By LACHLAN

Sunday 20 March 202; 1,119 days to go. 

As we approached the summit that we'd been steadily climbing, Jamie stopped. 'What about a full Pacific row . . . a non-stop and unsupported crossing?'

Little did Jamie know, but this had crossed both Ewan's and my minds already. 'Yeah, I was looking at that the other day,' I replied, stopping beside him. 'I don't think a team's done it non-stop and unsupported. But it's a fair old distance. You'd be talking five or six months at sea.'

The idea struck a chord.

The journey spanned 8,000 to 9,000 miles of some of the most remote ocean on the planet, equivalent to travelling from Scotland to Western Australia. It wasn't clear whether a non-stop and unsupported crossing would be possible for a team of three.

'Half a year at sea, shark attacks, treacherous weather and a high chance of failure. Sounds great, doesn't it?' I said with a smirk as I pinpointed the roof of our refuge for the night. 'Maybe that's an idea for the backburner?'

As we strolled down the final mile of track, conversation moved on to other things. But there was something about the idea that had captured our imaginations. It was the thing we thought about as we lay in our beds at night, sat on the toilet or stood in the shower. It niggled at our minds, like something stuck between our teeth. No matter how hard we tried to forget about it, the idea wouldn't dislodge.

The flint had produced a spark.