Possibly the biggest dilemma to face ocean rowers is not what route to take or how much to row; rather, it is the simple question of whether to beard or not.

Now, bearding (just in case I end up in Guadeloupe, I’d better get some practice in. It’s really very simple: je beard, tu beard, il/elle beard, nous beardons, vous beardez, ils/elles beardent) can’t be taken lightly. You only have to casually listen in on conversations to hear tales of itching and frankly embarrassing growth to explain.

I was all gung-ho about it, and all set to cultivate my own little forest. But, at the last minute, I got cold feet, requiring a last-minute dash to the shop to buy some shaving equipment to take with me. But it was still just a back-up.

Over the first few weeks, I gradually felt my face get fuzzier and fuzzier. Not having a mirror around, my only option was to take a photo of myself and look at the results. Well, I stuck with it, working through the tough times, to get to the point where, over 70 days later, I have a beard I can be proud of.

Although I’m still yet to master the art of storing food in it for later consumption (I sometimes try a hopeful lick or two), I reckon that, if I wanted, I could probably tie my mouth shut with it. Quite why I’d want to, I’m not entirely sure, but it’s nice to know I’ve got the option should the right situation arise. Sadly, I fear it will not survive 12 hours on land. This is a creature that has only known life at sea, and I think it would be cruel to force it to adapt to a world it just isn’t prepared for. I will certainly mourn its passing.

Probably should mention the rowing now. The weather is still keeping behind me. It’s taken its time (10 weeks!), but the weather I want has finally arrived. I’m not quite going as fast as I’d like, but it should get even stronger over the next 24 hours, to the point where it might get a little terrifying. If it was anything but right behind me, I’d be crying myself to sleep but, as it is, it couldn’t be better! Still, for some reason, I just can’t get the boat moving well. I was going significantly faster on flat water with no wind, which is incredibly frustrating.

The downside is that I get jostled around a lot. My bum is incredibly painful now, to the point where barely a minute goes by without a very audible shriek, often containing less than polite language, but the rest of me is surviving for now. Except for my stomach. I can’t tell if it’s constantly hungry, or if I’m feeding it too much, but it’s not feeling right. Maybe it’s just looking forward to some real food. I know I am!