Still at Sharpness, for another two weeks

I am baking ship's biscuits and salting the horsemeat in preparation for our voyage to take Heroine back to where she was made, for a huge renovation. As the crow flies, it's not far, but from Sharpness Dock in Gloucestershire to Eyemouth in Scotland is about eight hundred miles by sea, whichever way you go. For a sea-novice like me, experience of long journeys on ferries even in rough seas is no help when navigating yourself through the whirlpools of Corryvrekan, the huge tidal movements of the Severn and at the same nursing along an ancient engine that has steamed the equivalent of going around the world 50 times since new.

The boat is a 35-year-old, 22 metre trawler, built for fishing in the Shetland Islands and so had to be made strong ; massive oak frames and inches-thick larch planking. Walking around down in the fish-hold feels like being inside the Victory, except we have loads more head room and fewer cannons. There is something very reassuring about the tree-thick oak curving around like a medieval barn, except upside down, but the holes in the deck and the wheel house that you can actually see through are disconcerting. All of this is through the eyes of the non-seafarer; I have had to put my faith in my co-owner's experience and abilities, without him this adventure would not happen. However, without me, his bacon sandwiches wouldn't happen.