Michelle Lee

Australia's first female to row the Atlantic Ocean solo. World record holder 1 million metre row

The Talisker Whisky Atlantic Challenge 2018

Inspired by the book “Rowing the Atlantic” - by Roz Savage, Michelle embarked on a two-year journey to row the Atlantic solo. From learning to row and building her boat, Michelle faced countless challenges and learned valuable lessons about resilience, self-reliance, and the power of nature. This gruelling 68-day adventure tested her physical and mental limits, but it also rewarded her with profound personal growth and a deep appreciation for life's simple pleasures.

Early Life and Career:

I was born in Sydney and spent the first 5 years of my life in Padstow Heights. My father was an earthmover and we moved to acreage at Leppington. There we grew up with horses, cats, and dogs and spent our days riding BMX bikes, swimming in the watercourse, and playing Cowboys and Indians with the kids next door. My older sister would make a damper with my brother and me in hot coals in the ground and we would drench it with butter and honey. A fond memory that always makes me smile. My brother and I are only 1 year apart - my older sister is 6 years older than me. I couldn’t wait to leave school and did so as soon as I could. My first job was banking - which I lasted 12 years. I also worked in hospitality as a 2nd / weekend job for many of those years. Finally, I had enough of the corporate world and decided to follow my heart. I completed my diploma in remedial massage therapy and Personal trainer, which provided a great opportunity to work for myself. This agrees with me and has served me well. I never loved rules and didn’t like being told what to do, so self-employment was the perfect solution. My long-term relationship - 22 years, ended in 2011, which is when my passion for adventure was ignited.

Embracing Adventure:

I was self-employed, plodding along in my safe, predictable, easy, comfortable existence. My yearning to live an inspired life was on my radar. My level of consciousness was rising and the need to bust out of the Monday to Friday, 9 to 5 “norm” was in overdrive. I actually did an assessment of my current status and decided that I was going to just say yes. Say yes to opportunity. To do things differently. I wanted adventure, less predictable and excitement.

The Atlantic - was inspired by a book called “Rowing the Atlantic” - by Roz Savage. She told the tale of everything that went wrong. It was not of rainbows and butterflies. She really had to fight to get to the finish line. But that’s what fired me up. The fact that she was able to overcome every challenge. I remember having several fist-pumping moments as she triumphed over each challenge and obstacle, and I thought “I want that!” So - I just copied her. I rang my bestie - Claudie, one day in May 2016 and I said, “Guess what I am going to do?” “What”, she asked. “I am going to row across the Atlantic Ocean” Well. There you go. It was “out there” I verbalised it. That means - you now have to do it.

Training and Preparation:

The million metres were simply stepping stones. I was not a rower, not an athlete, not elite - so I had to learn to row. This was the perfect opportunity to tick many boxes - my body had to also go through the adaptations to become a long-distance, endurance-type body. The million-metre training schedule was written so that you never have quite an adequate recovery. I followed it for 6 months - without one break or missed session. I trained twice per day, 7 x per week, with an 8-hour row every Sunday and a 6-hour row on Monday. It was gruelling. It was perfect. It also helped train my mind for the boredom factor. Plus, how to row through the pain. I learnt the importance of nutrition and hydration. It really was invaluable and served me well as prep, for the real thing. The Atlantic Ocean rows. 5,000km. Solo. Nonstop. Unassisted.

The Journey from Idea to Reality: A Two-Year Transformation

The preparation involved learning to row/train for the World Record, campaigning - trying to attract sponsors, building the boat and then all of the logistical arrangements of shipping a fully provisioned boat to La Gomera (the start line). The budget was around $200k. I fronted $140k - my divorce money went into the boat, and I achieved about 60K worth of sponsor dollars. I missed the 2017 entry due to funding being insufficient. As it turned out, the extra 12 months in training and spending time on my boat, on the water, was also invaluable. I used to spend every Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday on board and rowed all around Sydney’s beautiful waterways - anchoring in the most amazing coves and beaches inaccessible by foot or car. I used to call it my weekend-er. Sitting on board, with million-dollar views.

Committing to the Atlantic row meant I had to change my life overnight. I had to take in a flatmate - to half my outgoings. Whilst I was training, building a boat, getting all my mandatory licences and accreditations, I still had to run my business. There were a lot of mandatory courses I had to do - to comply with the race entry conditions. They were for my safety and included Sea survival and rescue; VHF radio licence, Remote First Aid (learning how to stitch myself up), learning how to be rescued from a life raft and many others. It was 2 years of t learning new skills. I had to learn how to tow, launch and retrieve my boat. Reverse parking a 9-metre trailer is now on my skill scope. I also got involved in the boat build so that I could learn how to fix things - as they do in the middle of an ocean, in the harshest environment. This put me at a great advantage in building my confidence in my vessel. I knew her very intimately - every bulkhead, nook, and cranny.

Setting Sail:

As I rowed out of the harbour, in La Gamera - Antigua bound, I remember laughing to myself. I thought “Shit. This is it - I am not rowing back into the safety of land” This was the first time that I would lose sight of shore. It was all a bit surreal. It actually took 3 days to row out of sight of land - because we go so slow. I can 2 knots in perfect conditions - that is, with no wind or current against me. The boat was obviously at its heaviest on departure and got lighter as time went on. She would have been close to a tonne. My routine was developed very early on - in fact, the routine I adopted by day 2 stuck with me for the entire duration. We adapt to a new environment very quickly - especially when there is no other choice. Life at sea was eat, sleep, row, repeat. It was simple minus the distractions of 1st world. The noise and clutter that is 1st world. No in-box. No phone calls, text messages, emails. No social media, no Wi-Fi. Imagine that. The routine of making that boat move, maintaining my health and wellness, to ensuring the boat and equipment were working efficiently was all I had to do.

Encounters on the Atlantic:

The wildlife was something that kept me entertained, inspired, motivated, fascinated and in awe. Their interactions become a bit spiritual, The way they would just show up - often it seemed they would appear just as I needed a boost. A pod of dolphins would appear and hang around, playing next to me. Giving me a show that boosted my morale and lifted my spirits. The bird interactions were almost a bit freaky. There was one that hovered next to me, at eye level, eyeballing me. I could feel the wind from the flapping of his wings. Mother Nature never stopped surprising me or filling me with awe and wonder. She had an attitude that screamed “Take me, as I am, ready or not” She also proved that she was the boss. It was in my best interest to work with her and not to try to work against her. That would only see me injured, frustrated, and broken. So, I decided that we would dance. Each day I would ask her “What are we dancing today?”. The fox trot, quick step, or the waltz. When I decided to go with the flow and surrender to her mood, life got easier. It was less of a struggle. So many lessons were learnt in these moments. I always had a tonne of fish swimming under the boat - they love the shade and cover it provides.

Life Aboard My Vessel:

My boat was my house, my lifeline, my everything. She was provisioned to sustain me for 90 days. It took 68 days. She is equipped with an electric water maker, batteries, solar panels, VHF radio, 4-man life raft, AIS, GPS, Chart plotter, autopilot - you name it, she has everything the big boys have got - except a motor or sails, of course. I was the engine. I had 6 oars - in case of breakages. I had a watertight cabin to sleep in and a safe haven in the event of cyclones and hurricanes. My boat was built to specific specifications and is self-righting - in the event of capsizing. My food was predominantly dehydrated meals and loads of ready-made, high-calorie snacks. I also had protein powders, hydration powders, energy gels and cereal. There was a jet boil on board to boil the water for my meals. I slept at night and just drifted with whatever the conditions were doing. My rowing shifts were 3 hours with a 20-minute break, then back on the oars. I pretty much rowed 10 to 12 hours per day, every day, for 68 days. It was gruelling and demanding. I woke up every hour, on the hour, to check and survey the horizon for any shipping or strange things. You were on a low-grade alert, constantly.

Facing the Atlantic's Fury:

In the year I rowed, we had unfavourable winds that pushed us around constantly. I was either being pushed too far North or South when All I wanted to do was to go West. I did not see a hurricane though - I think I have angels watching over me. The biggest swell I saw was 4 metres.

Overcoming Doubt and Fear:

I never feared my life - ever. Not once. I had a weather router that told me what to expect in terms of the weather conditions. He also would advise me on what course to try to hold for the next 24 hours. This was often frustrating due to currents and winds being against each other. It kicks the sea state up and makes rowing very difficult. Dealing with the frustration seemed to be my lesson on the Atlantic. Learning to surrender and go with the flow.

Challenges and Rewards:

Overcoming the challenges to fix things, on my own, on a relentlessly moving platform was very rewarding and confidence-building. I learnt that I am resourceful and capable - especially when you have to rely on yourself. You just seem to find a way. Knowing that serenity is a gift and a privilege to experience in this lifetime. That we need so little in terms of materialistic things. It changed my perspective on what I want and need in life - the importance of following your heart and being in coherence with your head and heart. I love the skills that I have acquired as a result of adventuring. My appreciation for the things that you easily take for granted - like hot showers, fresh sheets, and water in abundance. I learnt how to be present and meditate.

Going the distance:

My million meter involved me rowing for 14 hours per day, for 5.5 days. I rowed 4 x 3-hour shifts with a 30-minute break in between each 3-hour shift. This was to refuel with a 1200-calorie meal and an ice bath, then straight back on the machine for the next 3 hours. I finished with a 2-hour shift and was in bed by midnight. My alarm went off at 5 am so that I could have a big breakfast and be back on the machine by 6 am SHARP! Again, another gruelling schedule to maintain. I took almost 11 hours off the World Record - which was actually held by a German Olympic rower! Not bad for a non-rower.

Reaching the Finish Line:

Wow. That was of pure joy and relief. To feel safe again. Not to have to worry about the weather. My friend - Claudie, was there at the finish line to greet me. She also helped put me back together. You are a bit broken, and I remember telling my body “Your healing will start, at the last stroke” I lost 14 kgs, lost strength, mobility, flexibility, and stability. My first meal was a hamburger, fries, and a rum punch. It was delicious. The dock in Antigua was full of locals and visitors. They were cheering me on as I rowed in. It was such an amazing feeling. I couldn’t believe it and certainly did not imagine this. My last few days at sea were all about trying to soak it all up. To put in a part of my memory to recall later. I remember the last time I boiled water for my last dehydrated meal and I thought “I can’t believe this is the last time I will be boiling water” It took 4 days to regain my land legs. I walked like I needed a wheel alignment. You kind of veer off to one side a bit. Claudine was there to guide me. The first meal I prepared was scrambled eggs on toast in the little apartment Claudine rented for us. It was a pleasure to cook and wash up - with unlimited fresh water. And what about the first shower - this is the thing you obsess about the most. Then - I stepped under the most pathetic dribble - a shower with hardly any pressure. Claudie had warned me that the shower was not the greatest. But to me, at that moment, it was THE BEST! Sleeping in a bed that did not rock took a while to get used to and I suffered with land sickness for 4 days. It is the same as seasickness - except on stable ground. It is a common phenomenon. To feel seasick when you get off the boat. I am grateful that I do not suffer from sea sickness.

Words of Wisdom:

My advice to others looking to make a change or follow their dreams is: “Start thinking you can, and you will was my motto and became my mantra. I also say “Don’t die wondering" - just say YES” I have come to know that when you fully commit - with brain and heart coherence - without conflict, the universe conspires to help you achieve your dream. You have to be clear and without conflict. You have to commit fully and trust - trust that the universe will deliver all the people and things you need, to achieve your heart's true desires.