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| Brett Sparrow and Scott Wonenberg | |
| "Against All Odds". | |
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IN THE BEGINNING... |
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A request was made by Kenneth Crutchlow of the Ocean Rowing Society, to explain why we did not manage to enter the race. I find this a difficult task as many names that could be mentioned here are so well known in the rowing circles. Some were a stumbling block to us and cost us money, money which we did not have, and time in chasing after them after many promises were made. I do not believe that by telling everything will shed any positive light on this rich experience. So those names will be omitted and I will only mention some of our struggle out of respect to the rowers who went through their own share, but were better than us in their campaigns as they did get their entrance fee for the race. We take our hats off to you for achieving this where we failed. There were also many ocean rowers and affiliates that gave us so much help just before the start and after completing the crossing. This is something we did not expect but we truly appreciate their help. We treasure those friendships we made. I guess it all began on the 2nd March 2003. I was waiting for my yachting courses to begin in a couple days time, living with a cousin in South Africa. I received an e-mail from Scott. It was pretty brief and said simply, “Do you want to row the Atlantic Ocean with me?” How could I possible say no? In 2001, Scott and I had done a circumnavigation of Lake Kariba. This is still one of the ten largest man made lakes in the world. It took us 23 days to complete the 800km trip although we were not going for any records, even though we did it in a 3 meter dinghy, (probably smallest dinghy to do the lake) . I immediately wrote back and said I would definitely do the crossing. At this stage I knew nothing of Ocean Rowing/ crossings. If it was possible though, we could do it. I completed my training in sea survival, fire fighting, rescue, and first aid (prerequisites for anyone working on commercial vessels), applied for a Spanish visa, bought a ticket to Tenerife (where Scott was living), and arrived there on the 30th of April only a week after Scott and Marife’s wedding. My first step was taken into the world of Ocean Rowing and the mission had begun. We did not know much about sponsorship or had the financial backing to do it on our own finances but had a boat in Tenerife and the desire to do it. The rest we would get along the way. Or so we thought...We put our heads together and came up with a plan. If we were to follow Christopher Columbus’s route to the Americas it was a good idea to row for Spain, seeing as they were also the sponsors of his epic journey into the new world back in 1593. We thought companies would queue up to put their name on our boat. Scott had already negotiated to use “Martha dos” the boat owned by some local residents of the Island and Spanish rowers in the 2001 Challenge race. We hauled the boat out of the water to find that she had soaked up salt water into her wooden hull like a sieve. This was the first time she had been out of the water since that race, almost two years previously. There was a lot of water damage and we realised that we would have to spend a lot of money repairing her on top of a very high rental price. Money we did not have. But we believed we could get. The sponsor search had already begun, not only in Spain but also worldwide with our other contacts. Slowly it dawned on us that this was no easy feat. I will not bore you with our misfortunes but after a couple months the boat was removed from our work site and taken to some boat builder where it remains still today collecting dust. We were shattered. It had been months of work wasted and still not a cent towards our project in the coffers. Scott had to work as well as help in repairing the boat. He had to bring some money home to live on. I managed to find some crewing work on an excursion whale and dolphin watching catamaran to help with our worrying financial problems. My Spanish visa was about to expire so tried to extend it with the local authorities. They informed me that I would have to fly back to South Africa to reapply from there. This was a further stumbling block as a ticket would cost a thousand euros and I would be away for at least a month. There was however no way around it so I flew off to Africa, only returning in August. I was met by Scott and a local couple we had met recently. They told us that they could not afford to sponsor us for the race but would give us accommodation at their home and allow us full use of their office in the north of the island. This was great news as at least we could continue our search for a boat and sponsors without digging deeper into our own finances. I moved in with Harm and Vicky and spent the next 60+days and nights in front of a computer surfing the accumulated consciousness; the internet, sending letters to companies, individuals and friends. Scott stayed with his wife Marife in the south speaking to various companies there. Finally we started to make positive ground. I found a boat through Kenneth and set up a meeting with the owner on one of his visits to La Gomera. He said he had an unused boat and was willing to let me use it. He suggested that I fly to England to assess what I needed from there and to put it on a ship to Canary Islands. This I did using the last of my own money confident that if we had a boat the rest would come. After meeting up with the owner and viewing his boat, he gave me some excuse to delay my taking it and then disappeared with no further contact. Calls were not answered and emails not replied. I flew back to Tenerife with nothing to show from my journey it except empty pockets. We were pretty broken. But Scott had made some progress with a local company who promised us the entrance fee to the race and all major costs of our trip. All we needed now was a boat. The search went on… Mid November I received an e-mail from Kenneth saying we had a boat. I could not contain my excitement even though I was afraid to believe it and get my hopes up again. I called him up and he informed me that Peter Moore had offered his boat, “Carphone Wharehouse”. He had raced in it in the 2001 race and then had “rented” it out to a couple of lads who attempted to cross the Indian Ocean. For whatever reason they threw in the towel after a couple weeks and sent out a mayday. The Australian Navy was redirected to pick them up. Quite a battle must have raged on between the newly named “Transventure” row boat and the destroyer navy vessel. The little rowing boat was severely damaged. Anyways, Peter was having a hard time getting the renters to do the repairs so Kenneth got a hold of him and told how desperate we were for a boat. I phoned Peter up immediately and we struck a deal that we would repair the boat at our expense and get it back to him in a sea worthy condition in exchange for the use of his boat for the race. We knew it was damaged but at least our prayers had been answered. We could get the vessel ready in time with a bit of sweat and determination. It is funny how things work out. |
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The rowing boat was
put on the ship in Felixstowe and landed in Santa Cruz de Tenerife
in December 2003 It took a further 2 weeks to get it cleared from
the port authorities and arrived in the small dry-docks of Porto
Colon mid December. Both Scott and I were refurbishing the hull of a
sport fishing vessel at the time and stood perplexed as it rolled
in. All work stopped and everyone gathered round the sorry sight.
The canary locals stood in small groups chattering to each other of
the state of this poor rowing boat. All of them knew of what hassles
we had been through in getting it. A few of the weathered boat
builders commented saying that the boat would never float again.
Scott and I were beaming from ear to ear after the initial shock.
Our boat was finally here! It mattered not of her present condition. |
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First things first we did a photo shoot of all the damage so we had records and then it was onto cleaning her out and taking stock of everything on board. It was a mess. Water filled the bilges and there was an assortment of floating and sunken debris. The water maker was at the bottom of brown putrid water. Two plates of rotten half eaten meals floated in the sunken in area of the cabin. We must have hauled out a whole oak tree of leaves from her. Rusted tools and accessories lay scattered everywhere. When we finally got her cleaned out and dry we could start on the repairs. The damaged sections were cut out so panels could be replaced. These we clued into place with resin using the ‘west system’. Although slower drying than normal resins, it finished stronger and harder. We then glued strips of fibre tape on all the seams to make the mend perfect. |
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There were no off days for us and even
Christmas day and new years was spent in the dry docks till late in
the evening. Early January she was spray painted and polished. We found a company who would make us stickers free of charge. We gave them a short list of the people and companies who had given us small items or helped us out in some way, but our main sponsor had still not paid us or the race entrance fee. Finally after pestering them for ages they threw down with a measly 500 euros. I cannot explain our mental fatigue by this stage but lucky for us we had gotten used to disappointments. We were also too distracted by getting everything ready for the crossing, to waste valuable time on the negative. |
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We had set our sights on doing the
row and if people helped or not, we would do it anyway. Some how,
things would work out. Even if we had to spend months after the
crossing paying it off. We pasted the last two stickers in the largest space we had saved for our main sponsor. In red letters spelt out, SAVE ZIMBABWE. If nothing else, we could at least get some exposure for the country we grew up in and taught us the values of hard work in achieving ones goals. |
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At 12 o’clock that day ‘Against All
Odds’ was finally lowered into the cool waters of the Atlantic
ocean. One could almost hear her sigh with pleasure. Scott and I
glowed with pride as we sat at our rowing stations floating high out
of the water. We could feel her stealth and desire to speed out the
harbour entrance and into the deep ocean. This was our desire too
but it was not time yet. She still needed stores and equipment
before we could satisfy both hers and our dream. It took a real
effort to turn her nose back into the harbour. During this time competitors of the race had been arriving and by now all were over at la Gomera. Kenneth had seen us a couple of times and was also racking his brain trying to figure some way for us to pay our entrance fee. We felt really bad for not being able to enter yet but were still chasing up the last of our potential sponsors. |
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Finally we got a call from Kenneth saying that he had spoken to the other competitors about our problems and many had agreed to help us out with food and whatever they had spare. It was in our best interest to get over to la Gomera as soon as possible. We packed the last of our things into ‘A.A.O.’ and rowed for the first time out of the small harbour of Porto Colon. It was 00hhrs in the morning and we estimated we should be at the port of San Sebastian at dawn. It was only 23 nautical miles but in that short distance we had to get used to how she rode the short uneven swell between the islands, sort out our rowing positions and rowing strokes, navigating by night with a hand held GPS, and all the other intricacies which should have been done months previously; if we had a boat. At dawn, as expected we found ourselves just short of the harbour. We were pretty worn out being not used to rowing. Muscles were sore and aching, stomach growling for food but otherwise quite satisfied with ourselves that we had made the crossing in a relatively acceptable time. Or so we thought. About three miles to go a head wind started blowing hard, pushing us out and south of our intended landfall. We drew up the last of our reserves to row hard for the shore. The closer we got the harder it blew, the harder we rowed. Soon we realised we would not make the harbour entrance and our priority changed from making the harbour to merely reaching the island before being swept away into the deep Atlantic. Off course we had asked Peter Raab with a speed boat to be on stand by in case of any trouble but this would be a very bad omen if after finally getting on the water, we were not able to make it this little distance. Something we feared would hound us for the entire expedition. After half the night and a full day of battling, we rowed into San Sebastian. The sun had just gone down and the wind seemed to die down completely. Most of the other competitors had taken a break from their chatting in a local bar to come see us arrive. We however were so tired we barely noticed them. All we wanted to do was eat and then sleep. |
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