The official numbers, if such formalities exist, have claimed there are 53 Scots on the entry list for Tokyo’s Olympics.

Calculate that, Eilidh McIntyre demands, to be 53-and-a-half. “I very much consider myself 50:50,” she says. “Scotland is such a big part of my life. Part of my heritage. That place is home.”

Of aristocratic Caledonian sporting stock, to boot. Her father Mike, Glasgow-born and Argyll-raised, set sail for gold at the 1988 Games in Seoul, stellar in the Star class. He remained on the south coast. But frequently returned, family eventually in tow. “We used to come up a lot,” his daughter recalls. “I was obviously very addicted to sailing. And we used to come up to Helensburgh to see my grandparents and we used to bring the boat on the roof.”

Now 27 years young, the second McIntyre to become an Olympian grew up with his medal hung in a case outside her bedroom door. It added constant fuel to her passion. Even when Mike retired to advise others from the shore, spotting him on TV amid the sails became a childhood pursuit. “I have this really vivid memory of being a kid, not being able to sleep, and watching videos of Dad,” she details.

He is a source of wise counsel now. Entering the 470 class this week in Enoshima in tandem with the UK’s ceremonial flagbearer Hannah Mills, their status is established as the 2019 world champions. Her colleague’s Olympic history is as storied as her parent, golden in Rio with Saskia Clark.

Ahead of those Games, the now-crewmates were rivals for one British berth. McIntyre threw her all into qualification when British Sailing suggested she try. As prodigious as she was, there were so many times she felt an imposter, out of her depth.

“I was sailing with someone much more experienced than me and I really struggled that campaign. I wasn't very happy for a significant amount of it. Then we missed out on going to Rio. I just had such a hard time of it that I kind of broke down. I really struggled with anxiety and stuff. I ended up going to see someone to talk about it and I just wish I'd done it sooner really and got my head on straight a bit more.”

It took six months of trying to right her own ship before she navigated toward an even keel. “I was difficult with people around me,” she reflects. Now she looks back, not with fondness but an awareness of where the storms can arise. It is positive, McIntyre proclaims, that these afflictions are no longer taboo.

“In sport for a long time, it certainly felt like to be upset or to cry or show emotion is a sign of weakness. Or they can't perform because they're doing that. That stigma has actually always been hard to combat. But me showing emotion isn't a weakness. It's just my passion, how I feel about the sport and how much I want it.”

Fifth at March’s worlds, held in Portugal, Tokyo will be a different beast, she expects. The British team has left few stones unturned, particularly from recces pre-Covid. This will be a challenge for everyone, she expects, with Scottish colleague Charlotte Dobson among those beginning their competition tonight in the 49er FX class.

“The heat could get unbearable,” McIntyre anchors. “Because we're just out in it all day in the main heat of the day. We launch at 11 and we'll get back in at 4.35. It is very hard to cool off because the water is so hot ... there are all sorts of strategies. Ice, water, shade, just anything to stay cool.”