O BROTHER, THAT’S OAR-SOME!
They’re the siblings who took on the Atlantic in a tiny boat – and won. And now the amazing MacLean boys are looking for their next epic challenge
IT is sublime, even surreal, what can be seen in the eye of the storm. ‘We were midAtlantic,’ says Jamie MacLean. ‘There were roaring winds; we were being buffeted by super squalls. It was powerful; it was awe-inspiring.
‘Then there was calm – blue skies. We were in the eye of the storm. The darkness had gone. Then a butterfly floated past the boat.’
The fluttering of tiny wings hundreds of miles from shore caused wonder and some agitation in Jamie and his brothers, Ewan and Lachlan. They did not know how long they had been rowing, but it had been weeks. They did not know precisely how far their aching arms had taken them, but they knew the task was ultimately to complete 3,000 miles. They knew what they had seen, but was it a hallucination?
‘We were warned beforehand that a mixture of great physical exercise and lack of sleep would play with our minds,’ says Jamie. ‘But there was something particularly strange about the butterfly. We all saw it. It may have been a hallucination but it was a group hallucination. We peered at each other with a sense of disbelief but were all sure what we had seen.’
The MacLeans are now safely berthed in Antigua, West Indies, after completing the Talisker Whisky Atlantic Challenge from La Gomera in the Canary Isles in a world record for a trio of 35 days, nine hours and nine minutes. It took 1,500,000 strokes, ten litres of water a day for each man and just short of 1,000 sheets of toilet paper.
The experience, though, shrugs off the bounds of mundane facts and figures. ‘We will never be the same,’ says Jamie.
The brothers began the trip on December 12 as three young adventurers. They ended it with a sense of serenity that submerged fatigue. T
HE intrepid crew deserves a formal introduction. Jamie, 26, and Lachlan, 21, are students of architecture and philosophy respectively. Ewan, 27, works for Dyson in Bristol and took a sabbatical to prepare for and complete the race.
They spent more than a month together on a 28ft boat in conditions that might be termed primitive. There were two pods for sleep and storage, a bucket for natural needs, and food that was basic but increasingly tasty.
Indeed, the three from Edinburgh only fell out in a Goldilocks moment. Jamie recalls: ‘We never really had any confrontations. The only moments of discord came over the breakfast. We became obsessed with food. Morning porridge was made in one big bowl and each of us had a third after a rowing session. There were some mild disagreements over who was taking the bigger third. It was a sort of “who’s been eating my porridge moment”.’ This is said with a smile provoked by completing an extraordinary challenge and the realisation something profound changed in him somewhere in the Atlantic.
‘Our bodies stood up very well,’ says Jamie. ‘There are the obvious sore hands and aches and pains but it was what comes from pushing your body to the limit that stays with me. Yes, there was the sleep deprivation and tiredness on another level but there was something spiritual too.’
The boat was rowed constantly, with the brothers having a crude but demanding shift system: two hours rowing, one hour sleep, 24 hours a day. There were breath-taking moments amid the slog. The boat glided between dolphins, over huge waves, under menacing and magnificent skies. Though the eyes feasted on nature in the raw, the mind fell prey to illusions.
‘There were some things that were obviously hallucinations,’ says Jamie. ‘Beautiful sunsets could play tricks on you with the dying light seeming to produce strange faces at the end of the boat. The oars slapping the water came to resemble the barking of dogs, at least for me, and I would search for them on the horizon. But I was always aware these were hallucinations or misperceptions. Part of my brain was able to process that truth.’
But something more profound was revealed. ‘There is a rhythm to the constant rowing that makes you focus on the moment,’ he says. ‘The most powerful aspect was the realisation if you put your body through hell, there comes a mental clarity that helps you appreciate life, savour it.’
The race started in San Sebastian, La Gomera. But the journey began in a croft in Sutherland at the start of the millennium. The brothers’
decision to launch themselves into the Atlantic had its origins in the waters off Nedd, around 50 miles north of Lochinver.
‘That is where we spent the summer holidays as a family,’ says Jamie. ‘My grandfather built this tiny wee cottage from bits and pieces, second-hand stuff, anything he could reclaim. We were up there as kids for six weeks with no phones, no TV. It was a wonderful time. We just ran about, jumping off cliffs, catching mackerel, playing in the pools on the beach.’
Crucially, too, there was a small dinghy the boys loved to go out in. The years passed and the Atlantic challenge hove into view. ‘I blame Lachlan,’ says Jamie, of his brother when he is asked what possessed the three siblings to enter a race without rowing experience. Our dad, Charlie, alerted Lachlan to it. Lachlan phoned me up, saying he was going to do it with a mate and would I make up the three.
‘But when Ewan heard that he said, “Not a chance. I am going. I don’t want to be sitting at Christmas dinners in the future and listening to you both going on about it”.’ That was 18 months ago. ‘It sort of snowballed from there,’ says Jamie. ‘We then became heavily involved in fundraising and training.’
It took more than £100,000 to get to the start line. Their boat alone is worth about £70,000. The brothers, though, hope to raise £250,000 for charity, including money raised by selling the boat.
A ‘dry run’ was made. Team Broar (Brothers’ Atlantic Row) rowed up the West Coast of Scotland, stopping at 16 distilleries. ‘Each distillery gave us at least 24 bottles of their product and my dad will blend it all into a whisky that will be called MacLean’s Pillage.’ (Charlie MacLean is a celebrated whisky expert and writer).
It was then off to the Canaries, from where the boat slid into Nelson’s Dockyard, Antigua, on Tuesday. There were cheers from friends and family and the skirl of the pipes from Jamie. ‘In Nedd, we were encouraged to take up music, particularly by our mother, Sheila, and it has stayed with us,’ he says. ‘At nights in the croft we would sing and play and we did that in the Atlantic.’
They completed a treble record: world record for a trio in the race, first brothers to row any ocean and first group to record in the Atlantic during a race. With Jamie on pipes, Ewan, a guitarist, on an eggshaker for percussion, and Lachlan, an accordionist, on penny whistle, the brothers recorded a song in a brief break from rowing. ‘I am not sure it is something anyone will want to listen to but we recorded it. Ewan set up a sort of tempo and we followed it.’
They now prepare for the difficult second album in terms of answering the question: how does a band of brothers follow something so life-changing and life-enhancing?
‘You go through a lot of emotions,’ says Jamie. ‘On the very first day of the race, the seas were heavy and the winds strong. I didn’t think I suffered from sea sickness, none of us did.
‘But I found myself projectile vomiting and lying in the bilges… But 30 days on, I am fine, never suffered any sea sickness after that and am determined to face another challenge. The only telling physical effect was losing a bit of weight.’
The trip also had the effect of bringing close brothers closer. ‘The strongest feeling is that we want to do other adventures together,’ says Jamie. ‘We have always been pretty fit and the physical preparation for the race was not a big problem. Another rowing challenge is certainly a possibility but what about climbing mountains or whatever? We are open to ideas. We were even spitballing ideas at sea.’
AS the oars flashed in and out of the water, the trio discussed making their lives an adventure. ‘It’s early days and we have just finished an immense challenge,’ says Jamie. ‘But wouldn’t it be marvellous if we could combine all our passions into a business, into something we could do full-time?’
The union of physical activity, music and food would be the ideal recipe. ‘There were times in the Atlantic when I appreciated what was important to me,’ he says. ‘It would be wonderful to focus on what I love.’
The idea of setting up a centre in Nedd that would bring all these elements together intrigues him. John Ridgway, who rowed across the North Atlantic in 1966 with Chay Blyth and later circumnavigated the globe in a yacht in 200304, set up an adventure school in Ardmore, also in Sutherland. It is now run by his daughter, Rebecca, and the MacLeans may take some inspiration from this.
‘I’ve learned so much about my passions and what they mean to me just by being at sea for so long,’ says Jamie. The chance to spread this benign gospel of developing one’s mental and spiritual life through physical challenge or merely embarking on physical adventure attracts him. He concedes this idea is not fully formed yet. ‘It might never be,’ he smiles. ‘But we have lots to think about.’
There is one element, however, left behind at sea. ‘You have a huge amount of doubt when you take on something like this but completing it banishes that,’ he says.
He and his brothers found a faith and fulfilment in the Atlantic. They will draw on that in the future. The past has the echoes of the pipes at sea, the enduring taste of porridge and the butterfly that will surely float until memory finally sinks.