Isaac Giesen is preparing for months alone at sea to raise money for the fight against depression. YouTube / The Blue Rower
Somewhere on the 4700km stretch of ocean between the Canary Islands and Antigua over the next couple of months, Isaac Giesen will host a Mexican night.
The Christchurch-born 25-year-old will be the life and only soul of the party, when he briefly rests the oars on his vessel Bonnie Lass in the bid to become the first New Zealander to row solo across the Atlantic.
He will have knocked up – read "added water to" – a dehydrated chili con carne, and reached into his larder for some tortillas and tacos.
A lack of fresh avocado in the vicinity means he will hold on the guacamole; there will be no piñata to bash for dessert treats; and sunrises will be based on his whereabouts in relation to Africa rather than tequila. However, a sombrero might make the do. Hats capable of covering his thatch of "Jesus" hair are hard to come by.
Thai and Indian nights are also possibilities on a journey expected to take 60 days, and Giesen will regularly sling a baited hook overboard to catch fresh fish. Any spoils can be filleted on a chopping board built into the port side gunwale.
Whatever ends up on the menu, it is for a cause close to his heart.
Giesen lost an aunt and two mates to suicide in recent years. Their names – Paula, Ben and Jerry – are painted next to his boat's cabin entrance. The objective is to complete the Talisker Whisky Atlantic Challenge to fundraise $1 million in the name of mental health for the Bravehearts, Black Dog Institute and Victim Support charities. Earlier this week $18,357 had been secured for his campaign, The Blue Rower.
Giesen knows eating on the voyage is less about Michelin-star meals and more about chowing enough energy for stints on the oars. He leaves on Tuesday and expects to shed 20-30kgs from his 110kg frame en route.
"My meals are about 700-900 calories each. I'll have breakfasts of oats and fruit and I've got plenty of orzo bolognaise and mushroom risotto.
"I spent 450 quid on nuts, seeds and dried fruit, and went to an Asian supermarket in England and spent 140 quid there, as well as getting a pestle-and-mortar and a wok."
The Blue Rower Isaac Giesen will man the oars of Bonnie Lass in a trans-Atlantic solo voyage. Photo / Supplied
Rowing training has been coupled with meditation and yoga to prepare for a journey as much about mental as physical endurance. Giesen was once a surf lifesaver at Taylors Mistake, but never rowed competitively. He intends to break each day into six slots of three hours on, one hour off.
Exhaustion will inevitably loom.
Giesen cites the case of Leven Brown – who has rowed 30,000 nautical miles on various routes around the world – being forced to open a bag of potato chips by sitting on them after battling through a hurricane.
Brown is mentoring Giesen. He told the Kiwi his erg scores, with an average 2m 19s split for each 500m, mean his fitness is "as good as it can get" for the task.
"I know I can do more, but I still expect to get broken out there," Giesen says.
"I'm hoping it helps that I can read surf to know when to stroke and maximise the power of the waves.
"I also completed my yacht masters course last year in the Canarys [including more than 5000 sailing hours] which helped me understand swells."
The boat park on the island of La Gomera has provided solidarity.
Giesen has mingled with fellow single scullers, and those competing in doubles and quads. Bonnie Lass is one of the oldest vessels in the fleet but is "made with love" and "seamless finishings". A parachute anchor can be unleashed if, to quote yachting commentator PJ Montgomery, he's faced with "liquid Himalayas".
"There is an anxiousness and awkwardness in waiting for the start, but she [Bonnie Lass] is a good, sturdy girl.
"That was backed up when I talked to one of the crew who had previously rowed her to Holland across the North Sea in 40 knot winds.
"I've also put a daggerboard in, so it's like a dinghy. That will help with the lateral grip on the water, otherwise you're just relying – and putting pressure - on the rudder."
The planning process, including an "idiot-proof" safety list, has built Giesen's confidence.
Fixed and handheld GPS units are onboard, alongside VHF units and charts to plot a daily position; a water-maker and manual back-up can pump out 28 and two litres an hour respectively; SPF50 sunscreen and zinc applications will fend off the sun; and doctors are on call for medical emergencies.
But why go to such extremes?
"The answer is 'why not?'" Giesen says.
"I don't have an answer to why my aunty and two mates did that. In fact, it'll always be a demon question in the back of my mind, so while I'm still living and breathing, why not live life to the full.
Giesen says he has never been diagnosed with depression, but that should not stop New Zealanders talking about it.
"I went through one spell where I'd wake up unhappy. I kept telling myself 'tomorrow will be better'.
"If I ever did have depression, the best way for me to deal with it would be through exercise, to control those inner thoughts.
"I don't want to be that New Zealand man who won't talk about his feelings."
