Tez has now been at sea for 5 days. He was able to send this to our media team on shore by text message:

Hey everyone, I know I haven’t made any posts despite being out on this adventure for five days now. So I wanted to make a quick post and let you know what’s going on.
The weather is intense and I’m not able to send any photos or videos yet, but I hope this quick blog will give you a taste of what life at sea is like so far.
Let’s start off with the facts:
I am 154 miles into the row, approximately 80 miles off shore from California, and tonight is my fifth night at sea. I’ve made good progress both south and west, despite facing headwinds for the past few days.
I am currently in my cabin, wearing my helmet, and strapped down onto my bunk. Two days ago when the wind and waves picked up I had to deploy my para anchor, which is like an underwater parachute that stabilizes the boat. The ocean is over 6000 feet deep where I am now, so this is the only way to stabilize myself when the water is too rough to row.
It’s surprisingly effective, but not without its challenges. I am covered in bruises from bouncing into my cabin walls. The items in my cabin are strewn all over the place from waves smashing into the boat and knocking loose equipment and belongings I carefully placed in little pockets on the walls.
Every few seconds a wave comes crashing over the boat and it’s like I’m living inside of a washing machine.
I’ve been here for the past 48 hours, and hope that tomorrow morning I can pull up the anchor and begin rowing again.
This time in the cabin has been a bit of a challenge. I had looked forward to this time to myself to enjoy audiobooks and take photos and videos. Unfortunately, two days ago my iPhone reset itself while in my pocket. My music I brought for the trip, the audiobooks, and especially the camera on the phone that I bought specifically for this journey, are all gone.
I’ve been so disappointed in myself for letting this happen. But I think the thing that’s really bothering me is not so much the phone being gone. It’s that the phone was a way for me to stay busy out here, and while I’m in this cabin so far away from everyone I love, there’s not much to keep me busy anymore.
After years of working to get here, I find myself in this tiny cramped space, wet and cold, and wondering what it’s all for.
On the first day of this trip, I cried tears of joy. Joy for being able to follow my heart. Gratitude for everyone who helped me get here. And delight and pure love for the amazing creatures that came to greet me on the way out of Monterey.
From 8am until 8pm on day 1 I saw whales as far as the eye could see: humpbacks leaping out of the water, full breach, exploding into the sky and splashing back down. I watched them from far away. Throughout the day, dolphins nearby racing beneath my boat. Then in late afternoon, the whales came to check me out. They came cruising by, their eyes above the water line, looking at me and Moderation to figure out who we were. It’s been a dream of mine for so long to see humpback whales, and to see them so close, from my own boat, with no one else anywhere in sight, was the most amazing experience. It made me cry tears of joy.
But now just a few days later in my cabin I’ve been crying tears of sadness, loneliness, confusion and fear. The ocean has shown me in a very short amount of time how strong she can be. How small I am. There’s a very long way between me and Hawaii, and I’m doing my best to get used to my new home and remember why I’m doing this. Thank you for following. I hope to share more soon.