In late 1991, there appeared in our local morning newspaper, an Associated Press article about a Frenchman named Gerard d'Aboville who had just arrived on the coast of Washington State (USA) after having completed a voyage by rowboat across the Pacific Ocean from Japan, a distance of about 6,000 miles.

As a professional white water tour operator, and the owner of World Wide River Expeditions, this feat really caught my attention. I remember distinctly saying to myself, "If I had a boat, I could do that." In 1991, I'd been on the rivers for 33 years and figured I easily had a minimum of 25,000 miles of rowing experience behind me. I felt I could do as Gerard had done, and for whatever reason, it was an idea that took hold of me and wouldn't let go. (It's terrible to be possessed by these types of ideas; they become all powerful and all consuming in one's life, and you either have to act on them, or forcibly remove them from your life. However, removing them from one's life is like surgically removing a part of the body, it's very painful at first, but eventually you get over it.)

So where would I, a landlubber, with no ocean experience ever get a boat like Gerard used. With that question in mind, the search began. My wife worked at the morning newspaper, the Salt Lake Tribune. I asked her if she could find out the name of the AP reporter. She did and I called him. He referred me Gerard's public relations firm Communications West of San Francisco CA. I called them, and said I'd like to be in touch with Gerard. They gave me his address in France, and I wrote him asking for information about the design of his boat, and indicating that I too would like to do an ocean row. No response. He either never got the letter, or chose not to respond.

In the summer of 1992, I was on the last leg of my cross country bicycle tour, having started at the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Oregon in 1988. (Because of my work schedule, I could only afford a few weeks each summer to riding.) My final destination was Yorktown, VA, the site of the final Revolutionary battle in 1778. As I placed the front tire of my mountain bike in the Atlantic Ocean, I was sorry to see the journey come to an end. It had been such a great adventure to have peddled the 4,000 miles across the American Continent. But the desire to begin a new journey, one that would take me across the oceans, was beginning to form in my mind. Being naive about oceans and currents at that time, I envisioned myself, at some future date placing my yet to be constructed boat in waters off the coast of Yorktown, and essentially continuing my bike tour across the ocean to England. (It's great to dream, that what gives so much meaning to life. I have a little saying in my office that reads, "Those who dare to dream, dare to do", and that's kind of been my motto throughout life.)

I was disappointed at not hearing from Gerard, nevertheless, I began my own search for someone to help me design an ocean going rowboat. Periodically, I would look in boating magazines, to see who advertised their services for boat or yacht designing. I called several, explained what I was after, but nothing ever transpired from these calls.

In the fall of 1993, there appeared an article in Outside Magazine of an Englishman named Peter Bird who had rowed from California to Australia. The article mention that he made his home in London. If I could locate this Mr. Bird, who spoke English, maybe I could pump him for information about boat building. But where in all of London would I hope to find this Peter Bird. I didn't have the faintest idea about how to go about trying to locate him.

By coincidence or design, in the fall of 1994, I went to London as part of a trade delegation with the state of Utah, to participate in a trade show for the travel industry. The show was held at Earls Court and every nation in the world, or so it seemed had a display booth there advertising the scenic beauties and wonders of their particular part of the world. I was there promoting my white water rafting tours in the state of Utah. In the course of the four day event, I met several tour operators who specialized in selling white water tours in the USA. On a lark, I began to inquire of them if they had ever heard of a Peter Bird, the Londoner famed for ocean rowing. No one had, but several, upon hearing of my reason for wanting to find him, said that they would make a sincere effort to try and locate him for me.

In January of 1995, I received a fax from the president of White Water USA. After much searching - newspapers, maritime agencies, public relations people etc., he said that he'd located a resource for me about Peter, from, of all places, the Guinness Book of Records. Peter was in the Guinness Book for holding the record for the most time spent at sea by a solo rower - some 305 days as he rowed to Australia. I made contact with a lady at the Guinness Book of Records by the name of Amanda Brooks, who gave me the name of Peter's PR firm, which turned out to be the same as Gerard's - Communications West in California. Through the PR firm, I was given the name of one of Peter's technical support people in California - another Englishman named Kenneth Crutchlow. Through Kenneth, I received Peter's home address, as well as that of Peter's boat designer, Nic Bailey.

Delighted and excited at having an address for Peter, I immediately wrote him the following letter. I sent a similar letter to

Nic Bailey & Richard Jones at the old farm house in Bristol, England

Nic Bailey, the designer of Peter's boat. Like Gerard, I never heard back from Peter; but more importantly, I did hear from Nic. Through faxes, I told Nic what my desires were, and said that if possible I would like to meet with him. In late February of '95, I was going to be back in Europe - the Netherlands and Belgium, again with the state of Utah participating in a travel/trade sales mission. I told Nic that following my business meetings in Belgium, I could fly to England and meet with him, for discussions about the design of a boat. Nic agreed to meet me at the airport and spend the day with me. Things were definitely looking up.

As arranged, Nic did meet me at the airport and drove me to Bristol, where, he said, Peter was working on his boat, in preparation for a second attempt at rowing the Pacific just as Gerard had done several years earlier. We drove to an old stone farm house, about 16th century I believe, where, in a garage of more modern vintage, but not by much, I met the famous ocean rower Peter Bird. Also in the garage was Wiz - Stuart Dietz, a fiberglasser who was assisting Peter with alterations on his boat, and who had built a rowboat for another client of Nic's - Andrew Halsey. Andrew's boat had been completed for a number of months and was sitting in the yard waiting for Andrew to pick it up.

Peter was a big guy like myself, about 6' tall and weighing about 200 lb. His friendly nature immediately put you at ease. Smiling, laughing and joking came easily to Peter.

Peter Bird prior to his first attempt at crossing the Pacific Ocean.

He was simply pleasant to be around. At the moment, Peter had his boat upside down and was cutting the keel from the center of the boat. He said that on his last journey across the Pacific, the keel hadn't worked well, and he and Nic decided that a flat bottom surface would work better. As busy as he was, Peter set his work aside and answered the multitude of questions I had regarding not only the construction of such a boat, but questions about the ocean, navigation, weather, food, logistics, and many, many more. Throughout the day, I spent time alone with Peter, Wiz and Nic as they explained to me the nature of a self-righting boat, how it's constructed, and in general what I might expect once out on the ocean. Nic, Wiz and I spent a lot of time examining Andrew's boat. I crawled in and out of it, tried out the rowing seat, and scrutinized the meticulous construction techniques that Wiz had employed in building the boat. I asked Wiz what he would charge me to build such a boat, and he said about $18,000. Having more time than money, I figured I could do it for less, however in retrospect, $18,000 would have been a bargain, even with shipping costs to the states. At noon, we went to the local pub for lunch - Peter bought for me.

In the late afternoon, I took my leave from Peter and Wiz, and Nic took me into town to the train station where I caught a train back to London. It was the last time I would see Peter, even though we would correspond with each other over the next 12 months concerning details of boat construction, equipment, and shipping logistics. A little over a year later, Peter would loose his life in his second attempt at rowing across the Pacific Ocean from Russia to the west coast of California.

Nic wanted me wait before he designed a boat for me. He thought it might be important to see how the new design of Peter's and Andrew's boat, with the flat bottom and small keel at the stern of the boat performed, before going ahead with a design for me. Once back in the states, I considered it for three weeks, then faxed Nic that I was ready to go ahead. Three months later, in June of 1995, three and a half years after the initial transoceanic rowing bug bit me, I finally had a set of plans in my hands, plans with which I could construct my own transoceanic rowboat. Excitement was running high, and I was eager to begin.