Early June is the month you leave New York to row to England. 5 days ago was the 114th anniversary George Harbo and Frank Samuelson began their row. It is also the day after the 4-year anniversary that Greg, Dylan, Brad and myself rowed the same rout. Although I have felt a kinship to these men that came before us I never expected our paths to intersect beyond the reading of their history.
The Friday before the opening day of boating season in Seattle was sunny – indicative that the actual day of the event was likely to be overcast true to its 90-year tradition. Two men and a boy stepped cautiously from the temporary dock out side to Seattle Yacht Club into our ocean rowboat. 
Although not strangers to boats, this was the first time they had ever been on a craft like this. They were Victor, Tom and his son Tor. Their last name was Samuelson and they were the great grandchildren of Frank Samuelson.
Tom lives here in Seattle and Victor is an expat Norwegian living in New York. They had found me through the Norwegean consulate, an organization of which I am not sure how I am related. Regardless, and much to my pleasure they found me.
I was surprised at their initial hesitation at stepping in the boat. Its small, but nearly 11 feet longer than the boat their ancestor took 114 years ago. Victor was tall, dark, robustly built, and dressed business casual. Tom, lighter but stout and less robust in build looked like he would be quite comfortable on any kind of workboat. His son, Tor wore jeans and a t-shirt and wore his long blond hair down like his father. He had the look of young boy who had been hanging out all day with relatives so I put him to work rowing the boat. Young children are anomalies when it comes to rowing. With no preconceives notions of how it should work or an adults desire to over think they seem to possess an innate ability to pull a boat around naturally. Tor certainly had the pedigree. His few strokes on the oar were strained but his face belied a bit of incredulity that despite his small size he had the ability haul myself, his father, second cousin, my teammate Rick and his friend on a 29 ft boat. It is an easy boat to row. I wondered what his great grandfather would have felt about our boat. Over a hundred years the history of something I love had hunted me down, and that is a rarity. I felt lucky and hopefully the three Samuelsens felt the same.