Why I Decided to Row Solo Across the Atlantic
The Inspiration Behind Rowing Solo Across the Atlantic
I’ve been staring at this Blog title for a good while, now, and I’m still not sure where to start: what’s interesting, not boring, and maybe inspiring even?
Sod it, I’m just gonna dive right in. Please excuse me if this story goes from here to there and back again.. There’s a lot to cover, but I’m not going to get to it all here – there will be gaps – I’ll fill them with little videos or extra blogs or something later. Ok?
Sooo, the short answer is this: I met a bloke called Henry Cheape last year, who happened to be training to go row himself across the Atlantic. And I thought – hells, yeh! – I can do that!
Oh Henry – what have you done!
How Meeting Henry Cheape Sparked the idea
In case you don’t know him, Henry runs the amazing farm shop and total foodie heaven, “Balgove Larder”, just outside of St Andrews in Fife. He’s a dad, and a husband, an entrepreneur, a farmer, and an all-round properly top dude.
Until that meeting with Henry, I’d always believed that rowing an ocean was for the super-hero elite, winners of the genetic-lottery type humans; and certainly, MOST DEFINITELY NOT for the likes of an almost-fifty year old, five foot’nothing, exercise-avoiding, wonkily-built mum who knits a lot…
And whilst Henry has a lot more in common with the former type of person in the paragraph above, than the latter; he didn’t look at me like I had two heads when I confessed that I’d LOVE to cross an ocean all on my own.
So – in true “Milli” style, I decided there and then, to make like Henry, and go row the Atlantic Ocean.
A Little Background - A Life Built on Adventure
Like I said, I’m leaving out a lot of stuff – you don’t have all day… But there’s a bit more that brought me to this crazy point, of wanting to go spend several weeks alone, battling the waves, and using my stick arms to get me to the other side.
Setting Sail: Our Family’s Global Catamaran Journey
Back in 2010 we were living in the Canadian Rockies. When Indi (our son – mine and Darren’s <= he’s my annoyingly gorgeous husband) turned 7 and could swim properly, we sold up, bought a 46’ catamaran and set off to circumnavigate the world for a bit on our boat.*
We started in Marmaris, Turkey; dotted about the whole of the Med, then over to the Canaries; from there we traversed the Atlantic Ocean in 22 days and landed in Tobago. We then sailed up the whole chain of Caribbean island paradises and ended up in the lovely British Virgin Islands, which became “home” until 2017, when Hurricane Irma had other ideas for us. (I told you I’d be glossing over major chapters, right?)
* In case you’re wondering why we did that – the main reason is this book, which I massively recommend:
Founding Tribe Yarns: Blending Passion with Business
So, here we are, back in the UK. It’s 2017, and I’ve been an accountant in the world of back-stabby corp since 2000, but it’s time for a change. Nothing like a giant life-threatening storm to sharpen up ones’ perspectives.
I harboured a retirement fantasy of owning a yarn shop, spending all my time sourcing the best knitting yarns from around the world, and then knitting them. It was strictly a “retirement thing” because everyone will tell you that there’s no money in that.
But I’m a rebel at heart, and never listen to the naysayers. I knew I could make it work with buckets of hard work, late nights and many, many spreadsheets. I’m super blessed with the most supportive, lovely family who are always on my side.
Tribe started life as a tiny, funky little shop in London’s posh playground: Richmond upon Thames. I carved out a niche for non-conformists like me, shunning fast-nasty-fashion and old-lady-wool-shops, and finding joy in glorious, natural wool and slow, methodical stitches. Get in!!!!
Shop No 1 was a tight squeeze
Fast forward to 2023…
By now we had moved premises from my tiny shop No 1 to a lovely 3-storey space, still in Richmond, and I was actually making the whole “bold and irreverent” yarn shop thing work!
Then Covid happened. And we all know what a horrific time that was. It made a horrible, and long-term mess of mine and Darren’s bodies, and it fundamentally changed Tribe too - but in a positive way.
We went from small-ish shop for Londoners and discerning yarn-tourists, with a bit of mail-order stuff; to Online mega-seller operating out of an expensive-richmond-yarn-warehouse-crammed-to-the-rafters. (Ok, so not “mega”, but you know what I mean.)
Our customers were now all over the world (in over 70 countries), and we were really enjoying the online business waaaaaaaay more than the in-person-open-the-doors business.
Plus London was hurting our decimated lungs. And we had a new puppy…
So, we decided to MOVE TO SCOTLAND!! 🏴
Baker Street, the Great Dane, at home on our Dutch barge on the River Thames
So, here we now are! In the marvellous East Neuk of Fife.
My yarn empire operates out of a newly renovated ancient (and roomy!) cowshed on the lovely Balcaskie Estate.
The sea is within spitting distance for my mandatory swims and salty-strolls.
And Baker Street has room to bounce about the fields and live his very best life.
Milli and Baker Street
Another big life-change has paid off – and we are loving the clean air, wholesome food, online biz and new wonderful friendships in this Scottish corner.
So now why rowing solo??
Well, mainly because I fell head over heals and completely in love with it when we sailed it. It might have been the best 22 days of my life.
And I always felt it went too fast.
And in all honesty, despite the two and a half near-death experiences out there (stories for another day), it felt too easy. Too comfortable.
It wasn’t the growth moment that I imagined it to be.
Chilling in the sail bag, atop of Free Spirit
So, we’ve always talked about going back to the sea – crossing the Pacific next. But I dream about doing it in a crappy, facility-free old wooden monohull. Pooping in buckets, and sleep deprivation forcing me to be thankful for each tiny mercy.
Turns out, though, that Darren’s not really excited by my vision for it. The weirdo.
Sooooo, when this thing came up – well, felt like it was meant to be! It could scratch my itch.
The Conclusion
So, to conclude then: I’m rowing the Atlantic because I want to do something hard. Just me and the sea.
And, the chip on my shoulder, that definitely forms part of my character, wants to rebel against all those (largely imaginary) people who think that someone like me will fail at something like this. And I want that to be totally inspirational to anyone who is inspired by that kind of thing.
And I want to go spend an insanely long time alone, isolated, and reliant on just myself, because I’ve never really been alone. And I don’t know how I’ll react. (But I will be filming it for you – so you’ll find out too!! 😂🙀🫣 (thank you, BGAN!))
And I want to celebrate my loooooooong recovery from Covid by buggering up my body with bum-blisters and claw-hands.
And I want to turn fifty, out there in the ocean, where I might take a break from knitting and true crime podcasts (and rowing!), to have a proper stock-take, look-back moment.
Supporting Two Great Causes Through My Atlantic Row
BUT ALSO, because I know that this whole challenge is just fundamentally pretty selfish, I want to use the experience to do something positive. And although it was super-duper hard to try to narrow it down to a couple of charities to support, it was also really gratifying to be able to do that. AND to finally partner with two smaller foundations who genuinely will benefit from the monies that people are inspired to give. They are charities that will make me dig deep when I feel like giving up after being whacked in the face by a giant wave or flying fish or something.
But more on that later – there will be a Charities Blog!
I love the sea.