It's has been almost 4 months since I received that initial email from
Woodvale, the organization that manages the transatlantic rowing race. I
had thought about doing an ocean row in a couple of years, but it was more
of a fantasy than a reality. I would say to myself, in five years when the
stars are aligned and when I was a better rower, when I had some money
saved up, then I would go for it. I rowed with Pam Wayne a few times and
she said that it was a fantastic idea, which made it seem more possible.
Still, ask me 6 months ago if I would have a one-way ticket in hand today
to fly to Gran Canaria and I would have been the first to laugh.
As it happened, this last June, I had contacted Woodvale about a
seminar they had held on some of the difficulties of ocean rowing. I had
requested that they upload the video so curious minds like me could better
appreciate the process. Then, as luck would have it, they reached out to
me. It turns out the list of people willing to subject themselves to this
sort of race is smaller than I realized. They said that a boat, captained
crew for an attempt at the record this February. The crew would be rowing by Simon Chalk, the world's most accomplished ocean rower, was outfitting a
in the most advanced ocean rowing boat ever built, the Titan. How could I say no?
My first painful conversation was with my fianc�e, Van. She was surprisingly supportive. Still, I though it best if I tried to ask her
while she was watching the Kardashians. Even though she was distracted, she was lucid enough to understand the gravity of the situation. She asked some smart questions, things I had not thought about, such as safety, food, duration, and cost. I, of course, gave her vague answers. Still, she was supportive and I moved on to the next painful question, asking for time off. My employer, Sun Life Financial, located in Wellesley Hills, gave me their answer scarcely 20 days after my first contact with Woodvale. They were completely supportive and even donated $1,500 to the program. Now, the wheel was fully set in motion. I pulled out the calendar and marked it from day 1 on February 14, 2012 back to October 10, 2011, day 127 when I got the okay from work. 127 days seemed like a really long time, maybe even long enough to get in shape.
I knew this could be a high profile event, so my next step was to ask
Bruce, Chris, and Ellen if I could represent them and the veteran program
in general. I could tell Bruce had his reservations, though he was very
encouraging. I am sure he was thinking of much more complex issues such as liability or what I would need from CRI by means of support. Chris and Ellen were all to willing to put me on a plane right then and there. I
essentially laid out a plan to Bruce and Ellen in a subsequent meeting that
I would attempt to be part of the record and that any opportunity that I
had for press would afford me the chance to talk about CRI and their
amazing veteran program. Sadly, the press appears to want to hear about what I did, rather than what I am going to do so. In some ways my efforts to get the word out has been a bust.
Either way, I had the green light from everyone; I had to figure out
how to pay for such an endeavor. The ticket alone to get on the boat was
�15,000 (~$25,000). I figured my friends and family would be willing to
help, if only to get me out of the house for a month. If I really intended
on paying for this, I would need a significant fund raising effort. I
settled on a gala silent auction. I had hoped that this sort of fund
raiser would do a couple of things; first, it would help pay for my trip,
though I expected to raise only a couple of thousand dollars at best;
second, it would bring new faces down to the boat house, who had never been there before. And, lastly, it would illuminate the terrific veteran
program, which I wanted to grow anyway. In short, the event was even a
bigger success than I imagined. I have always said, you can never know how great your friends are until you need them. Friends I knew and friends I had just met proved their support in more ways than I could have imagined.
In the chaos that was that night and all that went into the
preparation for it, I didn't have the chance to properly thank those who
made it a success. I want to first thank Leigh Terry who helped me every
single day prepare for it. She handled everything from the liquor license
to sticking fliers on the windows. I also want to thank the staff of
Bruce, Rob, Ellen, Chris, and Jean for their support leading up to and
including the day of the event. I could never have put this together
without them. I want to thank Jane Morse for inviting Chuck Pieper, and I
especially want to than Chuck for agreeing to come. Chuck not only won the most expensive item on the auction, a week in Steamboat Springs, he convinced my dear friends Jack and Jeanette Finney who donated their home to donate it again and yet again to Catherine Sheehan and Tom Darling the 2nd and 3rd place bidders. Without, Jack and Chuck, I probably couldn't have done this race. I also wanted to thank my uncle David Morse and his lovely wife Susan, who drove seven hours up from their home in Philadelphia to host the event. I felt it was reasonable to assume that 200 guests wouldn't come out to see me, but I knew 200 guests would come out to meet him. Though, they likely won't see this, I wanted to thank the band, English Tom in the Bookstore and Chris Khang for providing the music and the food for the night. I have a feeling we may see English Tom again. I also wanted to thank Tom Mailhot, who showed his amazing film, Row Hard, No Excuses that probably answered a lot of questions for the guests while simultaneously scared the hell out of them. Lastly, I wanted to thank all of the volunteers, guests, and donors that made it all come together. In the end, the event was hugely successful and I raised almost $5,000 more than I needed. All of the additional proceeds are to be donated on behalf of Jack and Jeanette to the Veteran and Adaptive Rowing Programs.
Now as the days tick down into the teens, the reality of the row has
become apparent. Sometimes at night I stare at the ceiling and wonder what I have gotten myself into. I have checked and rechecked everything and have begun to pack. On Thursday last week, I purchased, with Jeanette's help of course, my one way ticket to Gran Carania. I never bought a one way ticket anywhere, not knowing when I will return. It seems ominous. I think I know what to expect, but I probably don't. I give myself an 80% chance of finishing the race and a 20% chance of actually breaking the record, pretty good odds for someone who never thought he would be in this position. Either way, I am grateful to everyone for the chance.
Bryan Fuller
Veteran & Ocean Rower