In addition to training together we would try and sit all relevant exams and tests together. You need you RYA Ocean Master Theory Certificate to enter the race. We did ours in Southampton and took a week of work so we could do it as a team. We organized the course through Woodvale (the race organizers) so everyone else on the course were fellow competitors, which made it more enjoyable. The qualification itself is fairly pointless. It would be far better to complete a Coastal Skipper course where you learn about the basics of nav and other useful nautical elements. Ocean Masters is all about navigating using the stars, it’s very advanced and not really that practical for our needs, however Spanish Authorities stipulate it has to be the Ocean Masters, and as the race starts in their waters, we had no choice.

There are other 1-day courses that are required, e.g. Safety at Sea and First Aid at Sea. As two of us lived in London and the other two lived in the midlands we ended up sitting these courses individually or in pairs.

We also had to do most of our training as individuals. We tried to keep the routeens similar (we did an hr or so of weights in the morning before work then and hr or two on the rowing machine in the evenings after work). We would set different rowing challenges on the rowing machines then email our times around the following morning. It made us feel more like we were training together.

Other individual tasks were also broken down. One of the lads took responsibility for all food and nutrition, another guy managed the build of the boat (including the shipping of it to the start line and back from the finish), another area was creation of marketing materials to help publicise our expedition and raise money both for us and the charity. There is a staggering amount of equipment outlined in the race rules so obtaining this was another task. We would all help each other out where possible but ultimately one person would be responsible for managing each area. We had weekly conference calls to discuss progress and were in regular contact via email.

We shipped the boat out to La Gomera about one month before we arrived out there in Nov. We got there 2 weeks before the start and although the boat was fairly well prepared we needed every minute to get everything ready. Before the start the race organizers check all boats to make sure every piece of required kit is onboard. They have some fairly stringent requirements and if you’re missing kit or certain bits of equipment are not stored in the correct place then they have the right to pull you out of the race. The time in La Gomera gave us a good chance to meet the other competitors (some for the first time). There is a bar in the town that ocean rowers have traditionally gone to party in the evenings. Our crew had been off the booze for a few months before the race so it was even more enjoyable to get drunk with the other competitors. The two weeks before the start passed quickly, it was hectic but we got there.

When I think about the morning of race day, I still feel the nerves to some degree. The culminations of 1 yrs preparation was coming to fruition and there was a strong feeling of stepping into the unknown. No matter how much practice we had done, we knew it would be nothing like the real thing. I opened my hotel room door to one of my team mates blowing raspberries and pretending to sh1t his pants, it summarized how I felt quite accurately.

The boat had been lifted into the water a couple of days before. We spend the morning tweaking the boat and frantically reading the manuals on how to operate the nav / gps before being told to head to the start.

Again, just writing about this 3 yrs later, is bringing back some of the excitement and anticipation I felt on the day. As we pulled the boat through the harbour to the start line we felt pretty special. Just before when all 28 boats were out are ready to go it was a spectacular site.

The gun went and we were off. It doesn’t exactly look like the stat of a grand prix as we were moving along at about 3 knts, but even so it’s a magical thing to be part of. Although it’s a race, we all understood that in a few hrs all the boats would be out of site against each other and it would almost become an endurance test for each individual crew. With that in mind there is a string sense of friendship between the crews and we would shout messages of good luck to anyone in earshot.

After a couple of hrs, although land was clearly in site and would be until the afternoon of the next day, the excitement of the start fell away and we looked to what lay ahead. We got straight into the shift patterns and tried to adopt our routine as soon as possible. We had decided to use a rather unique shift pattern, we did 1hr on 1 hr off during the day, 2hrs on 2hrs off during the night with 1.5hr shifts in between. We had reasons for this, basically during the day it was so hot that rowing for more than an hr was exhausting, but we needed the longer shifts at night to get some sort of sleep. Other crews did 2hrs on 2hrs off round the clock. Some did 2hrs on 2hrs off during the day and 4hrs on 4hrs off at night, it’s personal, and you’ll have to work it out for yourself.

On a four boat 2 crew can share the front cabin and 2 share the back (on a 2 there is only one cabin at the back). I was in the front cabin to start with (although every 10 days we swapped cabins and rowing partners to mix it up a bit – I would highly recommend this) and both myself and the Tom who was sharing the cabin with me were quite seasick (the two guys in the back cabin seemed ok). Luckily one of the race organizers had told us to eat peaches for the first couple of days as they taste as good coming back up as they do when you eat them, which is actually true.

The first couple of days were a bit of a baptism of fire with some terrible weather and storms. We were constantly washed off our seats and battered by waves. We heard that on one of the first two nights one guy on a two man crew was washed overboard. Just by chance his partner happened to come up on deck, and realizing what had happened, rescued him. That crew actually pulled out after that.

I won’t go into too much detail about the race, or I’ll end up writing a book here. That said there are a few books out there by ocean rowers. I read the one by James Cracknel and Ben Fogel and I would recommend this to anyone attempting this challenge, it gives a great insite into what to expect (http://www.benfogle.com/books/the-crossing). Roz Savage, a very accomplished Ocean Rower also has a book that you should read (http://www.rozsavage.com/contents/rowing-the-atlantic-book/) You’ll pick up all kinds of tips from reading about other peoples adventures.

To summarize our race, we took the option of going South to try and find the trade winds. If you can get into these winds you benefit from a strong tail wind that helps blow you across. We went the farthest south by miles, which initially put us quite far down the fleet (as most others were following the more westerly ‘rumb line’ heading more directly towards the finish line). We waited in vain for the Trade Winds to appear; in fact they never did appear so we went a long way out of our way for nothing. We got into our routens, we rowed hard and very rarely stopped (on days when it was extremely hot 40 degree plus, we allow ourselves 10 mins in the water to cool down at midday, we also jupped in every couple of days to clean the bottom of the boat, otherwise it would get covered in ‘pollips’ little plants that open out like a parachute at dusk which makes you feel like you’re rowing through treacle. We carried on throughout Christmas Day and NY Day (some crews chose to take these days off and relax but we didn’t really see the point – we wanted to just get there). We started clawing our way up the fleet until on day we found ourselves in first place. Obviously before the start we wanted to do well, but this was a great feeling and very motivating.

Our crossing like all others was a mixture of beautiful weather, extreme heat, storms, lighting, stunning sunrises and sunsets, extreme exhaustion, narrow misses of container ships, repetitive food and all of the other things that go to make the experience the best and worst thing I’ve ever done. We all suffered from sours on our backsides, some worse than others. One guys was consuming vast amounts of Tramadol (morphine based pain killer) by the end of the race as he felt like he was sitting on hot coals. He was the biggest guy in our crew. Quite often the bigger guys het the worse sores as they have more weight pressing down on their seat.

As we neared the end it looked more and more likely that we would win. It was a great feeling and probably motivated us to row hard right to the end. The first site of land was incredible. It was at night and we saw lights on the horizon. It was then just a case of hanging on.

We eventually crossed the line at around 11am the following morning. The race organizer came and lead us into English Harbour in Atigua. As we rowed through the harbour all of the boats moored there started letting of horns and there were crowds lining the shores all cheering. It was quite an incredible feeling.

As I said at the start I would recommend this adventure to anyone. It isn’t something I would necessarily repeat (but some people do), but it’s great to have done it once. The feeling of crossing the line was unlike anything else I’ve experienced, truly special. The words above are just designed to give you an overview of what we went through to get to the finish, but to write about everything in details would require a lot more time. If you’re thinking about rowing an Ocean, then I can’t recommend it highly enough.