Holmes Tori - Crossing the swell: an Atlantic journey by rowboat

To all our sponsors, especially Appleton Capital Management, we would like to say a big thank you. This trip would not have happened without your generous support. Thanks also to Fyffes, Irish Life, Vivas Health, Cornmarket Group Financial Services, Devon Town Council, Westwood Health & Fitness Clubs, Dun Laoghaire Marina, Artizan Design Studio, Nisku Rotary Club, Osborne Recruitment and also The Irish Times for chronicling our trip.

Tori

I would like to thank my family for all their support: to my father, Tom, for giving me the mental strength to row an ocean, and my mother, Fran, for always giving me emotional stability and being my rock. To my brother, Clayton: thank you for always believing in me even when it did not make sense, and to my Auntie Peg for inspiring me to push limits and acknowledge the world. To Jeannine MacAlpine: thank you for always being there for me at the drop of a hat. To our roommates and dear friends Daragh Brehon and Miriam Walsh: thank you for getting us to the start line, and to all our other friends along the way who took a chance on us: thank you. To Eamonn and Peter Kavanagh: thank you for believing in us. Most people would have dismissed the idea of two non-rowers wanting to row across an ocean, but you didnt, and I thank you for this. To Liam, thank you for all your help, patience and supreme guidance on this book. It has been an absolute pleasure working with you. In RMB we found enthusiastic allies. My biggest thanks go to Paul for sharing this experience with me, for pushing me to my limits and believing I could row across this ocean. Most of all I thank Paul for the unconditional love he has given me.

Paul

Although Tori and I were the ones out on the ocean, an adventure like this doesnt happen without the help and support of many people. First, to Eamonn and Peter Kavanagh, thank you just doesnt seem enough, but Ill say it anyway. Thank you very much for all your guidance, wisdom and support, and for having the faith to lend us your boat, Christina , to use in the race. We would not have got to the starting line, let alone completed the crossing, without your help.

To my parents, Bert and Lourdes, thank you from the bottom of my heart for putting up with me and supporting me on this adventure. I know over the years I have caused you many a sleepless night, and probably a few grey hairs, but your support kept me going in my darkest hours. To my sister, Audrey, thank you for standing behind me on this; you are the most selfless and supportive person I know and I am proud to have you as my sister.

I would like to thank all my friends who helped us out in so many ways leading up to the row, especially Donagh Nolan, whose straight-talking and organizational skills were needed at crucial times, and to Daragh Brehon and Miriam Walsh, who were there for us throughout our preparations. By virtue of the fact that we live together, I suppose you had no choice, but thank you for being so understanding and supportive. And finally and most important, thank you, Tori: your strength, courage and determination were immense and inspirational throughout the row, and I feel so fortunate to have shared so many wonderful adventures and experiences with such a special person.

Liam

This book, a little like the Atlantic crossing that inspired it, sometimes seemed an unlikely project. A series of Irish Times articles were small first steps. But could a working relationship built up through often patchy satellite phone calls thrive as the three of us chronicled Paul and Toris adventures in book form? Like the row, the dream took wing. And, like the row, the credit lies with the two people whose story you are about to read. They are a remarkable couple: determined, inspirational and great fun.

Personally, I would like to thank my family for their support and patience. My children, Peter and Anna, are little bundles of joy who showed a surprising talent for quietness. Their mother, Suzanne, was calming and encouraging. She is the light of our lives.

This book is dedicated to the memory of Lynda Cantrell.

Fifty-foot Waves

Day 36, January 4, 2006

Tori

In the past week we had been at the mercy of Mother Nature and discovered she has no mercy. I wrote in my diary on December 29, How low can you go? We had no water and then devastating amounts of water. And we came through.

We were two non-rowers who took on rowing the Atlantic; a student and a financial adviser who became adventurers. Could our relationship survive? Could we get across the Atlantic? Through these days the question was simpler: would we live or die?

Our water-maker started to fail on us. It went from producing 16 litres of water in an hour to none. Not long after Christmas, our satellite phone had run out of credit, and the phone companys head office was closed for the holidays. So we could not ring the water-maker technician to sort it out. The filters looked a little brown. We convinced ourselves this was the problem and took the water-maker apart to get at the filters, which were screwed into a plastic container. All we would have to do is open the container, replace the filters, and that would be the end of our problems.

Unfortunately, nothing in this row was ever that straightforward. The bloody plastic container would not open. We spent about 30 minutes trying to open the container before I remembered a rhyme my dad had taught me as a child when I would help him build his motorcycles: Tighty righty, lefty loosey. We had been turning the container as hard as we possibly couldin the wrong direction. I sat there trying to open the container with all my might, fearing I would thirst to death if we could not open it. After a month and a half at sea, my hands were like those of an 80-year-oldthey just would not work. It was strange to be surrounded by water and be so thirsty, to have a fear we might die of thirst. I remember wishing the water-maker was broken with a problem out of our control because if we were to die due to being too weak to open this bloody container it would feel like we had been subjected to the most evil torture.

This led to one of our major meltdowns. Dehydration really started to affect our coping skills. We lay on the deck of our small boat trapped in the ocean and just sobbed. At that moment I was the tiny child who had been denied what she most wanted. I really believed my world was coming to an end.

We had fresh water on board but it was ballastand, under the rules of the race, once we broke into it we would be penalized. We decided to continue rowing, limiting ourselves to five litres of water a day. This was truly torturous. We rowed for two hours in the blistering heat, allowing ourselves less than one-eighth of a litre (were talking sips here) per shift. All I wanted to do was grab the whole bottle and chug it down. The inside of my mouth was like a desert. With every sip I could feel it rush through my body. For a few seconds I would have renewed strength, not just in the body but, most important, in the mind. After those few seconds of bliss, I came crashing down, already waiting till the hour passed so that I could have another sip.

Because we had so little water, we also had to sacrifice meals. We just ate biscuits and energy bars. We could have cooked using seawater, but you can get quite ill from that, so we decided against it, at least in the short term.

Our spirits started to suffer. Emotionally, mentally and physically we were slowly breaking down from the inside out. We had no water to drink, or for sanitation and washing. Just when we thought it could not get any worse, I developed a kidney infection as a result of not drinking enough water to flush the bacteria out of my system. How do you get rid of a kidney infection? Same way as you prevent itdrink water. Since that was not possible, I took antibiotics for three days and the infection eventually cleared.