Thursday 30th July- Day 35
- dawnysmiff
- Jul 30
- 2 min read

The last 24 hours have been a little slower, but progress is progress.
We covered 53 nautical miles, all in the right direction, so we’re certainly not complaining. In fact, it was a pretty pleasant day on the whole, with just a couple of scattered showers passing through.
After everything the Atlantic has thrown at us recently, I’ll happily take “pleasant.”
There were no wildlife visitors this time, but nature still put on a show.
The full moon continued to dominate the night sky, lighting up the ocean so brightly that it almost felt like rowing in daylight. As dawn approached, it lingered low above the western horizon before finally slipping beneath the sea just as the sun was rising in the east. Watching the moon set while the sun rose opposite it was a beautiful reminder that, even after 35 days at sea, the Atlantic can still surprise me.
The next couple of days are looking fairly settled, which should allow us to keep ticking off the miles.
Beyond that, however, our attention has already turned to the next weather system due to arrive on Saturday.
There’s nothing particularly dangerous about it, but it’s expected to bring a prolonged period of strong headwinds—winds that simply aren’t worth trying to row against.
Realistically, that means we’ll probably be back on the parachute anchor.
And this time…
…possibly for several days.
I won’t pretend that isn’t frustrating.
With less than 500 nautical miles to the UK coastline, under normal conditions we’d expect to be in coastal waters in well under ten days. Every spell on the parachute anchor pushes that moment a little further away.
But that’s ocean rowing.
You can’t control the weather.
You can only control how you respond to it.
People often ask how you deal with mental hurdles like this.
The answer is that you stop looking at the whole mountain.
If I sat here thinking, “We’re going to lose several days… we’re still hundreds of miles from home… what if another weather system arrives after this one?” it would be overwhelming.
So I don’t.
Instead, I focus on what’s directly in front of me.
Can I make the next good decision?
Can I row the next shift as well as I can?
Can I make the most of today’s conditions instead of worrying about tomorrow’s?
If the answer is yes, then that’s enough.
Every ocean crossing eventually becomes a series of small, manageable challenges rather than one enormous one. Before you know it, another day has passed, another few miles have disappeared behind you, and you’re one step closer to home.
It doesn’t make the frustration disappear…
…but it stops it from taking over.
There is, however, one problem that may genuinely be serious.
I’m becoming increasingly convinced that I haven’t packed enough chocolate.
Now that could be a proper emergency!
Dawn
“Together Paul and I are rowing home — the long way round.”
Hometown Row
📩 You can have Dawn’s blogs delivered directly to your inbox here:
🌐 Or visit the website:





Comments