Hello, my name is Kārlis,
and I am addicted.

First time when I noticed my addiction

was when I sat by the piano
at the age of six.

Without any knowledge or notes,
I just let myself go.

The composition was both flowing
and very impulsive.

Overwhelmed by the creative process,
I was delighted.

My sister was shouting,

"Stop it! It sounds horrible!
You don't know how to play."

My grandma, however, told her to stop
interrupting me as I was composing.

I had no idea what composing meant,
but the composing was really cool.

I felt very similar when I
was in mountains 14 years later.

First, the creative process
in my childhood was true to the bone,

and after spending two weeks
in the middle of the adventure,

everyone in our group became just as true.

Second, if you want to climb a new route,

you have to improvise
without any instructions or descriptions.

I had had some adventure
improvisations before -

with Nordic skates,

with ice axes and crampons,

with skis,

with bicycles.

As the years passed,
my addiction had become worse.

When I sat at a place where the road meets
the vastness of an ocean,

I was wondering: "Is the end of the road
also the end of the adventure?"

I sat at the shore

until I started to see a new road
which stretched between the waves.

That was the road I was about to follow.

Just like that, a new addiction was born.

We wanted to cross
the South Atlantic Ocean by the new road,

rowing 6,000 kilometres
in a ocean rowing boat,

without sails, without a motor,
and without a support vessel,

from Namibia to the Summer Olympic
and Paralympic Games in Rio de Janeiro.

My first alpine instructor said,

"Write a diary because you won't
be able to recall things later."

Well, he taught me many important things,
but this wasn't one of them.

(Laughter)

I knew that I would remember
everything what is worth remembering:

early tears blended
with salty coastal water;

the tears were not mine but Gints',
my rowing partner's.

We had just left the harbour,

and he started to cry,
a bit shy, tears of joy.

And then, he laughed and said,

"Yeah, man! Thanks for this bright idea,
thank you for being here!"

I had known Gints for eight years,

and already then, I knew
that Gints had experienced a lot.

He was a journalist,

he had worked as a news editor,
a business consulting instructor,

he had been a manager
of several companies,

he had two grown-up sons.

However, I had never ever
seen Gints crying.

Our minds were still polluted
with the thoughts of dry land.

We couldn't believe that the seal
didn't want anything from us.

Suddenly, it dived into depth headfirst,

leaving just his hind flippers
above the water.

Slowly moving them in all directions,

it reminded us of a strange dance.

The seal was just enjoying itself.

During the night, we could observe
it's dancing around the boat.

As soon as it moved just a couple
of metres below the water,

the water immediately shone
with countless bluish lights;

those were algae, making
the seal's tail look much longer.

Observing the seal, who was just enjoying
being in his natural environment,

was so easy and natural

that we even forgot
to take a picture of it.

(Laughter)

(Video starts) (Waves)

As far as the eye can see,
there is only pulsing desert of water.

Then it gets dark,

and a couple of hours later,

an orange moon rises
above the black horizon.

As it gets higher,
it rolls out a carpet of silver light.

The light gently touches the boat
and show us the way like a compass.

We were rowing in two-hour shifts.

One rows for two hours,
then rests for two hours,

and this goes on for 24 hours a day.

What new or different can be found
in such a perfectly adjusted routine?

Well, remember, if you want to row,

you have to row
while sitting on the rowing seat.

But, for the third week,
I couldn't sit down at all.

Antibiotics were not helping
to deal with the serious health problems

caused by the lack of vitamins
and fresh food.

We had gone one-third of our way,

and the doctors recommended us
to evacuate ourselves.

We were supposed
to come up with something else.

Anyone who has ever rowed a boat

knows how naive the idea
to row while standing is.

Naive, yet it was the only solution
we could come up with.

Two strokes forward, one backwards.

But slowly and patiently,
we learned the new technique.

What is the feeling
when your naive solution works?

(Video starts) Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

(Laughter)

(Applause)

(Laughter)

Your alarm rings.
It's two o'clock at night.

The cosiness of a small cabin
surrounds you with a delicate warm.

You can hear approaching waves from afar.

It starts up like a drag race car -
eeerrrh, bum!

And it crashes

into six-millimetre plywood wall
that separates you from the ocean.

Refreshed by the two hours of sleep -
I even managed to dry my clothes -

it looks like I'm hesitating
to change the completely soaked Gints.

No! The real fun is about to begin!

I switch on the right frequency,

someone may call it a barrier, a shield,
or something like that,

but I don't have time to think,
I just open the hatch and jump out,

once again arriving in my fun mode,
in my fun channel.

Gints was saying something,

but 90 percent of the words
were taken by the wind.

I shut the cabin door from outside

and quickly got myself
in the rowing position.

I tried to focus, I tried to see
something in the dark.

Where should I be rowing now?

I could see absolutely nothing.

I was closely watching the dark.

On the left,

I was holding on to the railing.

Suddenly, six buckets
of refreshing salt water in my face!

Yeah! Thank you, wave! Thank you, ocean!

(Video starts)
Attention! Attention, Jaladi!

This is rowing boat Linda,
rowing boat Linda.

Do you hear us?

(Jaladi on the radio) Yes, Linda!
Good morning, this is Jaladi.

(On stage) KB: That is how
a seven metres long boat starts a chat

with a 330 metres long tanker.

(Laughter)

Immediately, it agreed to be stopped
in the middle of the ocean.

The crew didn't care about losing time
or any other potential losses.

The seamen were ready to share everything.

"Give us a full list, guys! Don't be shy!"

The most important things
were vitamins and fresh food,

but we had also been dreaming
of cheese sandwiches for a month.

(Laughter)

And without any reference to superficial,
supernatural and Hollywood clichés -

"dreams do come true,
if only we wish them strong enough" -

I can honestly say dreams
literally came true in front of our eyes.

The seamen were lowering Christmas gifts
into our boat in the middle of July.

(Laughter)

Can you imagine

stopping a fuel truck driver
to ask him for a plaster,

but he also offers his dinner too?

(Laughter)

On dry land, my brain filters
countless gigabytes of information -

videos, photos, fake news,
real truths, some bullshit -

but here in the ocean,
I got one text message per day.

Sometimes, one every two days.

160 signs from the outside world.

Those were messages from home,
messages from my loved ones.

I remember re-reading
every word tens of times.

I imagined hearing every word in person.

My inner radar had freed itself
from all the useless gigabytes,

and these small, truthful sincerities
touched the horizon of my heart.

The slowest way to Rio
had completely justified its name.

Instead of 100 nights,
it was the night 140.

8,000 kilometres behind us,
but it doesn't matter -

we have 20 kilometres to the shore,
and we can't reach it!

(Laughter)

The boils keep coming back
all over our bodies,

Gints has broken his ribs two weeks ago,

upstream, headwinds ...

Even when the two of us
are rowing together,

we've been throwing further
and further back into the ocean.

We have been months too late
for the Olympics,

(Laughter)

a week too late for the Paralympics,

(Laughter)

and just the very core idea of our goal

was to row without an engine and sails.

"I want to go ashore, Kārlis,
I really want to go ashore."

"Please, mate, let's just try
for one more day."

I switch off the navigation monitor

so I no longer have to see at what speed
we are drifting away from the coast.

(Sighs)

Meanwhile, Gints
was praying for a miracle.

We were waiting in silence.

I was trying to get rid of the tension:

"If it's not meant to happen,
it's not going to happen."

And I let go of something inside of me
and felt relieved.

And two hours later,
the stream took boat to the north,

then to the northwest,

and by the evening of the next day -

(Video starts)

(Cheers)

Man's voice: Guys, you did it! Yeah!

For crying out loud, it's unbelievable!

Yeah!

KB: Aaaaahhh!

We are touched
to the bottom of our hearts.

(Laughter)

Gints Barkovskis: Our skulls
have been blown open,

and our brains were touched by the wind!

Man's voice:
I'm really happy for you, guys!

GB: A realization
that only a miracle can help us,

so let that miracle happen.

And it happened.

(Applause)

[The first team to row
across the South Atlantic Ocean -

Kārlis Bardelis
and Gints Burkovskis (Latvia),

who rowed from Luderitz, Namibia,
to Rio das Ostras, Brazil,

in 141 days 19 hours and 35 minutes

between 4 May and 23 September 2016
on board Linda.]

(On stage) KB: I can still see
a thousand questions

in some faces in the audience.

(Laughter)

What about sharks? What about whales?

How did you eat?
How did you charge your batteries?

Well, you can ask
all those questions to Google,

just as we did before this adventure.

(Laughter)

The most important thing
I wanted to tell you is what I believe in.

I believe in true tears,
I believe in true joy.

I believe in true humanity,
and I still believe in true miracles.

My diagnosis is simple.

And luckily, it's for life.

I'm addicted. I'm addicted to freedom.

Do you think you are not addicted?

Thank you.

(Applause)