Our hands are sore and the first blisters begin to appear. We have not yet rowed very much – an hour and half today – but after a year’s break from the Sea Stallion’s heavy oars, our hands need to work up to it. A few blisters are nothing to complain about. Soon the skin will harden and prepared for longer stretches of rowing.
As I write, we have finished rowing for the day and are getting ready to raise the sail again. We left Wicklow at noon, but have not made much progress. With an average speed of 3.5 knots and a strong current, the ship has been difficult to steer and the sail has hung like a limp dishcloth on the mast. Before our evening meal, Portsmouth was 88 hours away, but now the wind is picking up. We are not breaking any records, but hope to catch up a few miles in the course of the night.
The sun is just beginning to show and the first brave aft hands have already stopped wearing their woollens. Amidships, we are still wearing headgear and rainwear. The aftship is known as the ‘sun deck’, while the shadow and down draft from the 112-square-metre sail creates a rather different weather situation midship and forward.
We left Wicklow with thousands of impressions and feelings – with the arrival of the Sea stallion, the little coastal town could turn time back 1000 years to when fleets of Viking ships could be seen in the distance. The Vikings came to the area then as enemies, but we were welcomed and it was clear that the Mayor, Harbour Master, sailing club members and the town’s children were all proud to receive a visit from the Sea Stallion.
We have four days’ voyage and a lot of night watches in front of us. Our woollens are packed at the top of our kit bags and our heads have switched over from land to sea. Over the next few days, we can look forward to cold, lack of sleep, seasickness, rowing, and an exciting sail round Lands End. We have enormous respect for the area and know the Celtic Sea is not to be trifled with.