The wind finally calmed down enough so I could launch my drone.

This is probably the most remote place I’ve stopped so far on my solo voyage to 7 continents (6 now done), as least in terms of being far from other populated places. Deception Island in Antarctica is another candidate but there were cruise ships coming and going nearly every day during the week I was there so it didn’t feel so remote.

While anchored here I was reminded of what I wrote in the Epilogue of my 2015 book “Flying 7 Continents Solo”:

“There is always the appeal of a faraway place, the rarely-visited, remote, little-known mystery circumstance.  I was recently in Barrow, Alaska, where a small community college had been built catering to “outlying” villages.  Outlying? I thought Barrow was outlying. The lines of civilization, of human activity, get increasingly stretched, ultimately broken, moving beyond the last signpost, the end of the road, the hesitant smile, the final conversation. Further. Passed the last trail, the disappearing footprints, the lonely, windy mountaintop where recognition is a memory. Further still. Beyond process and reason, merging here and there, blurring yesterday and tomorrow, until finally arriving at a last thin space between the shadow and the silence.”

I probably shouldn’t be sitting under a tree with hanging coconuts.  Someone told me more people are killed each year by coconuts falling on their heads than by shark attacks. It would be really ironic to have sailed this far only to be clunked on the head by a coconut but, as Paul Gauguin once said, “Irony is only a coconut away”