The Australian surf boat evolved. The first real one that came—we have these old pictures of the Sly Brother of Manly. But they weren't real surf boats, they were fishing boats. The first real surf boat that came to Australia was designed on a Norwegian lifesaving boat.

I could not believe my luck! Ten days earlier I had a small glimmer of hope that Maiwar had landed on an isolated island, but this was solid evidence!

I was sitting on my bunk, looking out the hatch, and then, in a split second, my whole world was turned upside down. My view turned from blue sky to blue water, a huge crashing sound was heard, and Maiwar was capsized like a bath toy. There was no time for fear or even a communicable thought, it all happened so quickly.

As the day wore on the breakers grew closer. By early afternoon I had rounded the northeastern tip of the island and begun to make my way along the northern side. By about 1400hrs the first pang of fear came in. I was rowing along, just outside the reef, the land was oh so close, yet completely inaccessible.

Tom and his immediate family are not much into the modern fashion for instantaneous communication. They’d much rather mull over a suitable answer or wait for the best time to send it than have a Pavlovian reaction to incoming mail.

Rather than trying to go south of New Caledonia on his way to the Queensland coast, Tom has elected to stay further north. While the shore team was not sure about this decision, they were pleased when meteorological guru Bob McDavitt suggested to Tom that he stay north where he could expect to experience better winds and fewer adverse currents

The thought of rowing nonstop back to Australia looks very attractive at the moment, in which case, I can expect to make landfall in Australia in about 120 days, perhaps a little less. But, of course, this is all conjecture.

Apparently, American Samoa has more big pickup trucks per capita than anywhere else in the world - I don’t doubt it. The trucks and the law enforcement are the only obvious signs of colonisation, but reach in your pocket and you’ll find those green banknotes that say ‘In God We Trust’.

That night the tide rose and the swell that was breaking on the reef outside came right into the harbour, the beach disappeared and at eleven o’clock at night I was trying to kedge Maiwar away from the rock wall she was pounding against. I cried out in desperation and exhaustion.

Close to exhaustion after 3 days on the oars and with almost no sleep, Tom decided to shelter in Fagaitua Bay just a few miles east of the entrance to Pago Pago Harbour for a well earned rest. He then rowed the last 5 or so nautical miles to the port facilities at the head of Pago Pago Harbour.

How far this next leg will take Tom we do not know. He is 3,000 nautical miles from Brisbane (roughly 100 days away at his first leg speed of 1.24 knots), 1,500 nautical miles from Fiji (50 days) and 870 nautical miles from Samoa (30 days)

All day the village worked, unloading everything imaginable for a settlement. There were building materials, outboard motors, bicycles and motorbikes, freezers, mattresses, and sacks of rice, flour and sugar - the essentials.

Perhaps rowing is a metaphor. As we age we seem to spend more time looking back than looking forward, and we risk stagnation. If we don’t row we go nowhere.

I somehow knew, deep down, that the sculptor within had work to do, and that any luxury or convenience, anything impure or extraneous, was a hindrance and distraction.

The sun was my constant. It was regular, beautiful, immense. I started asking for help. “Why are you testing me?” “When will you make it better for me?” “Why are you challenging me like this?”

MAIWAR slipped quietly into the lagoon at Penrhyn Island At 5 pm on Friday 9 December 2022 local time. This marked the completion of the first leg of Tom’s Pacific crossing.

During last week’s phone call he very excitedly told us about two of his most recent reads. He’s awarded “Greatest Book Ever” to Small Is Beautiful by E.F. Schumacher and “Most Favourite Book” to Henry David Thoreau’s Walden or Life in the Woods.

SWS readers can hear a conversation from earlier this week with Tom Robinson, live from the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

It is clear that Tom is finding it challenging to make his way south to the latitude of Hiva Oa. In spite of the strong westerly-flowing current, the force of the south easterly trade winds is making it difficult to hold a course south of west.

Day 49: Ecuadorian tuna fishing ship sighted. They lowered speedboat, two men approached, ‘no English‘, pirates? Silence. They smiled, phew. I rubbed my belly. They nodded. Bully beef? Onions? Rice? I wish. Potato chips, Powerade and cigarettes instead!