And they're off...

We set off from Ulverston at 8am this morning. Three of us and all our kit for two months jammed in a car with Ronan perched on the top. I find myself buffeted by mixed emotions, sadness at leaving, concern for those behind; nerves about the trip and my health while excited about the people we'll meet and the things we’ll do.

This trip is not an escape bid, I am privileged to love my family, friends and home… yet the call still abides.

John Masefield's poem captures something…

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.