Pacific Ocean Row FAQ

The Big Picture

  • I’m attempting to row approximately 10,000 miles solo from Peru to Australia.

    No sail. No motor. Just me, two sets of oars, one very small boat, and a lot of chocolate.

    The crossing is expected to take around 6 to 8 months, although the ocean always gets the final vote.

  • The current plan is to launch from Peru around December 2026 or January 2027, depending on weather conditions, customs, and final preparations.

    For a journey this long, choosing the right weather window matters much more than choosing a perfect date.

  • I’ll launch from Lima on the coast of Peru and row west across the Pacific toward Australia. The current target is Cairns, although the exact landing location may change based on winds, currents, weather, and safety.

  • Yes. Nonstop means I will not step onto land, receive a resupply, or accept physical assistance during the crossing.

    It does not mean I will row every second for eight months. I’ll stop rowing to sleep, eat, repair equipment, communicate with my team, wait out dangerous weather, and occasionally question all of my life choices.

    If I stop on an island or accept physical help, it would no longer count as an unassisted crossing.

  • Physically, yes.

    I’ll be the only person on the boat, but I’ll have a team supporting me from shore. That includes professional weather routing, tracking, communications support, medical guidance, and many people reminding me that quitting is not part of the itinerary.

  • I’m attempting to become:

    • The 1st woman to row solo from South America to Australia

    • The 1st American woman to row the Pacific solo

    • The woman with the longest nonstop ocean row

    Records are exciting, but the bigger purpose is using the row to help bring clean water to 100,000 people in Fiji.

  • This row is part of a much larger goal to travel around the world entirely by human power.

    I have already rowed the Atlantic and completed a 3,100-mile cycling and kayaking journey across South America. The Pacific is the next major leg.

    But the mission has always been about more than miles or records. For years, I have connected my endurance challenges to clean water projects because something as basic as safe drinking water can completely change a person’s health, education, and future.

The Clean Water Mission

  • Fiji may look like paradise from the outside, but many families, especially in remote communities, still do not have reliable access to safe drinking water.

    Fiji is spread across more than 300 islands. Reaching rural villages can be difficult, and cyclones and severe storms can damage water systems or contaminate local water supplies.

    In partnership with Give Clean Water, the campaign will help provide families with water filtration systems and the education needed to use and maintain them.

    The goal is to raise $1 million and help 100,000 people gain access to clean water.

  • Being surrounded by saltwater does not mean every family has reliable access to safe drinking water. Turning seawater into freshwater through desalination requires specialized infrastructure and a significant amount of energy, making it impractical for many remote communities.

    Many families instead rely on rainwater or local water systems that can become contaminated or damaged, especially after cyclones and severe storms. This campaign supports simple, sustainable water filtration solutions that help make the water families already have safer to drink.

  • All proceeds from the clean water campaign support the mission to provide safe drinking water in Fiji. Just $10–$12 can help provide one person with clean water for up to 10 years.

    Expedition costs are covered separately through sponsors, including Sawyer Products, and other expedition partners.

  • You can donate to the clean water campaign, share the mission, follow the journey, introduce the project to potential partners, or simply send encouragement.

    Every donation and share helps move the campaign closer to the goal of giving 100,000 people access to clean water.

    10,000 miles is a long way to row, but it becomes much more meaningful when every mile is connected to something bigger.

Life on the Boat

  • 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.