Leaving the UK

The situation was less than ideal, losing two members of a four man team for a transatlantic challenge with a couple of weeks before flying out. It would be possible as a pair but I couldn’t justify the time away with my family, it was a heavy weight on my mind as it was and to extend the trip by 30 plus days was a non starter.

Thankfully in a bittersweet way a solution had been found, unfortunately another team had failed in raising the money to get the boat in the water and we were replacing our missing pair with two of them. They drew names from a hat to see who would be joining us. Connor and Mitch were the new members of Atlantic Dagger. I’m not a fan of FaceTime, I think it’s down to having a conversation with someone and then seeing my face staring back at me from the corner of the screen. The result is I think I come across a little stand off ish, however that was the circumstances of our first meeting.

We were proactive in ensuring all necessary team items were procured, collected and packed ready for our individual flights to Gran Canaria.

Mitch had only recently left the Corps and was bouncing round on the private security circuit.

Connor was a second officer on a merchant navy vessel who were contracted by the MOD, he was the Navigation Officer which a great relief and subconsciously we nominated him as our skipper.

Chris Martin was keeping us all updated with the transit information of Danielle (our boat) and it transpired due to Covid etc that there were delays with its delivery to the Canary Islands.

I was happy for the extra time as it was December and everyone was ramping up for Christmas and I savoured any time with my wife and children. Theo was at an age where he was more aware of the season and was excited with everything that went with it, yet at the same time I wanted this to be like a band aid and rip of off and get out there and on the water so I could be back with them all.

We decided to an early Christmas Day and did so the Saturday before I was due to leave, we fully committed to the day and the children did not miss out. It was a nice lazy day of opening presents, playing, enjoying Christmas dinner and watching festive films on the television. Weeks later on the 25th, out on the ocean I didn’t feel like I had missed out and relived that day in my mind.

It was a few days of checking and rechecking packing, a bit of kit fiddling and catching up with any faces before my fight out on the Friday.

The day of the fight brought back memories of deploying to Afghanistan. Excitement at the thought of testing myself in a extreme environment and seeing how I would handle the reality. Anxious at the thought that it could be the last time my loved ones and I would see each other if it all went tits up. I had this feeling of a heavy weight that sat low in my stomach which most soldiers are familiar with, late on the Sunday prior to going back to work after a long leave period.

My wife and children dropped me off to Bristol airport and I suppressed any real emotion and tried to get my head in to work mode. I kissed and hugged them goodbye and made an uneventful masked easyJet flight to Gran Canaria.

Upon arrival I began dealing with the process of picking up the hire car and the surprise addition of insurance extra payments. Then I was trying to plot the route to the accommodation using the address from my email, and bizarrely it was telling me to take a ferry to Tenerife. I got a hot sweat instantly, in the past I’ve made a few gaffs and mixed up dates when booking flights and bedding. I contacted the landlord, he put his English wife on the phone after the confusion of me trying to confirm the room was in Gran Canaria. She’s said it was indeed in Gran Canaria and that I should get a move on as it was early evening and her husband didn’t want to be out late welcoming us in to the apartment. I explained that the other two in the party had been held up getting off the plane, she misinterpreted this to be that we’re were delayed and began to tell me to leave as they could be hours. I was close to snapping at the silly cow as I was approaching the end of my tether, it was at this point Connor and Mitch walked up to me with big smiles on their faces. My face was clearly a different picture and that didn’t aide in making a good first impression. I promptly ended the call and led the lads to the car park, and began the drive across the island to our base for the next few weeks. My bad mood subsided with each minute and the ice was easily broken.

Oscar had gotten out there a few days prior and was staying with Chris until we’d arrived. He met us at the apartment as we got the guided tour. Once we had decided sleeping arrangements we went to the local corner shop and got some essentials and went for a meal and a few beers. The first time we sitting eating together as a team and by no means the last.

The first few days were quite relaxed as waited for the other team members from the other boat taking part, our briefs and mini lectures would begin when they arrived. Our apartment ran harmoniously, we were a 15 minute drive from the Marina but on edge of the local town so plenty of amenities available to us in walking distance. When the team of Cockleshell Endeavour arrived we had a brief and went through the actions on and all safety aspects of what we were doing. Helping Chris with the scrutinising was Nick, a quiet cerebral bearded Columbian. Having previously rowed the Atlantic solo a few years ago he knew what we were letting ourselves in for. He was assigned to our team and finally when our boat arrived he supervised the unpacking, checking off all items and repacking of the boat, giving us tips along the way.

At the same time an Irish lady was setting off from a neighbouring marina on a solo effort and we joined the others to wave her off. While she passed us we were discussing the shape of her boat as it was very different to ours, Nick explained that she was using a new shape. The bow cabin was larger to enable to catch the wind and act like a minor sail, he also explained that the vessel had a auto helm which meant it would be steered by GPS. Our boat was a classic model, which meant the stern (rear) cabin was the larger of the two and we had to steer the boat with one foot as we rowed.

If I’m honest, as I was made aware of this my immediate reaction was that I wished we had the newer shape vessel for what would make an easier trip. However this was wishful thinking, the reality being that any attempt to cross the Atlantic in a man powered rowing boat was an arduous challenge no matter what updates had been made to the small boat. We would find this out first hand soon enough. I reformed my thinking and rather than look at it as a disadvantage we lacked these design features, I saw it it as we were getting a grittier experience. This would later prove to be an advantage in itself when the going got tough a few weeks into the crossing.

We got the boat packed and lowered in to the Marina, only to have Nick to leave prior to us getting out on the water and conducting sea trials. The delays in getting the boat had exceeded what he and Chris had expected and Nick had to return to Columbia. We were all gutted as we began to form a good bond with him and he felt a level of responsibility for the team and wanted to make sure we were confident and squared away. Between us all, I believed we had taken much of what he passed on to us on board. 🥁

The two boat crews, Chris and Nick had a meal the night before he left, sharing stories, telling jokes and discussing the potential stories to come. The next day we would be getting out on Danielle in the sea around Pasito Blanco, I hadn’t yet been out on the water in a ocean rowing boat yet and in a week or so I was to be beginning a voyage of nearly 3000 miles.

No cuff too tough..