04/10/2026
I remember very well following Damian's daily travails on his solo row from NY to Galway. It's hard to believe it's been four years. I often look at this inspiring photo on my wall (thank you Emjcamera and Damian) and my mind is still boggled by this incredible feat!
4 years ago today I crawled through the rockpools and seaweed of the Co. Galway shoreline near Furbo.
After 4 indescribably difficult months at sea, my expedition was finally over.
You probably imagine I was feeling a sense of relief, perhaps even accomplishment, but those emotions were far from my reality.
I felt nothing but failure.
The pain of this perspective, albeit short lived, brought me to thinking deeply about what was truly important about the challenge I had set myself.
Was it what I missed out on? - the big emotional finish in the place I had focused so much energy and effort trying to get to, Galway Dock.
Or was it what the experience had left in me?
My reflections had rich rewards, with a total shift in perspective of what success really is.
I had self imposed this immense challenge of attempting to row a small boat across the unforgiving North Atlantic from New York to Galway because genuine challenge presents you with opportunities to evolve as a human.
I had taken so many of those opportunities when nobody was looking.
You’re 65 days into an expedition you thought would take 55 and you still have over 1000 miles to go. The 3.30am alarm rings through the dark. My senses immediately pick up the wildness of the conditions outside. It’s never not a scary compilation to crawl out into that. Where I am right now, curled up in a semi dry sleeping bag is the cosiest I will be all day. It’s genuinely warm and dare I say - lovely. It’ll be 24 hours until I’m here again. Every excuse in the book appears in my mind to stay put. There’s nanoseconds where the internal resistance feels like it’s hijacked every cell in my body and resolve is futile.
Before I know it I’m pulling on yesterday’s wet undershorts, wet t-shirt, a wet mid layer, wet foulies and clipping in on deck for 2 hours of rowing before breakfast. In one hour the dawn will break on the horizon and all will be better.
Day after day, like a machine, I did this. Sitting here today typing this in my kitchen, it seems almost unbelievable to me now.
Continued in comments….
