old one. I'm a little concerned she might kill me when she sees which one I've used. Ah well, I'm feeling brave!]

I first became aware of Katie and her adventure through a newspaper article in the Cleveland Plain Dealer in February 2008. She was still in college and in the early stages of dreaming and planning the adventure that has now become a reality. As someone who has spent a professional lifetime helping high-level athletes mentally prepare for challenging performance situations, I thought that I might have something to offer Katie. I emailed her immediately and volunteered my services. Much to my delight, Katie responded quickly and accepted my offer. She was still in college and planning to graduate in June. We agreed to meet and start working together upon graduation and her return to Ohio. And so I began working with Katie in June of 2008 and met with her regularly right up to her departure for Dakar in December 2009.

One of the big challenges was how to mentally prepare for such a colossal event, 2-3 months at sea, 2500 miles, and an infinite number of internal and external challenges.

Question: How do you eat an elephant?

Answer: Same as you eat a hamburger or anything else . . . . one bite at a time.

Thus Katie and I, after a period of time, divided her colossal adventure into a sequence of six major phases:

• leaving Ohio, getting Katie and “Liv” to Dakar, ending with departure from Dakar
• first few days out at sea, adjusting to sea environment
• middle voyage, the longest phase
• landing in South America
• returning home to Ohio
• adjusting to post-adventure life

For each phase we discussed the challenges as well as Katie’s resources to meet the challenges. We also talked about what was most likely to happen as well as what could go wrong and how to deal with it.

Katie also volunteered to do some psychological research while on her voyage. Every few days she is completing a short questionnaire regarding her thoughts and needs at that particular time. When the adventure is over, she and I will analyze the data and plan to make the findings available to others.

It has been a pleasure working with and getting to know Katie. She’s an outstanding person who provides inspiration to many others. Shortly after I began working with her, I came across a brief quote that explained my motivation in working with her and perhaps your interest in the venture as well:

“It is those with the boldest dreams who awaken the best in all of us.”

Row, Katie, row!

Jack J. Lesyk, Ph.D., CC-AASP
Director, Ohio Center for sport Psychology
Beachwood, OH

I set off from Dakar on January 3 to complete a solo, unsupported, mainland-to-mainland row across the Atlantic Ocean. That’s still what I intend to do and I’m going to do whatever I can to achieve it. Even if that means rowing an extra 400 miles!

Some of you may have noticed that I’ve started to row a little further north over the last few days. The reason behind this is that I am longer aiming for Cayenne, French Guiana; I’m going to Georgetown in Guyana.

Rowing into Cayenne is very difficult unless the weather is very calm. Because of the current coming up the South American coast, the waves coming from the north and the wind coming from the east, the sea becomes very messy unless there is almost no wind. At the moment, the wind is about 20kt – that doesn’t count as “no wind”! I’ve been told that, with the weather and the sea like it is now, I’d almost certainly need a tow for the last few miles into port to avoid certain death. Well … I want to row all the way and, having been out here for over 2 months, what’s another 2 weeks between friends?

Although the route to Cayenne is shorter and will end my journey sooner, by diverting my route to the north and continuing a track to Georgetown, the seas should be less aggressive and, weather permitting, my hope is that it will allow me to conclude my journey as I have conducted it: solo!

[This has been written by Sam, but after being told what to say by Katie over the phone!]

Behind door number one is … Holsatia Express. Door number two … Omega Emmanuel. And number three … Jose Breeze. I have officially entered tanker territory! With larger waves around 7 to 10ft, it makes for a slightly unnerving experience. My boat can easy tuck away so that I am barely visible. Even with the technology on board for communicating and viewing other boats (AIS/VHF/GPS), it still ranks high on the “Why ocean rowing is frightening” list. I would have a greater survival rate wrestling a shark than being in front of a freighter.

I think I’ll be sleeping with one eye open until I reach land!

I may or may not have named a few of the dorados that have been following under my boat — Ed, Edd, and Eddie. Today was not a good day for Edd.

As I started to dig around in the hatches for my next meal, I noticed a hungry visitor or two: dolphins. Not as playful as some of the other dolphins I have seen at sea, these were certainly interested in Ed, Edd, and Eddie. So the dolphins circled around my boat and one dolphin emerged minutes later with a dorado in its mouth. I certainly wasn’t going to interject their mission. They were quite possibly the largest dolphins I have seen, longer than my boat and I wouldn’t be surprised if they weighed as much too, especially the way one seemed to inhale a twenty pound fish.

Ten minutes later after they swam off, about seven more dolphins came for dessert. Some swam so close to my boat that I could have easily touched them. Ten minutes more and they were gone and the dorados back doing their belly-flop style splashes. Perhaps it was Ed and Eddie doing a little victory dance (or splash) for out swimming those dolphins.

RIP Edd.

Lots of long, dramatic “Noooooo!”s, mixed in with a few “Why?!!!”s, just for kicks, today. There it was, a few miles away: a chat with a human being. Or a poker game. Or maybe a little bartering of energy bars for anything but. I’m not really sure what the appropriate mid-ocean etiquette is, but anything to break the six hours of rowing ahead would have been very welcomed.

This afternoon, I saw my first sailboat on the journey. Unfortunately, after several failed attempts to contact the boat on my VHF radio, I watched it disappear like a passing cloud.

Maybe it is for the best. It might leave me with a smidgen of jealousy to watch as the wind propels it effortlessly on its journey, as I inch my way pulling at the oars. So, for now, it’s just me and the dorados.

Another late night entertaining guests. Noisy and messy ones. They flew by a bit after sunset, fought over a perching spot, and turned my boat into their nest for the night. It’s nice to meet these birds up close and personal. One picked a spot less than six inches away from me while I was rowing, clearly displaying no fear for humans. These late night visits have been more frequent and have proven my theory that it is simply not possible to sleep on this boat!

With less than two weeks until landfall, I have been kicking it up a notch and had my best week yet, one day rowing over 60 miles. Not sure if I am “zoning in” or “zoning out”, but I have certainly found a zone where I can just row and row and row. But I am still making time at the end of the day for the beautiful sunsets. Today, there were tons of dorados jumping out of the water after the sunset. Every thirty seconds or so, I would see one, sometimes several, emerge from the water and make a huge splash. Not very gracefully though; they jump several feet from the water and land right on their side, almost like a big belly-flop. They are big fish too, so I hear their splashing all the time. Actually, just heard some splashing now!

We are so thrilled at the response that Katie Spotz has generated and the awareness that it is building for the global water crisis. We at Blue Planet Run have known ever since we met Katie that she was a unique, powerful, focused woman who set impossible goals and met them. Katie has been a great supporter of Blue Planet Run and believes passionately in our mission to bring sustainable, safe drinking water to people in need as their first step up on the ladder out of poverty. Let me share some great stories:

Several people have contacted us since Katie’s launch saying that they, too, wanted to undertake an athletic challenge to raise funds for our safe drinking water projects. A college student in Oklahoma already has biked 600 miles for water because of Katie. A woman is planning to bike across the country for water this summer because Katie inspired her. Many younger students have written to us saying that they’re starting lemonade stands and school fundraisers for our water projects because they think Katie is “cool” and they want to do something great, just like her. A woman in California, after hearing Katie interviewed, asked if we could set up a donation page for her to send to her wedding guests so they could contribute to our water projects.

We are spreading the word about Katie as she continues her journey. People comment that they love reading her blog and feel like they are out in the midst of the ocean with her! We even highlighted Katie’s voyage a few weeks ago when we sent out a Valentine’s email to our community!

Perhaps most special, our partners at Pure Water For The World, who will implement one of the projects in Haiti that Katie is raising money for, have told us that it is so important, during this time of devastation in Haiti, for their staff and the people they help to know there is someone working day and night for them. They call Katie their “shining star”. Let her star keep shining and having the tremendous popular impact that it is.

Lisa Nash
Blue Planet Run