Wow. We are still pinching ourselves. We didn’t set out chasing records — in fact, because we weren’t racing, we hadn’t even thought to check the previous mixed pairs times. But after a few days of verification, it’s now official: 👉 Paul and I are the fastest mixed pair to row the Atlantic Ocean East–West. 👉 We beat the previous record by over a full day. That alone would be incredible — but this crossing has also made me: the female with the most ocean rowing crossings, an

Since arriving into Antigua, the work hasn’t stopped — but the oars have been replaced with logistics, spreadsheets, phone calls, and contingency planning. After a lot of careful thought, Paul and I have made the decision to change the plan for the next leg of the Hometown Row. Why the plan changed Forecasts across our intended route began showing developing low-pressure systems. At best, this would have meant an unprecedentedly long passage — island hopping, extended stops,

Where did I leave you? Oh yes — with just over 16 nautical miles to go. As the sun rose and we crept closer, the land slowly shifted from a hazy outline into something with shape, colour, and depth. Force Horizon were just ahead of us — visible on AIS but not yet to the naked eye — a reminder that landfall was really happening. What hit us first wasn’t sight at all — it was smell. For more than a month, the only scent we’d known was the ocean itself: salt, wind, rain, and som

(Covering the last 24 hours) Hopefully this is the penultimate blog of this leg. By tomorrow evening, if all goes to plan, we should be sipping rum punches on the dockside in Antigua 🍹. The first 12 hours of the last 24 were almost perfect — aside from the now very familiar rain showers that seem to have haunted this crossing. We had lovely surfing waves, fast conditions, and were genuinely enjoying ourselves, the only real debate being whether or not to slow down to guarant