We’re going into week 5 on the Atlantic and as the skipper I decided that we extend the quarantine and a total lock down because of the corona virus for another 3 weeks. This has severe consequences for the people on board of Rose. As most of us are from the EU, we see ourselves as a floating enclave of the EU and follow their rules:


• The rowers are only allowed to travel quickly between their sleeping place and rowing position.

• While traveling between both locations they should avoid physical contact with other rowers moving between similar locations at the same time.

• While sitting on the rowing positions all rowers should face the aft of the boat so that there is no unnecessary face to face contact.

• Rowers are only allowed to travel quickly up and down to the six shopping areas on deck (hatches) for daily food supplies

• Food is not allowed to be consumed in groups. Only in shared sleeping cabin or at rowing position

• Its not allowed to form groups of over 3 rowers on deck

• It’s not allowed to make any physical contact with people other then the 5-persons crew on board

• It’s not allowed to make unnecessary travels outside of the boat

• Freight ships and oil tankers on collision course will be advised to change course to avoid contamination

• Avoid all unnecessary travel on deck


Well looking at the last rule : Is there any necessary travel left? Yes there is. Going to the bucket to go for a sh…! By coincidence we reduced the travel to the bucket because the bucket position is at the third rowing position and that’s Shane’s position. Shane has an eye condition and his vision is at the moment just 6%. When arriving in Cayenne he will be the first visual impaired person to row from Europe to South America. While we were refused in Cape Verde we still touched the jetty for 2 hours to load 400 liters of drinking water. So as a free extra, Shane becomes also the first rower to row from Africa to South-America. All ready in an early stage of the crossing, I asked him if he also had a condition regarding to his frequently poo sessions in the bucket. He assured me that was not the case. Anyhow it was good that Shane rows at the bucket spot to reduce travel. Shane uses the bucket more than the 4 other rowers together. The rest is using the bucket on average one time a day. Shane uses the bucket minimal 4 times a day but sometime during every row shift of the day what makes 6 times and sometimes even twice per shift. I’m so amazed… where the hell does all that shit come from. Livar refers often to Shane: “You’re full of shit!” And he’s damn right!


It’s Friday the 3rd of April, the day my parents got married back in 1963. It’s the first year Dad’s not here among us anymore. Last year in April, I started to row with my last group “team 5 nations”. When we were rowing in May, my father’s health went quickly down and by the time I could call home from the ocean he was already unconscious to pass away the next morning on the 4th of May. The day in the Netherlands that we remember the people that died during wars, fighting for freedom. There I was in the middle of the Atlantic, far away from him and impossible to be there at the cremation. A while before I went away from the Netherlands I talked with my father about the possibility that he would pass away while I where away on an ocean. In that case I would like to spread his ashes across the Atlantic. The answer was typically my father: “well if it makes you happy why not”.


A week after I came back from the Atlantic I collected together with my mother the ashes from my father. We got it in a plastic box with a cart board label. Looking exactly like a box of gravel where you let your cat shit in at home. As well the outside as the inside remind me of that. This crossing I did not want to take that ugly box on the ocean so my Mum came with another option and gave me an empty pot of peanut butter. “Mum, that’s a bit cheap” I suggested so she bought something a bit more fancy in a secondhand charity store but we were satisfied. We poured my father over from the box but mentioned that part of my father was blown into the living room so we finished the task outside. Last year, I departed later on the Atlantic so this year I won’t be on the ocean anymore on the day that he died.


Reason for me to choose for his marriage day to throw the ashes in the ocean at night during a rowing shift of mine. The other rowers didn’t know my father and I row together with blind Shane so he won’t notice when I throw my father overboard. Halfway the last shift of the day while the rest were sleeping I took in silence the pot with ashes on deck. It was a bright night with a few small clouds and bright moon light. I even adjusted the course of the boat for a moment creating a side out of the wind so that the ashes weren’t blown back on deck but I was wrong. There goes my father. “Bye old man!” That was what I thought but he had other plans. It reminded me of the wind holes behind the Canarias islands where on the lee side the winds are curling back to the islands. I threw the ashes on purpose low over the side of the boat close to the aft cabin. I can’t even remember that the ashes touched the water but where lifted up thrown into my face filling mouth and eyes and blown over deck towards Shane and beyond him into the open ventilating bow cabin where Darragh and Predragh are sleeping. I guess Dad wasn’t ready to go yet! I take a bottle of water and flush the cracking ashes between my teeth away and row on with burning eyes for a while. That wasn’t a success old man so I decided to not share this with the other rowers.


I look into my phone and find the text I wrote last year on the ocean that my children read at the cremation of my father. And yes lazy bastards it’s in Dutch so get google translate!


“Lieve papa,

Maandag 25 maart zag ik je voor het laatst in de Boogaert in Castricum vlak voor dat ik als schipper vertrok om mijn zespersoons roeiteam in wereldrecordtijd over de Atlantische oceaan te leiden. Je zag er goed uit, nog vol levenslust. Je was daar op zijn plek en tevreden. Nooit gedacht dat het ons laatste moment zou zijn. Ik was ervan overtuigd dat ik je weer terug zou zien!

Anderhalf jaar geleden zat ik naast jouw in de auto tijdens jouw laatste autorit. Het viel mij op dat je wat moeilijk sprak en dat je enigszins ongeconcentreerd reed. De volgende morgen vertrouwde ik het niet en werd je met de ambulance naar het ziekenhuis gebracht waar het in eerste instantie mee bleek te vallen. De eerste nacht werd je in het ziekenhuis getroffen door een serieus herseninfarct waarvoor je een paar weken in het ziekenhuis verbleef gevolgd door een half jaar revalidatiecentrum.

Er was dat half jaar weinig vooruitgang te bespeuren totdat je terecht kwam in verzorgingstehuis de Boogaert in Castricum waar wij een herboren Sjaak te zien kregen: “Die troep in Heemskerk is niet te vreten. Hier weten ze wat koken is!” Rolstoel ging weg, je voedingszonde eruit. Daar was je weer.

Je genoot weer van het leven en wij van jouw.

Je racete door het dorp in je mooie nieuwe rode scootmobiel af en toe in een struik belandend of bij een verkeerde flat omdat je toch heel zeker wist dat je daar toch echt nu woonde.

Op de duofiets naakten wij samen mooie fietstochten door de door jouw altijd zo geliefde Kennemerduinen waar je jarenlang in de ochtend je dagelijkse tochten op je elektrische fiets maakte. Je liet mij plekken zien waar ik het bestaan niet van af wist. We pauzeerden op bankjes op fraaie afgelegen plekken, bij de Kruisberg, Uitzicht of patatoloog voor een koffie of een snack. We hadden onze mooie momenten nog samen.

Je was bouwvakker en met jouw temperament, gevloek en getier vloog je van de ene naar de andere baas. Ja je zei wat op je tong lag maar had ook een klein hartje en stond graag voor anderen klaar. Op 80-jarige leeftijd stond jij met je fragiele lijf nog op het dak van mijn carport halve bomen weg te kappen.

Met vertrouwt gezicht zagen wij je dagelijks langsscheuren op jouw blauwe scooter. Toen je al tegen de tachtig liep heb ik je nog een keer op moeten halen toen je niet verder mocht: “Ralph de politie heeft mij opgepakt met mijn opgevoerde scooter”. Ouwe baas! Geregeld sprongen de kleinkinderen bij je achterop om ze naar school te brengen. Wat mooi pap die heb je allemaal nog meegemaakt. Vier mooie prachtige kleinkinderen die je hebt zien opgroeien.

Ik ben nu ver bij je vandaan op een roeiboot op de Atlantische oceaan. Het is hier warm in de tropen. Een dag eerder ging je gezondheid snel achteruit. Toen ik je in de morgen belde waren mama, Mike, Winnie en de kinderen bij je. ‘s Ochtends was je nog even bij maar toen ik je belde was je al in slaap. De telefoon werd bij je oor gehouden en ik weet zeker dat je mij nog gehoord hebt. Ik zei wat ik voor je voelde, dat ik heel veel van je houd en je ontzettend ga missen. Het was emotioneel maar ook zo ontzettend waardevol.

Met gemengde gevoelens roei ik verder. Twee uur roeien, twee uur rust. Dag en nacht door duizenden mijlen van mijn lieve vader. In mijn laatste nachtelijke roeisessie zie ik een heldere vallende ster. Ik doe een wens maar die komt niet meer uit. Ik wilde je nog 1 keer zien. Nu ik terug denk aan dat moment was het rond de tijd dat jij je laatste adem uitblies. Het was een traan die uit de hemel viel.

De dag breekt aan. Jij hebt ons verlaten. Een bewolkte regenachtige dag was voorspeld maar het word een prachtige warme en zonnige 4e mei. Prachtige zonnige dagen daar hield jij zo van met jouw altijd zongebruinde huid die als het mogelijk was elke zonnestraal meepakte.

Pa je laat niet alleen 82 jaar aan levenservaring achter je maar ook je mooie vertrouwde blauwe scooter voor je kleindochter Isis en je fraaie rode scootmobiel voor oma Roos.

Je bent ver weg maar ook heel dichtbij. Je bent in mijn hart en in mijn ziel. Jouw bloed stroomt voor altijd door mijn aderen. Ik ben bij je vandaag. Volgend jaar neem ik jouw mee op de oceaan waar jouw as zich zal verspreiden over alle windrichtingen van de aarde en weer onderdeel zal worden van onze levende planeet. Je zal voor altijd deel blijven uitmaken van ons leven en het leven om ons heen.

Lieve papa. Ik zal voor altijd heel veel van je houden en wil je bedanken voor de tijd die wij samen hebben gehad.

Liefs en een dikke laatste kus

Voor altijd je zoon Ralph”


Other point : I had the idea that on this trip people are eating more than the other years and while we’re almost at 2/3rd the crossing I want to found out before we reach a point that we ran out of food and we will have a major problem. Normally next to all the food stuff on board I pack for every rower 5 meals a day x 5 rowers x 53 days = 1325 meals. Normally after I finish in Cayenne with a group I still have lots of meals left. Mostly of the time around 300 meals. Last year with 6 rowers even more then 700 meals. Yes that was very strange. There were some terrible eaters on board. After counting the meals I was relieved that is wasn’t that bad. For another 23 days we have 4 instead of 5 meals a day left. So we plan to finish the crossing in 52 days. Every morning at 9.00 everybody will get his 24 hour meal pack so we don’t will have surprises at the end of the trip.


Meanwhile a friend of me in France contacted the port authorities and immigration in Cayenne and he came back to me with good news. We have to fill in some forms and send them 48 hours before arrival to the port authorities. Together with that we haven’t had any contact with other people for a long time and we have no health issues 48 hours prior to arrival they will let us in and on land the same corona regulations will apply to us as for the local people. Now just hope that everything will stay the same.

On the Atlantic you see a lot of sea turtles ; a smaller orange sort especially between Portugal and Cape Verde. I saw the large green sea turtles often and only on the Pacific till yesterday on day 32 I spotted a huge one in the water. Wouldn’t be surprised if it was close to 1,5 meters. Her head looked if it was the size of a football. Yes a she cause among sea turtles the females are the largest.

Exactly on day 33 and 0 hours we reached the point that we were 2000 nautical miles away from our starting point in Portimao in Portugal. Well that’s as the crow flies so for our actually rowed miles you can add a couple of hundred miles. Still 1220 miles to go to the finish in Cayenne!


Our progress is slow about all the way from Cape Verde but we can’t figure out why. Our averages daily distances are under 60 miles while they should be more in the 70 or 80’s. Two days before Cape Verde we cleaned the bottom of the boat of gooseneck barnacles. It can absolutely have a huge impact on the speed if the boat was my experience in the past but now it felt that we didn’t speed up significantly after the cleaning. After the islands sometimes speeds dropped ridiculously low till 1,5 knots for a while. Centerboard up or down, replacing weight all over the boat. All did not really work till I leaned over the side for a moment and saw a line of barnacles on the water level. A moment later I felt underneath the boat and was surprised that I felt so many barnacles so soon after last cleaning. The increasing water temperature must have speeded up the growth significantly. A shame that we found the problem a bit late but good to know what it is so we can speed up again.



If we arrive before the evening of Thursday the 23rd of April we will still have the world speed record for Africa to South-America. So that leaves us 16 days !!!


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In March 2021 oceanrower.eu is leaving for the 6th year in a row with crews rowing from Europe to South -America achieving yearly new world records. Next year we leave in March from Portugal again with 2 oceanrowing boats. One skippered by Ralph Tuijn with 9 ocean rowing crossings under his belt and numerous world records. The second boat is skippered by very experienced ocean rower Livar Nysted who has done 5 ocean rows. Former world record holder of the Indian ocean and world record holder of the North Atlantic beating the longest standing world record in ocean rowing history of 114 years!

Interested to take part in our next Atlantic crossings in 2021 go to oceanrower.eu or send me a PM. While currently on the Atlantic messages will be answered asap after arrival in South-America.


From Ralph's Facebook Page