I had an incredible time. Hey who doesn't? However, I did have (it has to be noted) some rather difficult problems throught the journey.

1- Watermaker failed
2- Broke all my oars
3- Capsized and didn't self-right
4- Rudder snapped in half
5- Electrical problems

I've included below a few special days from the trip.

Day 1

We’re off. A one hour delay for the ferries still struggling after the storm, and then a funny moment when the door jammed in the only toilet in the harbour- all us rowers literally bricking it, and nowhere to relieve ourselves…

Goodbyes were said early, no tears and then a cracking start at rating 36 for about 20 strokes before realising this is quite a long race really so best to take things easy. A nice NE wind away from Gomera and a soild 3 hours at the hours before a snack break and some U2 to listen to. Just had some dinner, moving along at a steady 1/2 knot in a westerly wind.

A truly amazing sunset, felt really lucky to be out here. Thank you to everyone for all their support and messages today!

Day 8

Well the water making situation has taken a rather interesting turn. Today while running it (With ear defenders on) the whole unit suddenly came to a shuddering halt. Hmm..I thought having a probe around. It finally turned out that the battery had taken a dive for no volts and this was why the watermaker had decided to go quiet for a while. While Boris and Mr P.Arrot rejoiced in the silence for a while I got to doing some electronic calcs. Good thing I concentrated in GCSE Physics I can tell you. Anyways the upshot of it all is that the battery needs some serious sunshine to top it up again before I can run the watermaker properly. Or I can use the hand pump attachment on the watermaker and produce my own water - not really a problem but it takes me off the oars for 2 hours a day which is something I really don’t want to do.
1 whole week at sea on my own and I’m only slightly crazy.

Take care you lot, it’s a dangerous world out there. My odds of being run over by a bus are significantly reduced. Hence, no clean underwear. Although I may have to do a spot of washing soon. Boris is starting to complain, and when a Monkey starts to complain about your personal hygiene you know somethings up!

Day 12

Wow! Well that was a bit of an interesting night. I stopped rowing early because my back and the headwind had combined to mean that I was making almost no headway. I put out the Parachute Anchor to try and maintain my position as the Support Yacht “SULA” came by to say hello. They would stay nearby overnight.

The night was the worst I’ve had yet. Waves getting to huge proportions and due to wind against swell producing a sea that more closely resembled a merangue pie than anything else. The noise is the first thing that caught me. You can hear the waves coming in from over 300m away. Just enough time to brace myself in the cabin before it hit and the deck was flooded with another wave filled with white water.

Being inside the cabin is worst than being on deck because every movement of the boat is exagerated and there is more stuff to bump into. SULA said hello in the morning before going off to look at other boats. Everyone’s gone backwards today. It looks like this is going to continue for a few days and then clear up by Tuesday so fingers crossed.

Poor Mr P.Arrot though has taken the brunt of the storm and has lost his tail and is about to go into emergency glue stick surgery in an effort to keep his feathers on. I’ll have to see if I can steal him a new tail from the next tern that passes too close.

Day 24

The aim of today was mileage towards Antigua. I’ve been concentrating recently on getting as far South as possible so that the next low that comes along won’t affect me and I can catch some of the trade winds at these lower latitudes. Now it’s time to head to Antigua. Generally the schedule on board involves the following routine:

* 6am Alarm goes off
* 6-6.30 Stretching, pre breakfast and anti inflamatory drugs for the back.
* 6.30-7.30 Rowing
* 7.30 - 8 Put on suncream for the day (Ultrasun-once a day application) and breakfast.
* 8-11 Rowing
* 11-11.15 Elevenses
* 11.15 - 13 Rowing
* 13-13.30 Lunch
* 13.30-15 Rowing
* 15-15.15 Afternoon break
* 15.15-17.30 Rowing
* 17.30-18.30 Dinner 1, rest and prepare for night time rowing
* 18.30-21.00 Rowing
* 21-21.30 Dinner 2
* 21.30-22.30 Rowing
* 22.30-23.00 Prep boat for night, Go to bed.

Not much today but did see a handfull of lovely coloured fish who had a large fin on top and another to match it underneath. This seemed to be their only way of moving so the wobbled along. Hereafter known as Wobble fish.

Gave Pete another scrub but had a thorough look for sharks first after yesterday’s encounter.
HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE. My thoughts are with you.

Day 29

What a day! Awoke to feel very very tired after working hard yesterday. The wind was howling all night and this meant that I had got a less than perfect night’s sleep. Being thrown about the cabin is never a perfect recipe for a good night!

The waves have been huge! Mostly around 20ft but one or two have been easily over 30ft and maybe over 35ft. So there I am, nailing it with the tail wind for all I’m worth. Surfing the waves, getting some almighty speeds too. I managed 12.9 on one wave, then suddenly hit a massive wave that was just breaking. Up went the speed and just didn’t stop. Water was flying into the boat from all angles, but as we were at exactly right angles to the wave it kept carrying us. Afterwards, I jumped up to check the GPS to record the max speed. 15.3 knots! Not bad at all!

Then, just afterwards, I was attempting a similar manoevre, but this time a wave came from the side at the top of the breaking crest, pushing the boat sideways and forcing the bowside blade under the boat. I heard a crunch and knew at once that the blade was history. Looking at it the problem was pretty clear. It looked as though it had been shredded. Oh well, that’s what spares are for, so swapping them over, I began again.

Within 3 minutes, the mother and father of all waves was coming to greet me. 35ft and just beginning to break. Up, up, up went the stern of the boat until I was within touching point of the summit, then it decided to break right over the rear cabin. The boat filled with water instantly; I was thrown off my seat and ended up sitting on the broken blade with another crunch. Pulling myself together and collecting everything ready for the restart, I noticed with horror that it wasn’t the already-broken blade that had caused the crunch, rather it was the spare! This means now that I only have one working pair of blades remaining! After phoning the support yacht, it was decided that I should just sit for a while and steer the boat, saving the blades, but after 2 hours, the really big ones had died down a bit and I’ve always been one of nature’s risk-takers, so I’ve been back out there this afternoon. Who can turn down speeds like this?

Apparently, the support yacht is due to visit tomorrow and unless something magical happens with my water-maker between now and then, they are likely to give me some more water. It’s not what I wanted, but at least it’s better than me trying to drink piss for the next 6 weeks!

Day 41

The short story: Last night at about 7 o’clock a large wave came from the stern of Pacific Pete and broke on the boat capsizing the boat. Pete didn’t automatically self-right as designed and I was able to turn the boat over get back in and put things to rights. I have broken 2 blades and the support yacht are now enroute to donate some more blades.

The long story: The sun had just dipped below the horizon but the sky was still quite light and the moon had become the brightest thing in the sky. It had been rough all day but nothing worse than what I’d experienced in the past. I noticed that a large wave was coming up behind me and made sure that the stern pointed into it. (If you broach on a wave that size you will capsize - no questions) The stern rose, and rose, and rose. We must have been close to 50 or 60 degrees befroe the wave finally broke turning all the water around me into white surf. Within a second the boat had capsized.

The first thought I had was how similar this was to the first capsize drill that I ever did with Hampton School as part of the J14 squad. We did a capsize test in the LEH swimming pool. The sea was about the same temperature but without chlorine and with more salt! I managed to get my feet out of the shoes and immediatly began searching for air. The boats are designed to self right so I was worried to discover that Pete was lying with his bottom to the sky. Gulping in air and taking stock of the situation it became clear that things were going to take a turn for the worse unless Pete could be turned up the right way. I made my way round to the bows and tried to clamber onto Pete but the waves and the lack of any hand hold made this impossible. Time was ticking by. Maybe a minute was past now. The longer the boat stays submerged like this the less likely it is to self right.

Suddenly my mind came round to a thought of the rudder. If I could grasp that it might give me enough leverage to turn the boat over. I had been tied onto the boat the whole time with an ankle leash that came tangled in with the Radar transponder pole. After a bit of a sort out I got down to the rudder and leaning on it and to my delight managed to turn Pete the right way up. I swam round to the side of Pete and had to undo my ankle leash as it had become tangled in the VHF aerial during the righting. I quickly put it back on though after climbing aboard.

I then started doing everthing I could to sort out the boat and make sure it didn’t happen again. The 2 oars I was using, and my last 2 oars were broken and crushed. I then filled up all bottles with water to act as ballast and make sure they were secured under the decks. This is the main reason why Pete didn’t fully self right. As I had been drinking the ballast water I had been neglecting to replace it with sea water to act as ballast. After that I checked that the hatched hadn’t leaked which miraculously they had not. I then sat inside and called the support yacht to ask for some more blades. They are about 2 days away. I didn’t get much sleep last night and could hear every wave all night. However because of this I believe that if it does happen again I am considerably more able to deal even better. The boat has so much ballast in it he can’t help but self right and I have put measures in place to make it easier to turn over if it doesn’t.

I am fine. A little shaken, a little stirred but in good health and spirits. Thank you so much for your texts and emails of support. They mean so much to me.

I’ll try and come up with some witty comments and observations tomorrow. I’m just counting myself very lucky at the moment. Especially as team 1 - Digicel were unable to turn over their capsized boat last night and spent some time in their liferaft before being picked up by a Spainish Trawler.

Day 52

Another one bites the dust…dah…dah…dah…

Yup that’s right. Last night just after it had got dark a large section of foamy water appeared out of nowhere on my starboard side with enough force to throw me off my seat and almost out of the boat. All was okay. I still had the 2 handles of the oars in my hands. Except wait a moment…One of the blades didn’t have an end to go with it. It had sheared off on the sea side of the collar leaving me with just the handle part. Not again.
After some severe bouts of shouting and getting rather cross with it all and feeling that the Atlantic really doesn’t want to be crossed by me and seems to be doing anything it can to stop me I phoned up the support yacht to report the problem then went to bed with dreams of sails and kite boating running through my mind.

In the early morning light I realised that I still had a section of one of my oars from the collar to the spoon that was undamaged as it was the other part from the handle to the collar that was broken. After about 2 hours of work on the oars I managed to get the Concept 2 handle to fit inside the Croker shaft and produced a world first: a Crocept 3! or should that be a Conker?

It seems to be working well at the moment but I’m being extra carefull now and not using them during the night or when it’s very rough or too nasty.

The grey skies continue today with odd lumpy swell coming from 2 directions at once. Horrible.

Day 54

After another rough night it was time to hit the oars. Waves have been coming from 2 different directions today both pushing me too far south so I’ve been almost side on for most of the day getting thrown about like a rag doll.
I sat down for lunch just after midday and was quietly enjoying a nice tin of hot chocolate (the mug got washed overboard in the capsize) when yet another large wall of white water energed on my starboard side. Having dealt with these before I immediatly jumped to the other side of the boat and felt my heart leave its normal place and head for my mouth as the boat tipped sideways. Pete was about 90 degrees to the water before the wave released us and I was thrown back down into the footwell. Pete dropped unceremoniously onto the sea with a deep slap that shook the boat. Luckily I had just managed to have the presence of mind to hold onto my tin so still had a bit of hot chocolate in the bottom although quite a lot had ended up over me and the remainder was a bit salty. Getting back to the oars I noticed something was wrong.

Pete had started behaving like a unruley child slewing over the sea rather than cutting through it. After a bit of searching it was found that the rudder had snapped off just below the bottom pintle. Pete’s rudder now was under half the size it was with all the useful bit (the bit that goes in the water) was missing. I’ve contacted the support yacht but there’s not much they can do at the moment. I’m thinking my way through a whole host of ways to mend it so hopefully I’ll have something up and running soon although the amount of force that a rudder takes is so large that I’m afraid that whatever I use will just break within a few minutes of being used.
So another day another problem. Hopefully only 14 more days to go so that’ll be 14 more problems to solve. Anyone guessing all 14 correctly in the right order wins a broken blade.

The weather is set to reduce as I approach Antigua meaning that getting the right direction will become less of a problem. At the moment the size if the waves limits the number of degrees that I can deviate from the wave direction. This will though make the last few days a bit slower. Oh well. Back to it.

Day 55

I spent last night trying to solve the problem of the GPS. I think I’ve got it sorted but need another stab at the problem tonight to cure it. Needless to say that attempting to solder complex connectors in a force 5 wind on a 24ft boat in 15ft seas is not particuarly easy especially when you don’t have a soldering iron and are making do with a nail and a camping gas stove!

This morning I needed to get to work on the rudder. Without one Pete’s stern gets blown all over the place and I loose out on lots of extra miles that can be gained just by using the wind to my advantage. After searching all over the boat I decided to use 2 of the slats from under my bed and bolt them to the left over bit of rudder with two slides used for extra strength bolted to either side. I started this at 6am and by midday was almost there covered in swarf from boreing out most of the holes in the slide beds by hand as the drill I have has rusted itself together and generally wasn’t working very well. The result is something I am so incredibly proud even I am surprised. Okay I’m now sleeping in a bed that is about 18? thinner than before but you can’t expect to have your cake and eat it out here. This has meant that I am almost a day down on rowing so I’m off now to pack the miles on before dark.

Day 68

Oh my god! Wow wow wow. I am in Antigua!

As yesterday progressed it became clear that a monday arrival was on the cards. Preferring to forgo food in lieu of rowing I gunned it as hard and as fast as I could for the whole day. As night time fell around the boat I could just make out the outline of Antigua coated in the blanket of a beautiful pink and purple sunset. (Unfortunately the camera has broken so that’s an image and a moment that I get to keep for myself)

The countdown clock was showing 15nm as I phoned up the support crew to let them know I should be over the line at 23.00 local time. The miles seemed to creep past as night took hold although the lights of the island were becomming more noticable and I saw a jet taking off from the airport in the north.

As I neared the line the RIB came out to meet me. Dad, Mike and Jo were all aboard. As I’m the only one who can see my GPS, only I knew when I’d crossed the finish line. 61 degrees 44.8 minutes west. I was getting close. The display is a bit too far away from the rowing position so I have to stop every now and again at frontstops and squint to see the figures click over. 44.635….44.702…44.756…44.788…44.803!

With a cry of elation that must have left some in the nearby towns wondering what all the noise was about I collapsed backwards letting go of the oars and lying flat on my back all the time screaming “YES!” A huge feeling of satisfaction and achievement welled up inside me. A feeling you cannot beat.

The RIB then offered me a tow to the harbour entrance which I politely declined. There was no way I would accept a tow to shore after this long. Anyway I didn’t really think I had crossed the Atlantic until my feet touch land by my own power. There was quite a stiff headwind so it was about an hour until I could battle my way into port. Coming in at midnight I was certain that the celebrations would be left until another day. How wrong I was.

In seconds cheers and shouts filled my ears. Unsure of where to go I looked round to see several flares bursting into flame, parachute flares illuminating the sky and lighting up people, so many people! Manouvering into land was a bit of a cock up but as soon as I could jumped off (still attached my my ankle strap) as someone emptied a champagne bottle onto me. My eyes stinging, body aching and mind confused by lights, smells, sounds and feeling I had long forgotten, I stood on land for the first time in nearly 10 weeks. I staggered and fell into Jo’s arms. We hugged for a while before wrapping my arms round my brother and Dad. Shaking people’s hands, hugging people and trying to talk I wobbled all over the place; the widest grin I have ever worn on my face. This is the most incredible moment of my life and one that I will not be forgetting for a long time.

Photos, handshakes and hugs continued for a while then I put Pete to bed for the last time and collected a few items before getting a lift back to the cottage Jo had organised for us.

Looking at myself in the mirror is the most strange experience. I have lost a lot more weight than I thought I had. The beard is more unkempt than I had thought and my eyes now have a little extra sparkle that I could have sworn wasn’t there before. I had a hot shower with an ice cold can of coke all the time wondering why my legs had started to disobey orders from my brain. They seemed determined to throw me through the shower curtain. I came out the shower to a smell I had longed for ages - A full English fry up. After a good feed and obligatory treatment of the bottom sores came the best bit. A soft bed…that didn’t try to throw me out of it. Within moments I was asleep.

In the morning my legs are still very wobbly and I keep threatening to fall over. I’ve been through customs and have had a few breakfasts. Hmm 11am almost time for brunch! Our cottage is on the hill with a clear view out over Falmouth Harbour and onward into the Atlantic. I have already caught myself gazing out at it and smiling a knowing smile to myself. I’ve just crossed that, in a rowing boat, on my own.

I will contine to keep blogging on a regular basis as I clear the boat out ready for shipping, relax, see Antigua and hear news about what’s going on but for now I’ll sign off by saying a huge thank you.

Thank you for reading the blog, thank you for being interested in what I’ve done and what I’m doing. Thank you for your support, encouragement, donations, belief in me, sponsorship, backing, humour, patience and love during this most incredible part of my life. I will of course do a proper thank you list soon but a huge thank you first to all the sponsors, especially to Stappard Howes: to Julian Wiggins, Peter Bridgeman and Harvey Bradnam. Without Stappard Howes’s support from 15 months ago this project would never have been able to happen.

Signing off for now in Antigua a very tired, hairy, hungry, satisfied, content and happy man.