Ocean Calling - Linda ror Atlanteren

21/04/2024

Se på meg.

Dette er deler av en nyhetssak/artikkel fra nettavisa Frøya.no for noen dager siden. I denne saken melder de at Linda Evenstad Emilsen er en av fire nominerte til Årets navn under Frøyawards 2023.

Avstemminga foregår i disse dager på avisas hjemmeside. Hvem som blir kåra til årets navn, blir offentliggjort 30. april.

Jeg er kanskje ikke den som hopper i taket og jubler for slik oppmerksomhet. Jeg mer som bare registrerer det, og tenker først litt sånn "Å ja. Jaja."

Ved første øyekast kan det derfor kanskje virke som at jeg er uberørt, men tvertom er jeg ganske så berørt.

At noen fra et sted jeg er så glad i, har tatt seg bryet med å tenke mitt navn kunne være en passende representant for en lokal pris, rører ved noe fundamentalt i meg. Det handler om tilhørighet og anerkjennelse.

Tilhørighet til ytterdistriktene, kysten, kystkulturen, og sjøen. For en som drømmer om å bli en ramsalt sjøulk, treffer dette midt i hjertet. Anerkjennelse betyr mest når den kommer fra noen nært.

Jeg synes også på mitt vis at nominasjonen er en anerkjennelse til de krefter som er lagt ned lokalt særlig i Nærøysund og øyregionen Frøya/Hitra for å bidra til å realisere dette roprosjektet. For, roturen ble en realitet som en følge av andre menneskers engasjement: sponsorer, familie, venner, kolleger, bekjente, ukjente, både lokalt, nasjonalt, internasjonalt. Det kan ikke understrekes for ofte, uten at jeg skal gjøre dette til en tåredryppende tale.

Men jeg synes virkelig dette var en veldig, veldig fin, varmende, og overraskende overraskelse. Tusen, tusen takk til den/de det gjelder.

Et hjertelig ut fra Linda - sjøulk in the making.
no .no

25/12/2023

Looking back looking ahead.

I figure Christmas day is a good day to whisper “Im still alive”. Social media doesn`t fall all easily for me. So I have been quiet. I might go radio silence after this post too. That is likely, but we`ll see.

However, approaching Christmas has made me think back to the row. Spending last Christmas out at sea by myself, was wonderful. Joyful. Peaceful. Fun. I was throughout happy. I add a crappy photo of me opening presents on Christmas eve. It was so cosy, but Im not sure the picture does the experience justice, haha.

The evening after this photo is taken, I will be laying in my cabin in a wild sea state. The following 5 days I will be on and off paraanchor. During these days I will capsize, get knockdowns, break an oar and have a small fire in my electrical system to mention some.

Externally, all this was kinda dramatic. But the dramatic thing was really on Christmas day realising none of my satcoms were working leaving me no other means of communication than VHF (that only transmits with a ratio of a few nm).

I did manage to get the BGAN working again some days later, but laying in my cabin Christmas day I did not know that. I was therefore preparing myself to be completely without communication and support for the rest of the row, which I at that point in time estimated to be about 60-70 days (oh, how wrong I was about that). And I knew from the previous forecast that a big storm was about to hit me.

And here I am now, one year later, at home in Vikna, looking out at the flat sea, with some of my loved ones, consuming fresh, delicious hot food. The distance to last year is obscure in many ways. But in that distance lays balance, and I am forever grateful for being able to and allowed to explore both extremes.

My no1 take home message from both Christmas times in general and the row is just that: Gratitude. For people, creatures, the nature.

With that I end this nostalgic post where the purpose really was to have an excuse to say: Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all you who supported the row. I will never ever forget the warm support, and I wish you all the best.

Lots of sea and salt to all of you.

Out.

14/05/2023

Words.
And a random picture from home.

Usually, I am full of words. But since being back home, I have experienced the impossible: I lack words. I want to say something about that and some other changes.

I have this feeling that no words are meaningful enough. But also that what I should be saying dont have words. Kinda. Surprisingly enough, this is a good feeling.

I also notice I am calmer on the inside. Im kinda in my own bubble still. I haven`t decided if thats good or bad yet.

I also focus more on the things that are most important to me, and I put it into action more easily. Not necessarily big things, but still.

My feelings and thoughts for the row are though still in line of "neh, it was just a thing I did". One of the other rowers expressed it very clearly, I think: Finishing the row is more like ending a phase in ones life rather than an achievement.

Perhaps that`s partly why I may feel awkward talking about the row? Because I do often try to avoid the topic - I feel so self-centered.

At the same time, I want to tell about the wonderful things that happened - it truly was an amazing experience. I should want to share that with others!

Also, being at sea is my only reference for the last four months,making it hard not to refer to the row in one way or the other. But, yeah, it is strange talking about it.

Still, the most striking change in me, is to what extreme extent I feel gratitude. All what I have experienced... It really makes me feel like... I dont know, perhaps it makes me feel very small, small in the right way.

This gratitude makes my words superfluous. Theres nothing to say,kinda, because this feeling goes far beyond anything I am able to express. Ah, it sounds so cheesy, but it is so true for me.

Despite being grateful, I am not content - stronger than ever before do I feel the obligation to try to act upon what I know: I need, should and am able to do something to take better care of the oceans, the nature and people around me. I can do something! I know that.

And this is someting I know I am obligated to make last. Therefore I write it here - to myself.

Still, thank YOU for reading. It truly, truly means tons.

Out.

08/04/2023

Antigua.

As you probably know, we reached Antigua. Yes, we reached Antigua. It is true.

We were slow. 113 days 4 hours and 50 minutes slow. Still we made it.

It is pretty surreal thinking of the enormous area of water I have crossed together with Brugda. I dont really understand it. At the same time I do get it also. It is a mix of understanding and not understanding.

That also describes my feelings: I dont feel much, at least not any pride or sense of achievement, accomplishment or anything similar. This is just something I have done. Its just a thing. I dont mean to be arrogant. But this is how it feels. Perhaps it will change with time.

At the same time, I am so, so, so grateful.

All what I have learned, seen, heard, experienced, felt... It is incredible, and I cant believe I am the one writing this post. I am beyond lucky.

And I am so incredibly grateful for all of those who have been cheering Brugda and me along. You did this with us. This never felt like a solo row. Thank you all who took part in this adventure.

That includes my wonderful, supportive sponsors. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for all the trust and support. Without you... I say no more.

I am also tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally. Tired beyond tired. But I get better day by day. It will though take some time before I am back to normal. Whatever normal is.

I dont even know if normal is a goal anymore. Things have changed. I am changed.

One change: I now know I can row an ocean. That is a big change. Everything is possible, it seems like.That is not something I am feeling, and I dont need to feel it. I just know it. I have experienced it.

Now the after play is on. I will try to tell a bit also about the life after such an experience, for those who are interested, but not now. Now I am entering my last day in Antigua before heading back to my family and friends in Norway. This row is not over untill I get a hug from my grandmother again. I cant wait.

But for now: A huge, warm and sincere thank you to all of you.

We made it.

Out.

https://fb.watch/jNIYtgQzh3/

04/04/2023

Here is the link to Linda's race finish livestream - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYkC747arWU, we expect to go live between 11:30 - 12:30 local time

▶️ TWAC 2022 RACE FINISH LIVESTREAM - Ocean CallingJoin us to watch our final arrival - Linda Evenstad Emilsen - Ocean Calling cross the finish line LIVE in ...

28/03/2023

OPPDATERT! Estimert tid for Linda er nå satt til 4. april, men følg også med på appen - det kan endre seg. Virgin Atlantic har jeg fått anbefalt fra arrangørene, men sjekk også andre ruter fra bla British Airways. Det er få avganger på Virgin Atlantic.

26/03/2023

Innlegg delt av Vibeke: Linda skriver seg inn i historien💪🏻💙

I tre måneder har Linda Evenstad Emilsen rodd og rodd alene over Atlanteren og nå er hun "bare" 770 km fra mål. I kjølevannet ligger det 4.030 kilometer med slit som nå er tilbakelagt.

21/03/2023

Alone.

So, the three month mark is here. Three months alone.

The time out here have made me contemplate quite a bit around just that, being alone.

I am alone all the time. If I want to communicate with anyone, there is no immediate way of doing that. I would first have to take out the coms gear, make sure it is safe to use and not exposed to sea water and water in general. I have to find a good position, a position it is possible to maintain despite everything moving around, and then I have to search around for the satelite and make the connection between the satelite device and my Phone. Then I have to wait for the connection to be made, and finally after quite a few minutes I can try to send some messages through.

Sometimes its easier and takes less time than others. Thats always a nice treat.

Often, however, the device get some kind of hickup needing a restart, or perhaps my Phone dont work properly.

When I finally reach the level where I can start communicating, it is mostly through writing I communicate. That is usually the easiest.

Writing everything I want to communicate is sometimes a hustle. It takes time and it often gives a feeling of little immediateness. So, communicating is work. Nice work, and a luxury, but work.

Another thing with communicating out here is that it actually takes time away from other things, mostly rowing or resting.

Due to this, I have not been communicating all that much. As I learn to use the gear better and as conditions are calmer, I am though using it more as it goes quicker.

When communicating takes this much effort and I do it as little as I do, I get a proper sense of isolation.

Isolation for me is not particularly hard most of the time. That is an incredible insight. But I do at the same time, and more and more, miss easy, perhaps almost meaningless communication with other people. There is a chime of emptiness lurking in my chest.

It is most evident in the mornings, and usually fades by 17 oclock, I have noticed. It may be strong, other times it is weak, sometimes it is not there at all.

This feeling and this situation is very temporarily for me, and I know it for sure will end. I am also in an extreme, fantastic and amazing environment. And I have chosen this entirily myself. In addition I have chosen it partly to exper just these kinds of emotions - emotions only brought by because of the extreme in my situation.

When noticing these feelings and thoughts it makes me think about how lucky I am. When I step onto land again, I step right into an enormous pile of love, care and attention. I am in temporary isolation, and not even complete isolation as I have satelite coms.

There are though so many who live in isolation not knowing if and when it will end. People who are sick, old, afraid etc. Isolated in their own homes, having to rely on others for interaction and communication. People who might live with this sore emptiness day out day in. Perhaps they are lonely even.

My own adventure has made me more aware of the effects of isolation. And it truly makes me like truly, properly, sincerely feel wholehearted lucky for my life and people.

Also out here I get so, so much support. There are so many people caring and showing engagement.

I have said it before, but say it again: I have never felt less alone than during this adventure. Thank you everyone. Thank you, thank you, thank you. All your engagement has really envoked in me both thoughts and feelings for humans that are just, yeah... I am so very grateful.

My adventure has also made it very apparent to me that I need and want to take more care of people around me, pay more attention, visit those I think about visiting, not in pitty, but because I always wanted to but did not make it a priority. And in general I want to show more that I care for those around me. This adventure has made that becoming a need.

I say this because in my everyday life I live all over the place, rush here and there, and I know my priorities arent what they should be. I knew that before stepping into Brugda too, but after this time just having my own mind and Brugdas imaginary mind as my immediate company, it is something it feels impossible to not act upon.

This adventure is changing me. It do give me some simple but true insights. These insights will probably be very easy to ignore when I get back to my daily life. And just that is the reason for me writing these post about it. I dont want to ignore it. This is me showcasing to myself one of the most important things to me: taking care of people.

So, yeah, now you have read a long post not saying much about the exterior of this adventure. Its not an update in a strict sense, but I do try to convey some of the changes that happen on the inside, perhaps a bit minute, but still.

Yeah, commitment to caring. People, animals, oceans and environment.

I feel it so strongly. I understand that that is because I live in my own world out here, that it is different when on land. But, still, it is true. Hm.

Ok, I stop there. I am now just saying the same banale things over and over again.

But, yeah, people. You people. Thank you for caring about me and Brugda and our little travel across a pond.

Out.

14/03/2023

Belonging.

You know the feeling when you come home to someone and their whole home makes you feel at ease.

Here you can find drinks in the fridge yourself, the bathroom can be dirty, the dishes not washed and, yeah, everything is ok even with you as a guest there.

Such homes can feel even more home than one owns home sometimes, I think. You are a visitor, but still you have a natural, non-permanent belonging there.

If you guess I am describing how it feels for me to be out in open sea, you are most certainly right.

Coming out here... The sea doesnt dress up, act cool or anything like that. Neither is it hostile, rude or in some sort of fight with me.

I have been tossed around, not having optimal conditions, struggled, but it is not like I am trying to conquer the sea, or that it is me against the sea.

If I totally personificates the feeling of the sea I get out here, it is just that it says: "Welcome! Make yourself at home! I am busy with all mine, but stay as long as you want." That is a very comfortable place to be in.

But I am a visitor. And as a visitor I try to leave no trace. Therefore I take with me all I bring with that is not very biodegradable, meaning I bring every piece of trash, no matter how small or insignificant it seems, with me back to land. In the one picture you then can see my trash for one week.

A specific part of this row project, and one of the reasons for it being named Ocean Calling, also concerns pollution of our oceans. The oceans are calling for action.

During my crossing I am therefore trying to document things that dont belong out here. What do I see? What can I show you?

Well, first I need to say I see more than I am able to show you. Documenting anything outhere with a camera is hard, and much of the garbage move so fast or is so small I am not able to photograph it.

But I can tell you about it. I havent seen too much yet. Parts of me feel a relieff for that, but as I know there are huge amounts around us in the sea, I also know that that relieff is just about me not having to stand face to face with the challenge marine garbage is.

For the first half I saw pieces of garbage three times, that includes the plastic bottle I am hold in the one pict. The further South and West I come, the more frequent do I observe trash though. Now it is several times a week.

All the garbage I have seen, are plastic trash or made up of mostly plastic, and it has been just one piece of trash at the time.

When I see garbage, it really stands out. It is so obvious that it doesnt belong out here. It looks very odd, and everytime I struggle grasping what it actually is even when it is very easy to identify.

The space out here is so enormous, and I get that sensation everyday. Then to have a single piece of trash actually cross my path like that... It is tiny and me and Brugda is tiny. It is very strange.

I have learned that these pieces of trash that I see, easily travels vast areas and for months, and it could even end up into my own playground outside Vikna or Frøya in Norway. It could even end up being part of the garbage Mausund feltstasjon, the organisation whos work I want to promote, clean up along the coast of Frøya. That is a crazy but true thought.

All garbage I manage to document and pick up, I will bring with me to Mausund feltstasjon in case there could be some use for it. Perhaps we can find out where some of the trash comes from?

I have added some photos of garbage I have seen so far. I guess there is more to come.

For me, being out here truly envokes a strong feeling of responsibility I as an individual have for our oceans, for its inhabitants, for cleaning and for limiting pollution. I do not know what to do, but as usual, my first thought is I need to learn more.

Some of the sources I have found are https://www.regjeringen.no/no/tema/klima-og-miljo/forurensning/innsiktsartikler-forurensning/marin-forsopling-og-mikroplast/id2339872/?expand=factbox2829947

https://www.hi.no/hi/temasider/hav-og-kyst/plastsoppel-i-havet

https://holdnorgerent.no/

https://miljostatus.miljodirektoratet.no/tema/avfall/forsopling-av-havet/

And of course the webpage to Mausund feltstasjon: https://www.eider.no/

If you have some relevant links or places with updated and reliable information, please feel free to add it as a comment or in a message. I will appreciate it.

Thats all from us for now. Untill next update, take care, and take care of your garbage.

A caring out from Linda and Brugda.

07/03/2023

Under the surface.

Since the last update, stuff has been going on and especially underneath the surface.

We have crossed the magical less than 1000nm left to Antigua - juhuu! And now actually less than 900nm. Three digits.

That is so strange. And I have reached kinda new level of the understanding of how big this ocean is, how small we are, and... I allow myself to say it: how crazy and incredible it is to actually ROW this ocean. The kinda achievement this is I hits me sometimes. And I cant believe I am the one doing this. Ah, sorry for saying so, but these insights are really eyeopening. I do not see myself as someone able to do what I have done. Yet, here I am. I can more than I assume. It is often so, isnt it?

I notice we are getting further South and West by the heat. Some days it is like the sun is frying me. As a solo I do my sleep during night, so I dont have to spend time in the cabin during daytime. That is good, because in there it is boiling! My water stored in there is like warmer than body temperature.

I am not bothered by the heat noticably. I just row and drink extra water (a lot! Like 6-12 liters a day!).

We have had quite a few days now with very little wind. It is nice not having all the movement in the boat, but it also means less speed. And extra hard work just to get moving.

In addition we have had non-beneficial currents. Some currents would run 1.7 knts in the wrong direction. We have therefore not made much ground these days, but still we have worked probably harder to get those few miles we have wun and keep the ground than what a big 40nm day would need. These days really demands dicipline, I think. And it is so satisfying know I have that needed dicipline. I am proud of that. And I allow myself to say that here. I hope its not too... Yeah, something.

Anyway, when looking at YB, know that the numbers doesnt represent the workload neccessarily. But you all know that by now.

One major underneath the surface thing that has happened, is that we got a visit from a marlin!!! It was so, so cool! The yellow tailed tunas hid underneath my boat while the marlin circled my boat. It was so big! When I get time, I will show a video of it.

And for almost two days we have had a whale visiting. That is so so so nice and special.

Talking about visit: Yesterday was a special day. For the first time in ages I was less than 1m from another human. My brain started a huge party up there just because it again - finally - had some facial expressions to process. The visit was also a very special one, one that is so relieving: It was Manfred, the captein of SY Skye, and he came with my new food. Food. Snacks. Biscuits. Nuts. Oats. Milk powder. Chocolate. Wine gum. Crisps. Coffee. And ten bottles of coke for celebrating special occasions.

I went bananas. I ate so much. Drank both coffee and coke. And had the time of my life getting high on sugar and coffein. And on relief.

Now there is no doubt: Antigua next.

Thank you so much for your logistical and financial support, Team Williksen and Williksen Fangst AS.

And thank you so so much, my two lighthouses and my greatest supporters, Vibeke og Viktoria, for making this happen

I am grateful beyond words.

We have now passed 80 days at sea, more to come. But the finish line is there ahead of us. That is nice - that it is ahead of us, that we still have time. But also just that it is there. Knowing where the end is, especially when it do get tough, is, yeah, relieving.

So, a very happy update in many ways. Now its back to the oars and some more time with Brugda.

Thank you all for your support and engagement - I have never felt less alone than during this journey. Thank you so so much.

A caring and loving out from Ocean Calling getting more and more miles under the hull.