Addicted to iPhone

Buddhism tells us that the origin of suffering is attachment. In a very un-Buddhist way I’ve become terribly attached to my iPhone, and I’m hoping the suffering won’t be too great when I have to go cold turkey when I set out again across the Pacific. Here is how frighteningly integrated into my day my iPhone has become.

[If you don't have an iPhone, there are still some goodies here that run on other smartphones. But be warned - it might make you go iPhone...]

My most-used apps on my iPhone home page

7am: Wake up when iPhone alarm clock (standard iPhone app) goes off. Bell Tower is my sound of choice – not too traumatic. If I’ve woken up before the alarm, I might have spent a few minutes lying in bed checking emails and Facebook – on my iPhone. Review VisionBoard and decide how I can move closer to my goals today.

Get up, weigh self. Wince. Record weight on iStayFit.

Go to gym. Check iStayFit to see what workouts I’m doing today. Cardio first – put in earbuds and listen to podcasts on iPod app, or music on Last.fm. Use PushupFu, CrunchFu, and SquatFu (all available from GymFu) to set workouts and count reps using the inbuilt iPhone motion sensor. Record reps and resistance of weights session on iStayFit.

Home for breakfast. Record calories on DailyBurn.

Head to office (aka Dog River Coffee Shop). Check in on FourSquare. Notice that Brennan is still beating me on points. How does he do it?!

Review To Do list on Things. Synchronise between laptop and iPhone to upload the To Do items I recorded on the phone during yesterday’s meetings. My flight itinerary to the Galapagos has arrived from the TED organisers. I email it to TripIt.com, which will automatically generate appointments in iCal for my flights, and will alert me to any last-minute flight delays.

After working for a couple of hours, drive into Portland for a meeting. Pick out destination from Contacts, and the TomTom application shows the route and verbally gives me directions. I have a few brainwaves during the one-hour drive. Record voice messages on Note2Self, which get saved as MP3 files and automatically mailed to my email Inbox. Think of a few emails I need to send, so I use iTalk2Email to record and send them to the relevant people.

Arrive in Portland. Manage to find a parking space, but it’s a distance from my meeting. Use G-Park to record the location for later reference. Set the alarm to alert me when the parking meter will run out. Use Google Maps to navigate myself on foot to my meeting.

While I’m walking a text alert comes in via TrackThis to tell me that my new solar recharger has been delivered to the house in Hood River.

I arrive at the meeting a bit early so I wait in reception. I’ve had some ideas while I’ve been driving, so I jot them down in a mindmap using iThoughts. The app sends the mindmap in multiple formats to my email account, so I can work on it in Novamind later on my laptop. I still have some time to spare, so I catch up on some articles I didn’t have time to read while I was online earlier. I use one-click buttons in the Firefox browser to save them to Evernote if I’m certain I want to keep them long-term, or Instapaper for things I will read once and discard.

The meeting begins. Instead of exchanging business cards, we Bump our iPhones together and our contact details are automatically posted to each other’s Contacts. Someone doesn’t have an iPhone, so I borrow her business card and use Cardreader to take a photo and the app scans the details into my Contacts using optical character recognition. At the end of the meeting I take a photo of us all with Gorillacam – it has a self-timer so we can all be in the picture. I use TweetDeck to post the photo as a Twitpic to illustrate my Tweet about the meeting. I also send it as a postcard to my mother, using Postino. She likes to know where I am and who I’m meeting.

I’d promised to give Brennan a shout so we could get together to do some more work on our Eco Heroes website, so I check on Vicinity to see what coffee shops are in the area. You’re never far from a coffee shop in Portland. That one looks good, and only 146 yards away – a review on Yelp tells me it has free, fast WiFi. Oooh, I get 5 points + 3 points travel bonus on Foursquare! I use Over Here to send Brennan my location via email. He clicks on the link from his iPhone and it shows him where I am on Google Maps.

During our discussion he suggests a book I might like to read. I use the Goodreads app to add it my to-read list and check out the prices online. This will get synced up to my account on the Goodreads website. I see the book is available second-hand on Amazon at a really good price. Oh, why not? I go ahead and order it for delivery within 48 hours.

After my meeting with Brennan I decide to treat myself to a movie. I check out the top movies on IMDb and try to decide between Sherlock Holmes and Invictus. I watch the trailers on Flixster. Both look good, but I am more in the mood for Invictus. Flixster tells me it’s on at the Lloyd Center at 7.05pm. Perfect. There’s a piece of music in the film I really like but don’t know what it’s called. I surreptitiously turn on my phone and use Shazam to identify the track and download it off the iTunes Store. I’m so impressed by Morgan Freeman’s performance I pick him to win the Oscar for Actor in a Leading Role in my Oscars app.

I head back to Hood River, listening to the Invictus soundtrack. I curl up in bed with my iPhone to check up on a few Facebook friends. I log the day’s progress against my goals in the Habit Factor, and count my blessings using the Gratitude app. I finish unwinding by toying with the lava-lamp-like and mesmerising Bloom app for a few minutes, set my iPhone alarm, turn off the light and fall asleep. Another day in iPhone heaven.

Oh, and sometimes I even use it for making phone calls. But that’s so last century….

Other great apps:

Google for iPhone: the voice search is excellent. Alone among voice recognition apps, it seems to understand my accent!

Urbanspoon: great for finding local restaurants.

StarWalk: gorgeous augmented-reality app for identifying stars and constellations.

Tetris: the classic game. I have to limit myself to no more than one game a day as it’s the most entertaining waste of time ever!

Seafood Watch: to find out if your seafood is sustainable and healthy.

Locavore: find your local farmers’ markets, and what foods are in season in your location.

Odyssey and Distant Shore (both by Blimp Pilots): beautiful and for a good cause.

And last but not least, the RozTracker app from Archinoetics. Get it now for tracking Pacific III!

Audiobooking to Australia

I took this photo by mistake, but I quite like it. Me and earbuds. In a coffee shop, not on a boat.

I took this photo by mistake, but I quite like it. Roz with earbuds. In coffee shop, not Pacific.

Yesterday I received the good news that Audible.com are giving me 10 book credits. This certainly won’t be enough to get me all the way to Australia (or wherever), but it all helps. Leo Laporte is also giving me his latest selection of audiobooks, and I still have a few left from my last row, although I’ve listened to all the ones that looked good.

This is the message that I sent to Audible through their website contact form:

Hi Audible

I am a British ocean rower. In 2005 I rowed solo across the Atlantic, and I am now about to embark on the final stage of a 3-stage row across the Pacific, a total distance of 8,000 miles from San Francisco to Australia.

I couldn’t do what I do (at least with any shred of sanity left intact) without my audiobooks. Each of my ocean voyages takes around 100 days, during which time I am totally alone. The audiobooks are a fantastic diversion for me – they help me escape from the monotony of sea and sky, day after day. My imagination can take off into magical worlds of fantasy and sci-fi, or I can educate myself and expand my mind with works of non-fiction.

I have a rule that I can only listen to audiobooks while I am rowing. It helps motivate me to get back on the rowing seat for up to 12 hours of rowing a day. I listen to between 70 and 80 books on each crossing.

I hope you enjoy this glimpse of how much audiobooks mean to me.

With thanks and best wishes
Roz

My growing collection of book-loaded iPods. I put them in a waterproof Aquapac bag when in use at sea.

I received this response:

Thanks very much for writing to us about listening as you row. In the 14 years I’ve been at Audible, I’ve heard lots of stories about where people listen, but yours is the most exciting. I admire what you are doing and am glad that Audible can play even a small role to help.

So now I have to carefully consider how to spend my precious 10 credits. Last year I got 100 credits from Audible.co.uk (and am still hoping they will contribute again, but am still waiting to hear) which completely spoiled me. I didn’t need to be quite so selective. With just 10 credits to play with for now, I am considering how to get most bang for my buck.

My main criteria for an audiobook are:

1. Length: even if it’s a really great book, a 4-hour audiobook loses out to a 24-hour audiobook.

2. Escapism: edifying though non-fiction often is, on the ocean I’ve largely given up on edification. Life is hard enough already. When faced with yet another day of sea and sky and little silver rowboat, my imagination craves stimulation. Books that take me temporarily into a different time and/or place are a welcome escape from row-row-row-reality.

3. Quality of narration: the best book in the world can be ruined by poor narration. Most Audible.com readers are excellent, as I’ve really appreciated when I’ve listened to some readers associated with other audiobook companies. I have an iPod full of free audiobooks – free because they were written over 100 years ago so the copyright has expired, and because the readers are maybe less than professional. I especially enjoy the bits that somehow missed the edit, e.g. in the midst of a Charles Dickens an unexpected aside like: “oh bugger, I messed that bit up – let’s try it again”. This would never happen on Audible.

I’m attaching my wishlists from Audible and Goodreads (Goodreads, incidentally, has a good iPhone app), and would welcome any comments or recommendations.

Audible Wish List

Goodreads Wish List

You can see the books I read on Pacific Stage 1 on my new Bookshelf page. It’s still under development – my wonderful, long-suffering mother has been charged with the unenviable task of posting the rest of the links to Audible and Amazon.

And yes, if you click through from my site to purchase, I do get a commission on the book and anything else you buy from Audible.com within 6 months. The Pacific II book list coming once I am in the same place as my logbook again – currently it is in San Francisco and I am in Oregon.

(And if you feel moved to contribute the price of an audiobook, please check out the Audible.com website to find out how much your book of choice costs, and use the PayPal button in the top right corner on my website. Thanks!)

Sound and Vision: TED and National Geographic

Speaking at National Geographic in Washington DC last year

Speaking at National Geographic in Washington DC last October

I’ve got some big important presentations coming up – three for National Geographic and one for TED’s Mission Blue, and I’m determined to do a good job. Apart from a bit of rowing, these are possibly the biggest events in my 2010.

But I’m having a quandary about which way to go with my visuals. Yesterday I watched these two TED videos in search of inspiration:

Ben Saunders skis to the North Pole

Lewis Pugh swims the North Pole

They have two very different styles, and I’m not sure which one works best.

Lewis’s style is more like what I’ve done in the past, keeping the speaking and the video as two very separate components. This is how I’ve always used video – as an opportunity to take a break in the presentation, and allow the video to do the speaking for me.

But National Geographic have suggested that they want me to do their presentation more Ben-style, with me commentating over short clips of video, and keeping the video fairly raw, without captions or music.

In favour of the Lewis approach is that at the moment it is more like what I am used to.

But in favour of the Ben approach is that it is more similar to what National Geographic want, so I will be rehearsing that style more over the coming weeks, and it may be less confusing for my brain if I use a similar style for both presentations.

Another factor is that the National Geographic presentation is significantly longer – around 60 minutes – compared with a strict limit of 18 minutes at TED. So you could argue that different approaches would work better in the different contexts.

So I’m opening this for comments. Which you think is more effective? If you were coming to either of the presentations, and I hope that some of you are), which would you prefer to see?

P.S. I hear that the National Geographic presentations in Seattle are nearly sold out – 2,500 tickets per performance. So move quickly if you plan on coming!

No, I Said Tycoon, Not Typhoon….

 Typhoon tracks from the 2008/2009 season

Map showing tracks of typhoons in 2009

Further to my blog about the perils of adverse winds and inconveniently-placed islands in the Western Pacific, I sat down and browsed through the wind patterns for the various months of the year on the COGOW website – and thought I’d found a solution. November to February looked just lovely – nice winds out of the East, whisking me gently towards Australia.

So I emailed Lee Bruce, my weatherman (not to be confused with Bruce Lee, who is somebody else entirely). And found out why he had not suggested this alternative. It’s typhoon season. About 5 cyclones near my route each season.

His understated opinion on this was: “Lots of possibilities when it comes to TCs. Waves can be 5m to 10+m, and changeable depending on your location and the cyclone’s movement and strength. Although the storm that hit Pink Lady [another rowing expedition routed by Lee, that ended rather dramatically] was not a hurricane in the strict meteorological definition, it was like tangling with a CAT 1 cyclone. So there’s enough to worry about with TCs, and I would lean toward avoiding that season if you can.”

Bruce Lee. Who is not my weatherman.

Bruce Lee. Not my weatherman.

Ah.

I was almost tempted – which would I prefer? 100 days of frustration and discomfort, or 90 days of fair conditions + about 10 days of abject terror, spent strapped to my bunk as my boat rolls around in 30 foot waves. An interesting philosophical question that might reflect on general attitudes to life – which would you prefer? The crazy rollercoaster ride, or the constant grind?

But I suppose safety must come first. So typhoon season is best avoided, no matter how unappealing the alternative.

So it’s a big NO to typhoons – although a tycoon or two would be handy right now, as my fundraising endeavours continue to yield precious little.

In The Stroke Seat

During my interview with Anne Dujmovic of CNET in Portland last week, she asked me one of the best questions I’ve ever heard. Referring to a story in my book about my selection to the stroke seat of the Oxford Lightweights crew, she asked if I feel like I am now in the stroke seat of my life.

Yes, I do – and the more I thought about her question, the more I loved the metaphor.

Me in the stroke seat of the Oxford Lightweights, 1989

Me in the stroke seat of the Oxford Lightweights, 1989

In a racing crew, the job of the rower in the stroke seat is to set the rhythm for the rest of the crew. The ideal stroke sets a steady, powerful rhythm, that enables the rest of the crew to perform at their best.

When you watch the Oxford/Cambridge Boat Race, the face you see most is that of the stroke. You catch glimpses of the Number 7, but most of the rest of the crew is hidden behind this stern pair. But they all have their jobs to do, and are all necessary parts of the crew. Seats 5 and 6 are often referred to as the power house seats – these are where the biggest, strongest rowers usually sit. Seats 3 and 4 are also power seats, although usually slightly smaller and possibly less experienced than 5 and 6. Bow and 2 are the technical seats – put a rough rower in either of these seats and they will knock the boat off-balance and make life uncomfortable for everybody, so these rowers have to be neat and precise.

Even though the stroke might be the most visible face, they can’t do what they do without the complete support of the rest of the crew. A good stroke can’t make a bad crew good, although a bad stroke can turn a good crew bad.

And the coxswain? The little guy who sits in the stern of the boat, who keeps the boat on course and exhorts the crew to do their best. The cox is the strategist, the “brains” of the boat, who knows just when to call for a push for ten, and when to ease back. A good cox knows how to motivate the crew, just what to say and when, to get the maximum performance out of them. And he will take advice from the stroke, who provides feedback on how the crew is feeling.

So in our community here on this blog, I suppose I am in the stroke seat. I set the pace, and the other members of the community (you!) back me up. I couldn’t do what I do without you being there, pulling for me. Occasionally somebody catches a crab (rowing terminology for when a rower catches their oar in the water and the handle whips round, knocking them flat, or even sending them flying clean out of the boat). Even the stroke can catch a crab. It can happen to anybody, and brings the boat to a messy halt. But then we get our oars sorted out, get the ejected rower back on board, and get the boat moving again.

We are at our most effective when we are all pulling in the same direction, our movements synchronised, and the boat lifts and flies across the water. Everybody moving in unison. We are poetry in motion.

And the coxswain? The voice that provides us with motivation, and keeps us on course, and urges us to be the best that we can be?

Well, I leave it up to you to decide how to apply that part of the metaphor. Interpret according to your own inclinations.

And of course, this is just in the context of this community. You are also in the stroke seat in your own community, your office, your family, your organisation. It’s all about teamwork, and each of us doing what we can to rally and focus action towards progress.

If we all pull together, we CAN save the world!

Page 1 of 9312345102030...Last »