Stein Hoff, a Norwegian who began his rowing career on the Clyde at Glasgow Green, will row himself into the record books later today when he gently guides his 21ft boat into the mouth of the Demerara River in Georgetown, Guyana.

It's a journey that began 97 days ago, 3774 miles away in Lisbon, when Dr Hoff, 57, embarked on his attempt to become the first person to row from Europe to South America. "It's been a fantastic experience," he told The Herald yesterday by satellite telephone from the cockpit of his boat, Star Atlantic II, as he prepared for his last night at sea.

Hoff's passion for rowing began in the 1970s when he captained Glasgow University Boat Club, on the Clyde at Glasgow Green. It's still there. So is his friend and rival George Parsonage, of Glasgow Humane Society, the oldest practical life-saving body in the world. He has rescued hundreds of drowning people and recovered many bodies from the city's rivers.

One of the first e-mails congratulating Hoff on his achievement will come from Parsonage who, from his home beside the boat house on Glasgow Green, has followed Hoff's historic row on a daily basis.

"This is a stunning piece of endurance and watermanship. I salute his bravery because, like me, Stein Hoff knows exactly what the sea can do to you. I know I couldn't have done it," says Parsonage.

The two met in 1970 when Hoff was a medical student and Parsonage an art student. "There was a group of Norwegians over to study. They were an extraordinary revelation in Scottish rowing. They were competitive and brought a new dedication to the sport," says Parsonage.

In the three intervening decades, Hoff has travelled to nearly every corner of the globe. His journeys have included sailing round the world with his Glaswegian wife, Diana, and their two children - they had a third baby on the way - and several Atlantic crossings in the 1997 double-handed rowing race. In January 2000 it was Stein Hoff's turn to stand on the quayside in Barbados as his wife took 113 days to become the first Scotswoman to row the Atlantic. The previous year their daughter, Elisabeth, had attempted the trip but had to be rescued after her boat (the first Star Atlantic) capsized and failed to right itself during a storm 10 days out from the Canaries.

Why do they do it? "Several reasons," says Stein Hoff. "For me, it's the desire to do something monumental, something nobody else has done. Also, I love the sea and being alone at sea. There's an illusion of freedom. It's funny, but if you asked me what I've enjoyed most, I'd say being on my own, but if you asked what was the worst thing, I'd say the same. I wanted to show that because you're pushing 60 it's no reason for not taking on a big adventure."

"There's more leisure time than you get at home. I've read everything from Martin Luther King's autobiography to Playboy - that was a present from my wife, by the way!"

Each day he has tuned in to the news on Norwegian radio as well as the BBC. "I listened with shocked fascination. The Americans are power mad. I'm sure most people don't want them to invade Iraq."

Though there wasn't room for his clarinet, he has enjoyed playing the recorder during the trip, between singing Norwegian folksongs and opera. A lot of time was taken up with routine maintenance: "One little failure can make the difference between success and failure, so I spent hours checking things like bolts, joints, and nuts."

He knows the seven-metre plywood boat better than anyone. He built it himself. It's designed with plenty of ballast in the bottom, so that, provided the hatches are closed, it will self-right in the event of a capsize. There is a small desalination plant and solar panels to recharge the batteries. He was able to sleep for several hours each night in the tiny cabin, getting up regularly to check for shipping.

How did he profit from past mistakes? "This time I made the oar handles thinner and covered them in rubber, so my hands are in a better state. By putting more ballast in the stern, the boat steered itself well provided the wind was from the aft. Also I ate well this time. Diana provisioned the boat beautifully. There were 200 freeze-dried dinners and lots of snacks and treats, so I had everything from dried apricots to Liquorice Allsorts."

Next year Stein and Diana Hoff plan to retire and start another circumnavigation, this time in their 40-ft catamaran, White Admiral. George Parsonage will stick to rowing and wait for the postcards.

Alone but never lonely

From Stein Hoff's daily journal:

Saturday August 11 (Lisbon): I Rowed under the Discoverers' Monument and raised my hat to the many Portuguese pioneers

. . . got a lump in my throat when I realised what a long time it would be before I see family and friends again.

Sunday August 12: Yesterday evening it got really rough and was just about the worst since the 1997 regatta (Sir Chay Blyth's double-handed transatlantic race, with co-rower Arvid Bentsen). I was more or less in the cabin for 12 hours while the sea played with my little boat like a toy ball . . .

Tuesday August 13: Sometimes when a wall of water towers up behind the boat and I can manage to control the steering, she surfs down the waves for a few seconds at five to six knots - I have even seen eight on the GPS. Then a loud "Yeehaaa!" is called for . . . Happiness is a dry rear end. I found a dry pair of pants . . .

Wednesday August 14: (399 miles rowed) Long, good rowing session last night. I felt on top form, like a kid on an exciting journey . . . Ocean Rowing Society has found out that my row is "only" 3200 n. miles. That would be fine but I'm not going in a straight line from Lisbon to Georgetown.

Friday August 16: When I rowed last night I was wearing only sunglasses, gloves, and my worn wedding ring . . . I finally got the water-maker to work but it took three hours to make 10 litres. Tonight I shall celebrate one week at sea with a little red wine and a candle.

Monday August 19: (. . . only potatoes and onions left of the fresh food). I saw a fin stick up out of the water . . . Any sharks out here are not dangerous and while dinner was warming, I had another refreshing swim . . . I swam about 50m in front and looked back at my rocking home. She looked like an exotic sea bird, the oars over the sides like colourful wings. Saw two ships yesterday . . . In the evenings there are lots of planes - probably en route to Madeira or the Canaries. Not much life in the sea, just a little turtle this morning.

Saturday August 24: Day 15, 500 nautical miles! It was so quiet that I could only hear a weak, high-frequency sound - my own tinnitus.

Tuesday August 27: The bad weather continued . . . it wasn't easy to sleep, but with Kiri Te Kanawa's beautiful voice, the cabin felt snug and safe . . . Two small flying fish landed on the deck this morning...

Monday September 9: During the night I rowed over the Tropic of Cancer and am officially in the tropics!

Wednesday September 18: I have a little stabbing pain in my right shoulder-blade when I have rowed about half an hour but it gets better with some stretching and massage. Also a bit of pain in the right hip.

Sunday September 22: Half-way! Near gale from the north-east. I felt quite stressed by the irregular waves and stayed outside until 1am . . . I have rowed 1791 miles from Lisbon . . . and have still 1728 to Georgetown.

(On October 1 Diana posted a message on his web-site revealing that his PC had broken down. For the remainder of the trip, he has filed daily reports via satellite telephone.)

Tuesday October 8: He had a visit from a fishing vessel from Vigo in Spain, which came within shouting distance. They waved flags at each other and had a chat on the VHF.

Thursday October 24: A large pod of dolphins has been swimming beside him for about an hour. They play around the hull and swim in formation, like a ballet show. There is an albino among them, very pale grey colour with a red tinge, and another who was feeding two babies right beside the boat.

Friday October 25: 767 miles to Georgetown. An exciting encounter with a large pilot-whale which chased around the boat as if in pursuit of something . . . then lay under the boat and whistled. Stein became even more nervous and hit the gunnels to frighten it off.

Wednesday October 30: He gets Norwegian radio news at night and BBC in the mornings, so he is orientated on all the madness of the world. He ate the last onion today.

Tuesday November 5: 79 miles (68 nautical miles) in 24 hours, a new record, mainly thanks to the current pushing the boat north-west. He had a shave, an uncomfortable experience as the razor blades are now blunt.

Saturday November 9: 195 n. miles from Georgetown. There has been a butterfly on the boat today, a sign that he is near land, and a shark followed the boat for several hours.