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197 and counting

Rowing an ocean is a daunting task – doing it alone even more so. As of September 2023, just 197 people rowed the Atlantic solo in modern times. Of these, 22 were women. There were a further 87 incomplete attempts.

To put things into perspective, 656 people had reached the altitude of space by July this year. That’s more than three times the number of people who took on the Atlantic rowing challenge solo.

By the time I get to go, there will have been at least another 21 people I know who will row the Atlantic, probably a dozen or so more.

My solo row takes place in 2025 – on 12 December of that year to be exact. Just over 30 other teams will also be in the race – the World’s Toughest Row orgnaised by Atlantic Campaigns. I will row from La Gomera to Antigua, around 3,000 miles of wild Atlantic Ocean. This will be my second row (see below), but my first solo.

Every one of us has a different reason to row, but we all share the common desire to do something which is relatively unique.

In my case, I will become the first Maltese person ever to row an ocean solo. I believe that for a nation so intimately tied with the sea, it is nearly a must for our flag to fly proud among the many nations who have produced solo ocean rowers.

Going solo means I have to take care of everything on the water during the crossing – rowing (duh!), navigating, steering, keeping the boat clean and maintained, making water, managing power, keeping a watch-out for ships and potential dangers, taking care of myself, cooking, ensuring the boat has a good trim, and removing barnacles from the hull.

There is a lot to do.

Back home, there will be a team who will be helping with my journey. With such a huge challenge, the backroom team will provide invaluable support for me to get to the other side.

The costs for my row are expected to be around €140,000 – if you know anyone interested in supporting me, please send me an email. More information is available below.

Source for statistics

Row diaries: Not an easy start

It’s been an eventful but rewarding first leg of the journey for Steve and the rest of the team as they battle rough seas and high winds on their Atlantic adventure.

With swells of up to 3 metres, waves crashing over the side of the boat and the rowers frequently being swept out of their seats, it has certainly not been an easy start to the voyage.

Steve himself has been thrown from his seat countless times, cutting a finger on one occasion. And to make matters worse that finger then got infected which has hampered his rowing considerably. But the team have medical supplies on board and are treating the injury well.

They have also had to spend long periods on sea anchor to cope with the weather conditions and that has slowed their progress.

In one of his updates to home, Steve said he hasn’t been eating much during this first stretch, making do with energy drinks and chocolate for the most part and forcing himself to eat proper food on just the odd occasion.

The reality is that things which are normally simple – sleeping, eating, cleaning your teeth – become so much more complicated in the confined, turbulent environment of the boat, so they just don’t happen, Steve explained.

In one particularly distressing update, he told how the red bucket which the team had designated as their toilet broke meaning the black bucket, which was originally intended to be used for showers, has now been promoted to toilet duties.

It’s fair to assume there isn’t going to be a lot of showering taking place over the coming weeks…

Despite everything, however, the team is still making healthy progress and is many hundreds of kilometres on their way towards South America. A long way to go but they are well on their way.

Steve is rowing across the Atlantic Ocean to raise funds for three great organizations. To find out more and to donate, go to www.crossrower.ch (de.crossrower.ch in German)

Row diaries: Weather you like it or not…

We’ve now been in Portimao for a week and are more or less ready to go. As I write, we are getting the watermaker ready. It didn’t start up last time, but it’s probably just a set up issue. After that, we are ready. Ideally we would leave at once, but we really need the wind to be blowing in the right direction. The bad news is that the wind is all over the place. There was a window a week away, but that has now firmly shut. I must admit it is very frustrating. I am not well adapted to waiting.The good news is that the winds are constantly changing. This means it’s entirely possible we just up and leave with very little notice at all. In the meantime, we will be training and waiting. The wind may be messed up, but at least the sun is out.

Tight fit

In the event of a storm or very bad weather, three of us will be confined to the aft cabin. We tested it out the other day and found it to be a bit of a tight fit. But if we are lucky, this should not happen too often. Sometimes I will be in the cabin alone, other times it will be two of us sharing it. This happens on our downtime, which we don’t have huge amounts of. Having said that, right now I would prefer any sort of tight fit than this horrendous waiting.

Row diaries: The team – Georgios Ardavanis (Team EU rower)

In March 2021, I will row across the Atlantic Ocean with four others, a grueling 6,000km challenge that will push mind and body to the limit. Georgios Ardavanis is one of the team members of Team EU

Georgios was always involved extensively in competitive sports, including track, basketball, and tennis. While a university student, he was invited in the Greek  Davis Cup squad for trials. In his early 40s, he became involved in extreme adventures and expeditions.

“I am not a fan of a conventional ordinary life with some pleasant moments of very short duration, like an orgasm, and then nothing. I am not looking for the safe confines of normality. Instead, I am looking for those unique living difficult moments with pain, which altogether are worth a lifetime of glory. I want to achieve immortality by adding my name to a handful of achievers’ lists. “

He said he strongly believes that the ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.

“I am not doing these extreme expeditions to show how good I am, on the contrary, I want to show how good I want to be. I want to live a life full of speed, according to my dreams, expectations, and values that make me happier. I want to be the best among the best because my soul is unconquerable,” he said

His past expeditions include climbing rock formations in Greece and Bulgaria (2005), Nepal (2006), Russia and Mt Kilimanjaro (2007), and Argentina (2008).

Georgios completed the tough Marathon Des Sables in Sahara Morocco (251 km) in 2008, only the second Greek participant in the history of that event.

Over the next few years, Georgios competed in marathons (including back-to-back marathons in Chicago and Toronto in 2013), triathlons, and ultra-triathlons.

In 2016, he attempted his first ocean rowing challenge, while in 2017, he competed in a Hellathlon in Greece – 760km of cycling, climbing, running, and cycling again.

Completing the rowing challenge in March does not mean Georgios will stop – also this year, he will attempt to cycle across the US and climb the five Himalaya summits back-to-back. Next year, he is planning to sail across the Pacific Ocean in a tall ship. IN 2023, he will cycle the Silk Road from Beijing to Istanbul followed by the Tour D’ Afrique (Cairo – Cape Town) cycling trip a year later.

Georgios holds a BS and MS in Electrical Engineering (Villanova University/USA), MBA (Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute/USA), PhD in Environmental Engineering (Technical University of Sofia/BG),  and Advanced Executive Studies in Engineering Management (MIT/USA). Also, he studied at the National Conservatory of Greece.

He is a career systems engineer and Technical Director with 30+ years of international experience in railway systems, and infrastructure projects in the USA, Germany, Greece, Bulgaria, West Indies, Saudi Arabia, Canada, Oman, Egypt, Qatar, Dubai, and India. He develops and implements highly complex long-range engineering projects from conceptual and detailed design to implementation, installation and test and commissioning in system engineering, integration, and data analytics covering every phase of engineering, technology, operations, value chain management, system planning, system migration, critical design gate reviews per V-cycle, quality engineering, system assurance. 

Row diary: Food, glorious food

An army is said to march on its stomach, apparently. And so do rowers (well, we row, incidentally in March) – to the tune of 6,000 calories daily.

Two questions are frequently asked – what are you going to eat, and where will you be storing the food?

We’ll be taking everything we need with us on the trip across the Atlantic, including food. Rose, our Rannoch 45 ocean going row boat, has ample storage space to be able to take everything. The food is dehydrated so it takes up less space and is also lighter.

Probably my favorite…

We will have around four packet per rower per day, each of which contains around 1,000 calories. This is supplemented by snacks to make up around 6,000 calories per day.

We’ll be having a choice of different food, including Spaghetti Bolognese, couscous with Cajun spices and vegetables, Asian noodles with chicken, fish and potato in parsley sauce, and mixed vegetables, and vegetable tikka with rice.

There will also be sweet freeze-dried food options, including chocolate chip biscuit pudding, custard with apple, custard with mixed berries, granola with raspberries, hot cereal with mango, and porridge with sultanas.

What we’ll be doing is adding hot or cold water and giving it time to rehydrate before eating.

What’s interesting is that while consuming the equivalent of 12 Big Macs a day, I’ll probably end up losing around 10kg. Makes it all worth it.

If you want to support Steve’s causes, go to www.crossrower.ch (or de.crossrower.ch in German). The site also includes detailed information on the trip.

Row diary: Mental preparation

While physical preparations are relatively straight forward, it’s a different story for the mental training for the row.

With less than four months to go, I’m starting to feel anxious about the crossing, and am preoccupied that I’m not paying enough attention to getting my mind in place.

It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time, but only recently have I figured it out (or at least I think I have).

When one thinks of the prospect of rowing two hours on / two hours off for around 50 days non-stop, the things that come to mind are hardship, pain and suffering, exhaustion, loneliness, depression, regret, anxiety, and helplessness. Then add seasickness, fear, and a touch of claustrophobia to top it all off.

I’m sure I’ll experience some if not all of those. But that’s not what’s really important. The important thing is managing to get over them and keep going.

But that’s not all. Everything I’ve done so far in life was aimed at reaching something, getting somewhere – driving for hours to get home from work, finishing a marathon or completing my thesis. It’s always been the getting there. That’s wrong. By doing this, I forgot to enjoy myself on the way.

My Atlantic adventure will be just that – an adventure where I will look forward to every stroke, enjoy every freeze-dried meal as though it were cooked by a Michelin-star chef, spend time getting to know my fellow travelers, buzzing to music, getting thrilled by sunsets and sunrises, respecting the greatness of nature, and hoping the trip never ends.

I won’t miss people, but look forward to seeing them on my return, especially my wife and kids. I’ll enjoy the confined space of our cabin – after all, I’ll have ample time to sleep in my big bed on my return.

It’s all about mindset. That will be the biggest challenge.

Row diary: Fixing misconceptions

As a communications person, I’m finding that even the clearest of messages can get distorted or misunderstood.

When I decided to undertake my row, I created a website with all the relevant information, something I thought would help people understand what the challenge was about.

I did this because if someone were to donate to my causes, they have a right to know what I was doing and what the charities do.

The message did not always get through in the way it was intended, so here are some clarifications that may help:

  • On the row across the Atlantic, we  will have no other boat or any other form of support whatsoever. Yes, it’s a small boat in a big ocean. It’s a tough challenge, which is probably why very few people have ever done it. The boat is equipped with all the necessary equipment to get us to the other side safely, but it’ll be hard
  • Speaking of which, in the history of mankind, a whisper over 1,100 people have rowed across an ocean
  • It’s not an exclusive male domain. Many women row across oceans, too. In our team, we are very proud to have a female member (or, as we know her, a team member)
  • I’m not asking anyone to row. All I’m asking is for people to donate to my three chosen organizations. We had a charming old lady explaining to us why she and her husband could not help as they were too old to row with us. “He’s got a bad back, you know,” she told us. “I’m not sure we can make it.” Very sweet, but not necessary, my dear. We’ll do the rowing
  • Speaking of donations, all the money (literally all of it) go to the Hospice (Malta), Terre des hommes, and Krebsliga. Not only, you can choose the organization you want to help (I do not decide myself). There are links on my website that direct you to accounts belonging to the organizations. To clarify again, the money NEVER comes to me at any level
  • If/When you donate, you will not (in any way) be paying for my ‘holiday’ on a boat. Seriously. My idea of a holiday is somewhat different
  • You may think I’m begging for money, that’s your prerogative. And if that convinces you to donate, fine
  • If you don’t trust me (also your prerogative), I’d just ask that you go directly to one of these three organizations to donate. They need the money to help people. Be it cancer patients or Syrian refugee children, it’s just nice to do something altruistically
  • I’m paying all my expenses out of my own pocket. All of them. It’s not cheap, but we can manage
  • I’m not asking you to like or support what I’m doing – it’s fine. It’s also fine if you don’t let me know of why what I’m doing is silly, a way to attract attention, a mid-life crisis gone very wrong, or (my favorite) an ego trip
  • Feel free to call me crazy. You’re probably right on some level

I don’t have a team of people helping me. It’s just my wife and me. We appreciate the support we are receiving from a number of people, and want to say thanks. Also, to those who have already donated, and even bigger thanks. Let’s hope more follow your example.

To find out more about Steve’s challenge, visit his website: www.crossrower.ch or de.crossrower.ch (German)

Row diary: Challenging times + medical update

It’s now been nearly two years since I’ve embarked on this project and I must say it’s getting quite tough – physically and mentally.

On the physical side, I’m training twice or three times a day for anything between two and four hours. Sometimes, I do 24-hour training sessions, rowing two-hours on, two hours off, and in a few weeks I’ll do a 48-hour indoor row.

I guess the body of a 50-year-old can only take so much, but I can’t really afford to slow down. I also need to make sure that on 1 March 2021, I do not leave on my trip already exhausted.

Having said that, I found out I have carpal tunnel syndrome in both my wrists, which means that a decision may be imposed on me. So getting carpal tunnel now may end up being a blessing in disguise.

The Atlantic crossing leaves Portugal on 1 March 2021

Hands up

There are nerves in your wrists that lead to your fingers. If these nerves are squeezed or pinched, electrical impulses don’t get to your fingers as fast as they should.

Today I went to the doctor and unsurprisingly he found that the left hand is not doing very well. The right is not much better.

This is not too serious, but it means I need to get a double operation to fix them. Hopefully. this will happen next week. It’s a relatively simple procedure, and I’ll have to get the hands done two days apart. Not quite sure why.

Once done, I need to take a 10-day to two-week break from intense training. That sucks, but it’s also good for my body. I guess it needs a bit of a break.

The will to go on

Mentally, it’s more challenging. I’ve been preparing for this adventure for a long time and believe I am in good shape. Then, suddenly, I started having misgivings in September.

I can’t pinpoint the exact reason why. Probably, it’s a combination of many factors – my hands being messed up, fatigue, a low response to my fundraising efforts, little inroads with my social media campaigns (actually getting nearly as many unfollows as follows), Covid-19 isolation, and the inability to travel home.

It really has taken it’s toll. It’s hard to admit, but I’m struggling. There are good days, and there are bad.

Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat in near freak-out mode wondering what the hell I’ve got myself into. Another, I’m on top of the world. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not looking sympathy. I just need to ‘speak’ about this, even because I never had.

Despite this, I am resolute in carrying out the crossing, even if it’s the last thing I do. The determination to get to our final destination of French Guiana has not waned. Not even a little bit.

See you on the other side.

To find out more about Steve’s challenge, visit his website: www.crossrower.ch or de.crossrower.ch (German)

Row diaries: What I learnt from my first 24-hour training row

A few weeks ago, I did my first 24-hour training indoor row.

First few hours were fine. Then it got dark…

To be clear, the session involves rowing (indoors) for two hours, and then resting for two hours for a 24-hour period. The resting part includes eating, going to the bathroom, fixing injuries, and finding stuff on Netflix to watch.

The training mimics what I’ll experience in my 6,000km row across the Atlantic, planned for March 2021. This row will take anything between 46 and 60 days (current record for that route is just a few hours over 47 days).

My session began at 6pm and ended the same time the next day (actually, the last two hours were rest’ hours, so I really finished at 4pm). The first session was fine as my wife and kids were around, so I could chat with them and had company.

My second on shift began at 10pm, by which time is was getting dark and my wife – who was feeling poorly – had already gone to bed.

I finished my second shift at midnight. After four hours of rowing, my hands were hurting, my bum was sore, and my left elbow was also giving me cause for concern. Nothing serious though.

Silly o’clock in the morning. I’m tired

Dawn broke, and my wife and kids soon made an appearance. That was nice. I virtually didn’t sleep at all during the night. It’s not easy to sleep on a tiny mattress on the floor. I guess I must have had a maximum of two hours actual light sleep the whole night.

After my fifth shift, around midday, I managed to sleep for around 90 minutes of my two hours off period. That was nice.

The rowing itself was quite OK and the aches and sores didn’t get much worse. The only really exception was my bum. That hurt. I was glad it’s

What I learnt from the row is that eating soup right before rowing is a very bad idea, sleeping will be an issue for 24-hours (then I’ll sleep like a rock), and I have to find a way of protecting my backside (we have padding on the real boat, so this should be fine).

I think this was soon after 12pm

My hands also hurt. It seemed like my bones were made or brittle material, and some fingers went numb. It was OK while rowing, but I wonder how they will fare after days of constant rowing in wet conditions.

The most important aspect for me was the message of support I received, even at 2am. They were so vital for me to keep going. On the water, I’ll be able to receive messages, but what will really help is if people donate. Hope that happens.

If you want to know more, or if you intend donating to my causes (aww, thanks), visit www.crossrower.ch (in English and German)

Cross Rower – where does the name come from?

It took me some time before I came up with the name Cross Rower for my Atlantic Ocean row, and in reality the reasons are very simple.

Both my native and adoptive countries (Malta and Switzerland) have a cross as their symbol. The Maltese eight-pointed cross is a world-famous symbol that is recognizable everywhere. I always had a certain liking for this cross, to be honest, so am very happy to be associated with it.

The Swiss flag, with a white cross on a red background, is also universally known. I also have a strong connection with this country and therefore I felt that I had to have something related to the country in the name I use for the crossing.

Apart from that, I’ll be rowing across the Atlantic Ocean – the connection can’t be more obvious than that.

I was asked about whether the cross is also a religious symbol, and the answer is no. Personally, I live by Christian values – generosity, respect, love, peace, charity – because I believe it’s the right thing to do not because there is any post-death reward (I don’t believe in heaven nor hell, nor any higher being). Just to clarify, I have no issue with people who have faith – it’s just that I don’t.

Finally, the Cross Rower emblem was created using the blade of an oar as a background. The blade is made to resemble a face with the eyes taking the form of a Rannoch 45 boat – the same which I’ll be on during my crossing.

For more information on the row, visit www.crossrower.ch