IN MUCH the same way as Joe Simpson's book, Touching the Void served to put people off the silly notion of attempting to climb mountains, Gleeson and Holme's story should disabuse any rightminded person of the idea of rowing the Atlantic.

Not that anyone would accuse either Paul Gleeson or Tori Holmes of being right-minded.

Most top-class sports people have a frisson of insanity that allows them to go the extra mile, to do what the opposition isn't willing to do in order to be the best. While neither would profess to being athletes, Gorman's account demonstrates Gleeson and Holmes have this quality in spades, and spines that make the rest of us look like quivering invertebrates.

The couple met in Australia when Holmes, a petite 21-year-old Canadian, answered an ad from Gleeson, a 29-year-old financial adviser from Limerick, looking for someone to drive a support car as he cycled across the continent.

The pair later, basically acting on a whim, decided to enter the 2005/06 Trans-Atlantic Rowing Race. Facing into the physical and mental ordeal of rowing for the best part of three months in a tiny two-person boat at the mercy of the ocean is one thing, it's entirely another when neither person actually knows how to row.

Quite apart from the harsh realities of the trip, including chafing, thirst, sleep deprivationinduced hallucinations and a sanitary technique known as "Bucket 'n'Chuck it", the mental strain adds another level of torture.

What becomes fascinating about the book is not just the obstacles the couple encounter in preparation and the race itself, but how they react as most people would, with a cry or a tantrum, yet rather than then quitting simply plunge on into dark waters, both literally and metaphorically. Thoroughly enjoyable.

Northabout . . . Sailing the North East and North West Passages By Jarlath Cunnane Collins Press /27.95 (hardback) 238pp

Northabout is a 47-foot aluminium boat that Jarlath Cunnane and friends decided to sail through the North West passage of the Arctic Circle, north of Canada and Alaska through the Arctic Ocean.

After surviving a route that has claimed many lives . . . and battling with ever-shifting ice and the inhospitable encounters with the American military along the way . . . they returned safely.

Resting on their laurels was not on the agenda, so they decided to embark on the more difficult North West route, going via the icy seas of Siberia from the Bering Strait to Norway. Insanity doesn't even start to cover to an endeavour.

In the main, this is a book for sailing enthusiasts. Details on how the boat was built are given and one chapter on communications wryly admits that it will be of particular interest to radio enthusiasts. But those not au fait with treacherous seas need not fear (although you may find yourself keeping one thumb near the glossary section).

Cunnane doesn't embroider the story much and you occasionally find yourself thinking that particular situations could have been milked for more drama, but the point is that if this crew thought about danger too much they would never have embarked on such an expedition.

The sparse and matter-of-fact style starts to make sense as they simply take everything in their stride, from crazy Russian bureaucracy to meeting isolated Inuit communities, to having giant chunks of ice spat at them as they travel in the slipstream of a huge tanker.

Cunnane's huge knowledge of both the workings and history of sea-faring shines through and means every page is laced with interesting tidbits.

That they are travelling through places so far off the beaten track, or any track for that matter, adds to the fascination, as does the superb photography on show.