One day that same year, I told my dad that someday, I would sail around the world alone.

There are a number of places on marine charts where even the most weathered sailors point and say, "Right there, nothing can go wrong. Everything has to go right." One place is the turbulent passage south of Cape Horn. Another is the dead center of the Indian Ocean.

I knew that even if I was able to call for help, I was in a place so remote that it wasn't likely there would be anyone who could help me. And even if there were, it could take weeks.

When I saw the plane, I was absolutely astonished! Two emotions crashed over me: surging joy and crazy fear.

If a big wave came at the wrong moment, it would sweep me off into forty-eight-degree water, where I might last twenty minutes. Drowning quickly might be better.

Going up the mast is one of the most dangerous things you can do as a solo sailor.

In that moment it dawned on me that everything has to line up perfectly for something to turn out this awful.