BBC Newsline

Saturday 8th August- Monday 10th August, Ballycastle, County Antrim

By lunchtime on Friday the wind has died, and we are being overtaken by seagulls floating in the water off Donegal. Tory Island refuses to get smaller, and Malin Head remains a distant hazy outline. For some it is frustrating being this close to home but going nowhere fast. But tall ships operate on their own time, dictated by the wind and currents.

A BBC crew which has gone to Ballycastle to film our arrival chases around the coast trying to spot us out at sea. Fellow trainee Alistair gets a text from his parents saying they have booked a table for dinner in Ballycastle at 7 - will he be there? "No" is the brief response. So I was too hasty in believing that Thursday would be the last full day sailing, and we spend another night out at sea.

My link for my final live on board ship for BBC Newsline breaks up as we spin around in the still waters, and the mast keeps blocking the satellite signal. We make numerous attempts to re-establish the line but it keeps dropping out again, causing pandemonium in the tv studio.

So while we get a link in the mid Atlantic, a few miles off shore defeats us. I do get the strongest mobile phone signal I have ever head in Donegal though.

When I wake on Saturday morning, Tory Island has been replaced by Rathlin Island, opposite Ballycastle. But it soon becomes clear that our course is taking us directly towards the western lighthouse and not around the island so we are going to have to gybe, which means moving sails to change course. Captain Klaas rings three bells to get all hands on deck - but some in white watch who have overindulged the night before arrive late at their stations. Anchor watch for them tonight!

As the lighthouse looms larger, Klaas steps towards the helm and I hand him a cookie. The captain has been murdered! We have been playing a game for the last few days where we have been given a name, a place and a weapon - a bit like Cluedo. I killed my first victim, Roisin, with a barking toy dog in the mermaid (the ladies head/toilet), much to her shock having just woken up to go on lookout duty at 1am, and finding the BBC man lurking in the ladies loo! The dead Captain Klaas informs the crew that the timing of my crime could have been better, but we succeed in turning the ship around before hitting any rocks.

We spend the rest of the morning sailing back along the Antrim coast towards the Giants Causeway. We change tack again, the wind picks up, and we are able to proceed under full sail into Ballycastle Bay. It is quite a spectacle and after our long journey it is a fitting way to arrive; the captain is right to have insisted we don't use the engines even if it means we could have arrived here earlier.

Already there are 2 tall ships in the harbour and the arrival of Europa attracts a large crowd on shore. Among them are my wife and 15 month old daughter Annie, and by now the inevitable BBC camera crew.

Within minutes we are joined by well-wishers, and people tell me they have been following our journey and wanting to know if the storms were as bad as the pictures in my reports. I have been told that everyone is talking about tall ships, but the welcome I receive in Ballycastle is overwhelming.

 It really does seem to have caught people's imagination, and they tell me they have appreciated following such a positive story on the news. Alice and Colin supply us with enough ice cream for the entire crew - a gesture which is greatly appreciated since blue watch finished the last tub several weeks ago! If this is the welcome in Ballycastle, what will it be like when we get to Belfast?

My family are invited onboard Europa for a celebration BBQ. Annie is fascinated by "Daddy's ship" and she melts the hearts of my crew mates. I am temporarily abandoning ship to enjoy the comforts of a bed on solid ground (and without any snorers in the room). We leave the partying to continue long into the night and head back to the harbour, with Europa silhouetted against the backdrop of Fair Head as the sun sets. The perfect end to a perfect day.

Sunday is spent relaxing along the Antrim coast. The Northern Ireland trainees show some of the trainees from other countries the local attractions including the Giants Causeway and Bushmills whiskey distillery.

 I spend some time on Portstewart Strand and shopping for clean clothes. People are still coming up to talk to me about the trip. They ask "are you the boy off the tall ships" and "what were you doing crying off that island." (When they see me with Annie they realise why). One lady tells me that her husband who spent many years at sea had a tear in his eye as he watched.

One of my twitter followers makes me laugh with the following tweet from Friday: Sat-phone link to BBC NI's Julian Fowler goes down *again*. Enjoyed his emotional reaction to sighting land, though. Sounded slightly drunk. Thanks jayteebee - I may have been "tired and emotional" but I had had only about 6 hours sleep over the previous 48 hours, and at 7am I was definitely not drunk!

My "moment" does seem to have greatly amused my colleagues in the newsroom who insist on replaying it on air at every opportunity. I suppose it makes up for their disappointment when I didn't get seasick.

On Monday we get the chance to catch up with the Tecla girls, fellow trainees from Northern Ireland who we'd last seen in Halifax. They tell us that they too have had an amazing time. We celebrate our last night in Ballycastle with a meal in the town.

They have been very hospitable and generous hosts and we have all really enjoyed our time here. The crew and trainees have been made to feel like local celebrities, being recognised from my television reports, and people wanting to talk to them about their experiences. The tall ships look perfectly at home in the harbour, and remind some locals of the days when tall ships were once berthed here. Some of you may have heard that 2 of our crew were attacked as we returned to the ship after dinner on shore. Just to say we are all ok and we won't let the actions of one idiot spoil the occasion.

Tuesday 11th August Ballycastle to the Isle of Muck, off Islandmagee.

We weigh anchor and set sail once more at noon. The French ships Belle Poule and Etoile have left before us. Europa gives them a send off with three blasts on the horn. By the time we are ready, Rathlin lsland and Fair Head are shrouded in cloud and mist, and the trainees are in full oilskins to protect them from a steady drizzle as they raise halyards and pull on sheets.

The Antrim coast remains murky as we progress slowly towards Belfast Lough. There is a bit of a subdued atmosphere aboard to match the dull weather. We had been warned by the permanent crew that once we had been ashore, life on board wouldn't quite be the same. Many of the trainees spend the day sleeping in their bunks - recovering from shore leave. Others are contemplating the end of the journey as they tuck in to coffee and traybakes - cakes which I brought on board from a bakery in Ballycastle.

The crew carry out jobs around the ship to prepare her for Belfast. There is no watch system for the short journey so it almost seems we lack a purpose without the order and discipline we have become used to. The winds are light so we don't make very fast progress.

The captain decides we will anchor just past the entrance to the port of Larne at the amusingly named Isle of Muck - a bird sanctuary off the coast of Islandmagee. And for those of you who have been following our obsession with chocolate - there's a treat in store tonight. It's Mike the bosun's birthday - so we are treated to chocolate cake with lots of chocolate sauce.

This was to be our last night at sea.