Day 128 - The Drone That Almost Didn’t Make It Back

Day 128 started a little slower than usual. Not quite a sleep-in, but by the time we were up, had coffees, and got ourselves organised for a run, it was already pushing nine o’clock. Half the morning gone before we’d even really begun.

It took a bit of convincing to get Maddie out the door again, but Emmett was keen as always. We stuck to our now-regular session, 200 metres on, 100 metres off, stretching it out to about 2.5 kilometres. Slowly but surely, we’re building the kids’ fitness, one run at a time.

Straight after, we headed to the local café for a well-earned coffee.

The weather had other ideas. It was forecast to be average, but instead we were greeted with bright, clear skies and no wind. One of those mornings where everything just feels right.

On the way to the café, Kia had the idea to grab the drone and get some shots of the coastline. She ran back to the apartment to grab it while we kept moving. Off in the distance, though, there was a storm brewing, so I was keen to get the drone up quickly before the weather turned.

That’s where things nearly went very wrong.

In a rush, I grabbed the wrong battery. The flat one.

I launched the drone, sent it out over the ocean, and almost immediately got the low battery warning. That sinking feeling hit straight away. I turned it around and started bringing it back, but it was crawling. Slower and slower as the battery drained.

Then it got worse.

Because I’d rushed the takeoff, the drone had set its home point out over the water instead of on land. So when it tried to initiate return-to-home, it was aiming for a spot above the ocean.

At that point, it was pure panic.

I was easing it down, inching it forward, watching it lose power with every second. It barely wanted to move. Somehow, I managed to get it just past the shoreline. I ran down to the beach, heart racing, and right as it reached the sand… it landed itself.

Just above the waterline.

About as close as you can get to losing a drone without actually losing it.

Very lucky.

We eventually sat down for our coffees, and almost on cue, the rain started sprinkling. We moved inside and finished up there, watching the weather roll in.

Back at the apartment, the plan was simple. Workout, showers, then head out for a family trip to Alberobello to see the famous trulli houses, those unique white stone huts with cone-shaped roofs that make the town feel like something out of a storybook.

Instead… life happened.

We did the workout. Everyone needed showers. Then we ended up having a late breakfast-slash-lunch around 11:30. By the time we were ready to go, Kia pointed out we’d arrive right in the middle of siesta.

So we decided to leave it a bit later.

Then the kids got into a game and were playing really well together. Kia got stuck into editing, trip planning, and working on some Instagram content. I jumped back onto the website trying to catch up on blogs.

Next minute, I glanced at the time.

Three o’clock.

At that point, it didn’t make sense anymore. It’s about an hour and a half drive each way, and we would’ve arrived too late to properly explore. One of those moments where you just have to call it and try again tomorrow.

We’re finding ourselves leaning more into routine at the moment. Exercise, movement, a bit of structure… over ticking off sightseeing boxes. And honestly, it feels good.

The kids watched a movie in the afternoon, I cooked dinner, and for once, we actually got everyone into bed early. Lights out by eight.

A pretty simple day.

Not much sightseeing, but plenty of real life.

And sometimes, that’s exactly what this journey is about.