During this time I had not seen the sun once; therefore, my solar panels were not performing as well as they should have been. Everything electrical had to be switched off so that the tracking device would not fail. My desalinator demanded too much power, so I had to start rationing my water.

One hundred miles from the halfway point, after a good days' paddle, I undressed (as I did after every paddle) in preparation for getting into the cabin. I lifted the hatch to find that the right hinge had broken. This had been the only imaginable scenario that would have the dire consequence of putting an end to the expedition!

I could not believe my luck; yet again my crossing was to fail due to a 'technical' problem. All I could do was to scream out and cry. My mind swam with thoughts of my hard effort of four years of planning, my expenditures, and the media having a 'field day' at my expense. They were waiting for any hint of failure to justify their negative attitude at the start.

I contacted Jim by satellite phone. I could not get hold of him, so I left a message on his answer machine telling him that it was all over. I called Jim back later about five minutes after I had calmed down, and suggested a possible solution: call for aid from a ship to help me replace the hatch. Jim told me he needed a couple of hours to try to sort something out. In the meantime, I was to get in the cabin and secure the hatch as best I could to prevent the sea from coming in. Calling Jim back, as he was unable to call me, he informed me there would be an engineer from the design firm on stand-by in the morning and to recall what equipment I had onboard for a possible repair. He also suggested we pray for calm seas.