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Diary of an Atlantic Rower

On the 21st January 2025, the ‘Atlantic Exploarers’ crossed the finish line of The World’s Toughest Row (formerly the Talisker Whisky Atlantic Challenge). Their four-man crew contained Dorset locals, Rex Fisher, Sam Weston and Daragh MacDonagh, and Ed Hughes. Starting as the fourth fastest boat in this year’s fleet, they clocked up as much as 85 nautical miles in a single day but encountered challenging rowing conditions, dropping their position to eighth as they entered English Harbour on the Caribbean island of Antigua. 

Rex sent in daily updates over the course of his 3,000 mile journey.

Day 0, hours after leaving La Gomera

Second shift off the oars. I’ve personally rowed for six hours in total now: three hours on, one hour off. We’re rowing three-up to try and get ahead of the storm.

Day 1

Spotted four shooting stars last night. And white whale this morning! But my back is sore. The cabin is hot. This is not going to be easy!!

Day 3 

I’m on a high! Rough, with strong cross-winds but loving it! Saw a green shooting star last night (I initially thought it was a flare), and a moonset! Been followed all day by a single migrating tern. Spirits still high while pushing on through some really tough wind conditions.

Day 4

Wet to my bone and waves crashing all over the boat. Sky is alight with comets, blue, red and green. Currently trying to ride the storm further south than the rest of the fleet. It’s a gamble but hopefully means we’ll catch a good trade wind and whistle past them. It’s epic!

[later]

Hard night and hard day, the storm has struck! Everyone’s spirits are a bit down but the sunlight is helping.

Day 5 

Poor comms today because I got water in my charging hole, but that’s sorted now. Good day – we had a bit of a low after a rough start but conditions got a lot better. Feeling good now! Windy and stormy outside, it was pitch black at 4pm as the vortex went over us.

Day 6

A small hole in the boat has slowed progress, but we’re fixing it. Saw a giant whale last night – twice the size of our boat!

 

 

1/ Catch of the day aboard Rockfisher II… not quite a Fruit de Mer! The boat regularly gets peppered with flying fish, especially at night where they’ll slap you in the face while you row!

2/ This is what 15 hours rowing with 3 hours sleep for 7 days at sea looks like!

3/ The crew are making fun of my beard - or lack thereof. Their chins are super woolly already. I’ve barely got a 5 o’clock shadow!

4/ No pain no gain!

 

Day 10 

If we can keep up this speed, we estimate reaching land on the 16th of January! Strong winds and a strong current are making for good acceleration but not a lot of comfort... Everyone is soaked to the bone and have been for 24 hours, but spirits are high (although Sam says he’s in a permanent state of feeling nauseous). I think it’s meant to be like this for the rest of the week. I tethered some of my boxers to the roof, which has meant I at least have a dry pair for tonight. 

Day 11 

We were on a collision course with a huge Spanish Trawler last night (after tuna, I suspect). We radioed in and managed to avoid it. Ed had a brief trip overboard as a wave took him over. Fortunately he was double clipped so we just had to pull him back aboard, but he was soaking wet for the rest of the day. 

We’ve had a couple of whales come by and say hello and a shark gave us the once-over and circled round the boat before deciding we looked a bit burnt. The dolphins enjoy coming as close to the oars as possible. 

We keep seeing strange unmanned lights on the water and in the sky… UFOs only explanation.

Day 13 

About five days ago, a cloud of reddish, grey descended on our little boat, made up of Saharan sands mixed in with a big depression headed North. This has meant that for five days there was no sun or moon, just grey. Everything got covered in a thick red dust - including our Union Jack which is now looking brown and forlorn. Last night we were finally treated to a heavenly sunset. The clouds cleared due west and the skies shone gold and pink as if the heavens were beckoning us towards Antigua.

Celebrating the sunrise and only 2,000 miles left to row!

 

There is one tragedy to report: last night we lost our plop bucket over the side…! And now I’ve discovered I’ve just lost my mess tin!!

 

 

1/ The best seat in the house for Christmas lunch, Atlantic Ocean style! Half way across!

2/ No carving required!

Day 17

At 3am on Christmas morning we got a call on our radio asking who were we and what we thought we were up to. The call was from an American warship passing through the mid Atlantic. They had spotted us on AIS but we didn’t show up on their radar so they questioned if we were some sort of stealth boat out to cause some holiday trouble! We very quickly explained we were an ocean rowing boat… They wished us a very jolly Christmas but sadly didn’t invite us aboard for mince pies & mulled wine!

 

Day 18 

More than anything, we’re all missing clean, dry bed sheets. Our clothes are always just slightly damp, nothing ever dries, and everything - even our clothes - are all scratchy with salt. Despite the vigours of cleaning, our arses have given in: when the salt water dries on our clothing and rowing seats, it leaves the salt crystals which literally drill themselves into your bum cheeks. We now have the beginnings of some very red and angry welts. Slipping into a crisp dry bed would be my number one luxury right now! 

 

By now we’ve got fairly used to the rhythm of life at sea and to our routine. At first everything - even just moving about the boat - was difficult, now it all seems pretty normal. Sadly, I think we’re going to drop some places in the night… we hope to regain them again over time as we’re off in search of better winds.

Ed being slapped in the face by another flying fish

Day 19

Team morale is very low today - it’s hot hot hot. The wind is rubbish and we’ve been overtaken - not good! I’m actually okay - but everyone else is very melancholic. There’s a huge gin palace currently passing us. We’ve chatted with them on the radio and they’re going to give us a honk on their way past! I did a barnacle scrape of the bottom of the boat while I was waiting.

 

Day 20 

Just passed the half way mark. Half way across the Atlantic! It’s super hot today, 35 degrees, and still windless. Just come off shift and done a full body wash. I brought a comb with me which is actually an amazing morale boost; despite being dirty, salty and my hair starting to dreadlock, a comb just makes things feel normal. Happy New Year’s Eve!

 

Day 21

First day of 2025 might be the hottest day ever!! We can see a storm raging to the north of us - lots of lightning! But we’re in a flat, calm ocean. 

Sunrise on 2025 celebrated by cracking open a tin a peaches!

Day 23 

We’re right on the edge of where the Doldrums and the trade winds meet. We’re hoping that our southerly position means we’ll get swept up by them soon and, like a magic carpet, start flying our way to Antigua! Meanwhile, the ocean is like glass: no movement and not a breath of wind. Rowing in this heat means we’re sweating like piglets. We take it in turns to pour buckets of water over each other’s heads. Our beards are growing long and super itchy in the sun. (Well, the boys’ beards are growing long, mine is still pathetic!)

Nighttime listening is made up of P.G. Wodehouse – it’s about the only thing we can concentrate on – and during the day we have Amy Winehouse ‘Back to Black’ playing on repeat. We’re acutely aware that every 0.1 of a knot that we average on our speed means 13 hours less on the boat… But spirits are high with the promise of the trade winds returning.

Day 32 

685 nautical miles to go! We’ve officially moved to rowing three-up in the daytime. This means an increase of 15 hours rowing each per day. It also means no space on deck to relax on your one hour break… I am currently confined to my cabin where the heat is completely intolerable. As I type the sweat on my fingers makes the phone slide about in my hand! 

Unfortunately we’re going directly into head winds which will slow us down. But we’re spurred on by the fact that we can practically smell the bacon sandwiches waiting for us at the other end.

 

Day 34

We’ve been keeping funny hours and are still rowing three-up all through the night, meaning basically no sleep. But we do it under the light of the full moon which we’ve watched go from full to nothing and back to full again! Last night, somewhere in the black, we heard a whale berth and felt it follow us for quite a while. We also saw another yacht full of revellers! We got lots of drunken cheers.

I’ve been listening to the Count of Monte Cristo and dreaming of being a Mediterranean smuggler! There’s not a breath of wind out here, it’s like rowing through setting concrete, and it’s still as hot as Hades. Talk about crossing the rubicon!

Day 36 

Five weeks! 

Life on the high seas is actually quite jolly! But we are all prone to feeling quite monosyllabic at times.     

Before we set off, we put all our meals and snacks in carefully arranged bags which contained everything we needed for a full 24 hours. However, we got so bored of certain snacks that everyone started pillaging from the future bags. So we decided to create a ‘tuck shop’ with what was left. Even this is now down to the dregs. 

Top snack: Rowntree Randoms, long gone. 

Worst snack: Snickers! Bizarrely, the nuts have taken on the chemical flavour from the fibreglass of the boat and are now barely edible. 

My negotiations over the cabin swap finally came to an end today and I moved into the front parlour, but I insisted it was properly cleaned, which means it’s now quite cozy. The bunk lies directly onto the hull, so actually it’s much cooler. The only risk is getting attacked by a marlin (which has happened to another boat…), in which case I end up as a marlin kebab! 

It was a tough night as the winds suddenly picked up, pushing us south. If we don’t push back, we’ll miss Antigua altogether and end up in Brazil!

Day 37

One of the most hellish nights yet! We were forecasted light north-easterlies followed by a strengthening easterly wind which would have allowed us to continue pressing on North. That way, we could ride Saturday and Sunday’s north-easterly winds onto Antigua rather than Panama! Forecast proved very wrong: instead, we got northerly winds right in our face. We could barely move a mile, and had to endure heavy soak-you-to-your-skin rain.

About two weeks ago, I predicted we were going to run out of loo roll. Our rate of consumption had got out of control, so I imposed strict rationing rules on everyone. In the last few days, with the end in sight, my iron grip softened and toilet roll consumption has once again spiralled! It seems there is a new frontier to this race. Not only are we trying our best to beat the [Atlantic] Donkeys, Ventures (Team V3nture) and Oars of Thunder - but we’re racing against running out of loo roll! Finally understand the saying ‘all sheets to the wind’!

Day 38

God, I cannot wait to see you all! Winds that we thought would be favourable have proven to be the complete opposite and we’re slugging it out with awful cross-winds and waves crashing over the boat leaving everything in their wake soaking wet. It’s slow, painful progress. But it’s just been bad luck with the weather. We are ticking off the miles. It seems you really can’t rely on any forecast, they all say opposing things and are all wrong! 

However, I should finish the Count of Monte Christo today. It’s been amazing! I might try and rush through Middlemarch… I could finish it by the time I arrive. Ten hours a day, no bother!

The Atlantic Exploarers completed their Atlantic crossing in 41 days, 10 hours, and 5 minutes. Their campaign was in honour of three close personal friends and family who were lost to suicide. Their charity fundraising will go to mental health charity, MIND. 

2024 marks Firepot's seventh year of working with The World's Toughest Row fleet. Each year, we welcome rowers to stop off at our HQ on their way to Teignmouth to complete their sea safety training. We show them around the kitchen so they can see where our food is made, and discuss their nutritional needs. For their race this year, Rex, Ed, Sam and Daragh took 526 extra-large Firepot meals with them. If you've got plans to take to the water, get in touch, or take a look at our ocean rowing credentials here.