The day begins at the crack of dawn, or a bit before, time to be towed to Totnes, bacon butty in hand.

The Dart is in a mellow mood, wisps of mist float over the calm water as we putter past Kiln Gate, Dittisham, Galmpton. At Stoke Gabriel a V of Canada Geese fly fast and low across our bows, close enough to hear the beat of their wings. Where are they off to?

Approaching Totnes a flotilla of fine boats are out, apparently rowed by young athletes, practicing for the race, not intimidating at all.

We arrive, good news the 92 brought the crew too. In an empty club house there’s not much sign of fellow competitors until the young athletes return from practice and surround us, it’s like being in a forest of tall thin, but muscular, trees. Not intimidating at all.

Down to business, it’s safety briefing time, which way round which buoy to not be disqualified, must remember. Ok and don’t turn right up the dead end to Tuckenhay, good advice, that would be too embarrassing.

To the boat. Two other boats in our class (Seine Boats) some big name rowers, lots of experience. Not intimidating….

It’s a rolling start and we’re first away, quickly slip into a smooth rhythm, 90 minutes of rowing ahead, a marathon not a sprint but hey the stroke wants to row at 28, the crew are perfectly in sync, so let’s roll. [See video link HERE].

15 minutes fly by, Cox hasn’t stopped talking. We’ve not been overtaken, looking good, stroke still steady at 28, strong on the catch, off the legs, big clean puddles, looking good.

Half an hour in. Still not been passed. Stroke still steady at 28, boat’s running well, went the right way round the marker buoy (just), on course, feeling good. Cox still talking.

An hour has flown by. Wtf, where is everybody? We’ve still not been passed. Rowing as a crew; timing timing, timing, long and strong, eyes in the boat. Cox still talking.

Rounding Flat Owers, time to snatch a glance behind, take a second look, a third. No, definitely not in danger of being caught. “Awesome effort rowers, your smashing it”, an emotional moment.

Approaching the Anchorstone. Ease down crew, save energy for a late challenge? No, don’t want to? Ok, 28 it is, lean back, straight arms on the catch, drive it away.

There’s the finish line, toot goes the hooter, and we’re over it…. first, don’t think Hilary can believe his eyes.

Cox stops talking, at last, crew gasp a few words ‘great effort’, ‘brilliant job’, ‘loved that’, and it’s time for a celebratory pint in the DARC Clubhouse.

PS: Five minutes or so later 8 young athletes power across the line, not intimidating at all!

Thank you Keith and Sian for getting up early, towing to Totnes, and taking some great photos and videos.

Anyone up for Head of the Dart 2025?