My boat has a watermaker that turns saltwater into fresh drinking water through desalination. It draws in seawater, removes the salt, and produces water that is safe to drink. The system runs on batteries charged by the boat’s solar panels.

I’ll also carry a backup watermaker and an emergency supply of drinking water.

I’ll carry roughly one million calories of food.

My menu includes dehydrated meals, ramen, tortillas, nut butters, bars, fruit snacks, nuts, olive oil, electrolytes, and enough chocolate to qualify as emergency safety equipment.

Most of the food is calorie-dense, easy to prepare, and able to survive for months in a hot, wet boat.

I may occasionally catch a fish, but my food plan does not depend on fishing. Any fresh mahi-mahi sushi would simply be a very welcome bonus.

I have a small camping stove that allows me to boil water for dehydrated meals and ramen.

Cooking on an ocean rowboat is less “celebrity chef” and more “please do not spill boiling water while the entire kitchen is moving.”

I sleep inside a small enclosed cabin at the end of the boat.

It is just large enough for me to lie down, store essential equipment, and shelter during storms.

My cabin also has a fish mural, because apparently 10,000 miles of actual ocean was not enough ocean.

I’ll aim for around six to eight hours of sleep in a 24-hour period.

That may happen in one longer stretch or several shorter stretches, depending on the weather, how my body is adapting to the conditions, and how cooperative the Pacific is feeling.

Because this journey may last six to eight months, sleep is essential. Trying to remain severely sleep-deprived for that long would be unsafe and unsustainable.

Welcome to the most frequently requested part of the boat tour: the bucket.

I use a bucket and empty it overboard while far offshore. It may sound surprising, but a small amount of human waste is biodegradable and naturally breaks down in the open ocean.

All plastic, wrappers, packaging, and other trash stay on the boat until I reach land.

The rule is simple: bucket contents can go, garbage cannot

I’ll use a solar shower when conditions allow, along with baby wipes for everyday cleaning.

Getting salt off my skin is especially important because constant exposure can cause painful salt sores and irritation. Fresh water will be limited, so showers will be quick and practical, but staying clean is an important part of staying healthy during months at sea.

I’ll be rowing close to the equator, so sun exposure and heat will be serious concerns.

I’ll use UPF clothing, a hat, sunglasses, gloves, sunscreen, neck and face protection.

I can also adjust my rowing schedule to avoid spending every hour outside during the most intense heat.

The goal is to finish the crossing without becoming one giant sunburn.

Yes, but only when conditions are safe.

During my Atlantic crossing, I eventually became comfortable getting into the water and often took short swims to cool off. On the Pacific, I may take a dip a few times a week, especially near the equator where the heat can be intense.

I’ll stay very close to the boat, wear a safety harness, and can use a safety ladder to get back onboard.

Watermelon. Hot showers. Walking more than a few feet. Hugging people. A bed that does not move.

Possibly also toilets that are not buckets.

It is about 24 feet long, which sounds spacious until you remember that it will contain me, my sleeping area, safety equipment, electronics, tools, watermakers, and approximately one million calories of food.

It is less like living on a yacht and more like spending eight months inside a very organized floating closet.