They've done it! They crossed the line at around midnight Bajan time, 7 Feb 2011. What a day it's going to be and it has started very early for me. I woke at 4am to a massive tropical storm and am still wide awake, knowing it's not time to get up yet and knowing this morning I will be reunited with my lovely Robert "Bertie" Portal. I simply can't wait.
I have found the missing Bert bit easy and admit that I've enjoyed being able to watch the telly I want to watch, eaten when and what I like and generally be a slob. Except that I haven't had a chance to be a slob as every day there has been masses to do. There was me thinking that once they rowed off into the Atlantic my life would go back to normal with extra time to spare. I imagined I would catch up with old friends; go away for weekends, hop across to Paris on the Eurostar to spend time with my sister, but oh how wrong I was - the furthest I got away to was Fulham at New Year! I never thought for a minute I'd be so busy and never with one particular thing; I have done nothing but juggle what feels like 10 things at once at all times.
Of course I am busy with the children and their lives and I have Bert's very cats to look after, and then there's Humphrey who, for those of you who don't know, is Bert's tortoise and is currently hibernating in his own personal wine cooler in a cupboard at the constant temperature of seven degrees Centigrade. Humphrey has in fact slept constantly from the end of October and will not get up until March (lucky Humphrey) and if you ever want a surprisingly entertaining (no joke) but extremely low maintenance pet, a tortoise is for you.
Then there were all the phone calls, the emails, the texts and just the general interest that this incredible adventure has generated from friends and family. A lot of the time, Anna and I protected people from what was really going on out there and just quietly did the worrying for them.
We ran the Facebook and Twitter sites which meant that we had to choose our words wisely so as not to cause too much concern but equally give enough of the story. We wrote letters and sent photographs to anyone who was interested. We spoke daily to the land crew who are a wonderful bunch of highly experienced sailors/rowers/ex-marines/Royal Navy/Army who have been advising the boys on weather conditions and navigation along with keeping morale up when things got very bad at sea - and believe me they did. The daily uncertainty was the thing that really got to me whilst Bert was away and although I was generally OK, sometimes it would sneak up on me and I would find myself crying over the washing up or some such other menial task.
So now it's over and we're in Barbados and in exactly one hours' time I will be getting a taxi down to the Yacht Club at Port St. Charles to welcome them in. I am blown away, speechless at the thought and will try very hard to take mental notes so it's etched on my brain forever. What an adventure. So many words, so little to say.