By Jessica Lipsky
If the only thing you’ve ever rowed is a machine at the gym, Sonya Baumstein is about to put your reps to shame. In April, the 28-year-old Florida native will battle a constant deluge from the Pacific Ocean, bouts of inclement weather, and harrowing winds as she attempts a solo row from Choshi, Japan, to San Francisco. A world traveler, multi-sport athlete, and all-around badass, Baumstein wants to be the first woman to traverse 6,000 miles of current — for science and bragging rights.
This won’t be her first time putting oar to sea on what might seem like a crazy journey. Since 2011, she’s rowed the Atlantic to the Caribbean, paddle-boarded across the Bering Strait, and rowed from Washington State to Alaska. Oh, and she once rode her bike against headwinds from the Mexican border to Seattle, no big deal.
Baumstein will set sail from Japan around April 10 and expects the journey to take up to 180 days along one of three Pacific currents. She’ll pack about 1,200 pounds of dehydrated food, drink 5 liters of desalinated water per day, and keep in touch with the shore by GPS. I spoke with Baumstein about the risks — and wonders — of her upcoming adventure.
How did you become such a badass?
I rowed in high school and college; I was in a pretty big accident that ended my rowing career, and I always felt there was a void there. I was working in nonprofits dealing mostly with single women with children and poverty issues. I was also teaching on the University of Central Florida coaching crew, but I didn’t feel fulfilled. I’m a workaholic, and I felt that was the first time in my life to say ok, let’s do something big. My friend suggested ocean rowing, so three men and I rowed from Florida to Barbados in January 2012.
What drives you?
I’m the best version of me when I’m out there doing this stuff. You’re at the will of nature, but you’re the master of your own destiny at that point. There’s uncertainty daily on the ocean. It almost feels like it’s a gift if you’re successful.
What made you choose this route to San Francisco?
I have friends in San Francisco, and I like the tenor of the SF marine community. I’ve gotten a lot of help from the St. Francis Yacht Club, and Golden Gate [Yacht Club] helped a previous boat. The challenge of getting into the bay is noteworthy because there are 12 hours a day when I can get in with the current. It’s too deep for me to drop an anchor, so it may take two to four days to get in.
You and a team custom built a boat for this trip. What’s special about it?
I’ll be five feet off the water in a carbon boat that weighs 350 kilos loaded up. It has a large bow cabin where I cook and eat and where my vital systems connect. There’s a storage cabin, rear storage cabin, swing center board (which is a unique feature) and it’s light. I also have a bunch of electronics in place: an AIS that beeps when a boat is close to you and tells you their call sign; I have flares on board and can call a duty officer, who can call the Coast Guard; I have an electric desalinator and a hand-pump water desalinator.
What are the biggest dangers you face?
If waves are tall enough and wind is high enough, I can roll seven to 10 times down the face of a wave like a washing machine; a lot of my equipment wouldn’t survive. I expect to have one to two rolls. In heavy winds, I have floodable hatches belowdeck to make sure the boat is super heavy and has a lower center of gravity. If I do need a rescue and am less than 250 miles offshore, that’s Coast Guard range. After that, I would use a personal locator beacon or hydrostatic device [a device set off by water] that’s mounted on the outside wall of the boat. There’s also a high chance of dehydration, so I have a lot of supplements with electrolytes, an extensive medical kit, and someone on call 24 hours a day. I also have a wilderness EMT certification and started learning how to run IVs on myself as a preemptive measure to sickness.
180 days is a long time to be alone. How will you pass the time?
There isn’t a lot of spare time; it’s a lot of boat management and not a lot of sleep. If you have time to sleep you just do it. I’ll listen to books on tape, but there’s really always so much to do on a boat in the ocean — it’s surprising.
You’re also busy with a unique mission from NASA.
Yeah, I’m collecting scientific data to monitor the Aquarius satellite, which looks at worldwide ocean temperature and salinity to understand El Nino and climate change. I’m also working with Liquid Robotics in SF and SonTek in San Diego to collect surface data within the first three feet of the Pacific Ocean; they’ve never gotten consistent data before. Every half hour, my boat takes eight samples then beams them up. The data live streams from my boat and will be on open source website for scientists and classrooms to log into.
What do you want to do when you get into SF?
I’ll want to eat food that’s hot and not from a bag! It’s likely going to be veggies since I don’t have any out there. I will want to drink a dirty martini, and Anchor Steam will throw a party for me when I get in. Mission Chinese will be great, and I would like bread from Tartine.
It’ll take four to five days to get my land legs back since I’ll have lost a lot of muscle mass from only standing a few minutes a day. Gravity is really painful when you get back. I also get extreme tendinitis in my hands from rowing so long — we call it claw hand — and I can’t really close them. That takes about a month to go away.
What’s your next adventure?
I’d like to do a circumnavigation, bike the US, row the Atlantic to France, then figure out how to get back to Japan.
Photos courtesy of Sonya Baumstein
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