Taylan Stulting ’16, who discovered rowing at Bucknell, is gearing up to cross the vast Pacific Ocean.
Waves of Change
Rowing 2,800 miles across the Pacific is a grueling test of endurance, strength and courage. But for Taylan Stulting ’16, a greater mission drives every stroke.
photography by Kelly Davidson
t first glance, horseback riding and ocean rowing might seem like entirely unrelated pursuits. But for Taylan Stulting ’16, growing up in the saddle in South Carolina turned out to be more than just a childhood pastime — it would serve as a foundation for something much more extreme.
When faced with eight-foot waves during an overnight training row off the coast of Massachusetts, Stulting instinctually engaged their core and hips, rolling up and over the surging waters with remarkable balance and poise.
“It’s like riding a mechanical bull,” says Stulting, who is non-binary. “It’s not uncommon to fall off your seat. That’s why you’re always tethered.”
Waves of Change
by Caleb Daniloff
photography by Kelly Davidson
Taylan Stulting ’16, who discovered rowing at Bucknell, is gearing up to cross the vast Pacific Ocean.
t first glance, horseback riding and ocean rowing might seem like entirely unrelated pursuits. But for Taylan Stulting ’16, growing up in the saddle in South Carolina turned out to be more than just a childhood pastime — it would serve as a foundation for something much more extreme.
When faced with eight-foot waves during an overnight training row off the coast of Massachusetts, Stulting instinctually engaged their core and hips, rolling up and over the surging waters with remarkable balance and poise.
“It’s like riding a mechanical bull,” says Stulting, who is non-binary. “It’s not uncommon to fall off your seat. That’s why you’re always tethered.”
The racing event, organized by World’s Toughest Row, pits rowers against each other and the vast and unpredictable Pacific Ocean with the promise of “sleep deprivation, hallucinations, blisters, sores, tears and pain” alongside “camaraderie, self-discovery and unparalleled pride.”
As one of eight boats preparing to set a course for Hawaii this spring, Stulting’s team aims to complete the crossing — a distance greater than the width of the Atlantic Ocean — in around 40 days (with an eye on the world record of 38 days and 12 hours), navigating a wild waterscape with waves as high as 20 feet while avoiding cruise ships and container vessels.
But the challenge is not just about physical endurance or chasing a record. It’s about transcending mental and emotional barriers — pushing through exhaustion, confronting fears and overcoming the isolation that comes with spending weeks on the water with minimal rest.
It’s also about representation. If successful, Stulting, a doctoral student at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, will be the first out transgender rower to complete the feat.
“Growing up in South Carolina, there wasn’t much visibility for trans people, especially in sports,” Stulting says. “This journey is about proving that we belong.”
Callouses and Camaraderie
Fresh off a 21-hour training row this past October, Stulting and teammates Courtney Farber and Julie Warren relaxed on the patio of Mission Boathouse, a waterfront restaurant overlooking Beverly Harbor, about 20 miles north of Boston. Under clear, breezy skies, they compared calloused hands and dug into plates of pasta and snacks, their faces chapped by wind and saltwater spray.
As the breeze picked up and the pasta quickly disappeared, their conversation shifted to the technical aspects of the sport, including how to deploy the para-anchor, a parachute-like device that sits just below the water’s surface, keeping the boat in place when heavy weather prevents rowing. They practiced putting on the immersion suit, a crucial piece of gear that allows a team member to stay dry while performing tasks like cleaning barnacles off the hull or repairing a damaged rudder (sometimes a casualty of marine life collisions). They also reviewed person-overboard drills, tested different row-shift patterns and honed the logistics of eating, sleeping and using the bathroom in cramped quarters.
“Basically, we’re figuring out how to exist on a 29-foot boat in tight spaces,” Stulting says.
“When I first learned about ocean rowing, I thought it was just for wealthy people who could take six months off and buy a boat,” Stulting says. “But this four-woman team seemed like average folks.”
A seasoned world traveler with a taste for offbeat pursuits like roller derby, flying trapeze and skydiving, Stulting was inspired to pursue the same dream. They put out a call for potential teammates on Facebook and interviewed more than 25 candidates across several months. “You have to make sure you’ve got the right people for something like this,” Stulting says. “How do you handle conflict? What are you like at your worst? What is your ‘why’? This journey is as much about the people you’re rowing with as it is about the ocean itself.”
Taylan Stulting ’16 and their crew will row — and eat and sleep — aboard Emma for about 40 days.
Taylan Stulting ’16 and their crew will row — and eat and sleep — aboard Emma for about 40 days.
“On a personal level, I want to know what I’m made of,” Farber says. “This will be a serious test. And as an ally, it’s about walking the walk and normalizing that there’s space for us all.”
Warren, a collegiate rower from Smith College, works as a rowing coach and nanny in Chicopee, Mass. She was drawn to both the challenge and the inclusive nature of the venture.
“It’s important to do hard things in life,” Warren says. “I don’t know yet what the ocean will teach me, but I know it will teach me something worth finding out. And supporting a charity that helps LGBTQIA+ athletes — it’s amazing to be able to support an organization working to make sure we all can continue to have a place in sport.”
Stulting named the team “Oar the Rainbow” and founded a nonprofit to raise funds for Doctors Without Borders and Athlete Ally, an organization working to combat homophobia and transphobia in sports.
For Stulting, the journey goes beyond advocacy. “I’m a survivor of child sexual abuse, and sports have always been a way for me to reclaim my body and rewrite my narrative,” they say. “Doing something on this scale is the ultimate reclamation.”
Finding One’s Place
“I realized that I had the potential to tackle anything with the right support,” says Stulting, who decided to pursue a major in women’s & gender studies. “It was empowering to know that I could make decisions based on what I wanted to do, not just what others expected of me.”
This support extended to their activism in LGBTQIA+ causes across the state. “I missed class more than I should have,” they say. “But my professors worked with me to figure out how to make up assignments because they knew what I was doing outside of school was important to me.”
Braving the Pacific
Designed for safety, Emma is a self-righting vessel. Rowers are tethered by harnesses and lifelines, and the boat carries a life raft, satellite phones and an emergency go-bag. Even the oars are clipped in, with a spare pair on hand. One of the watertight hatches stores the lithium-ion batteries that supply power to the boat’s technology and lights. It also runs the watermaker, which desalinates seawater, producing up to 18 liters of potable water daily for drinking, washing and hydrating dehydrated meals.
The boat features small cabins at the stern and bow: One houses the autopilot and navigation system; the other stores medical supplies and repair tools. Both berths serve as sleeping quarters, with just enough headroom to kneel. “We call them our New York City apartments,” Farber quips. Despite the high-tech gear, Emma offers no luxuries — rowers rely on buckets for waste and hygiene, with “foolproof” methods to tell them apart in the dark, Stulting says with a wry grin.
Like any extreme sport, ocean rowing requires rigorous preparation — mental, physical and technical. The crew undergoes extensive safety courses, navigation drills and radio training. Their coach, Duncan Roy, a seasoned English ocean rower and world record-holder, stresses the importance of mindset.
“Quite often, the biggest challenge is the unknown,” Roy says. “Over the past two years, Taylan has shown relentless drive, determination and focus. These qualities will be invaluable on the Pacific Ocean.”
While the team is still working out the shift cadence, the launch will likely require all hands on deck. Launching off Monterey’s coast is expected to be tricky due to the tides, waves and varying depths. Emma will weigh close to 2,800 pounds fully loaded. “Wind can push a rowboat more quickly than a rower can row,” Stulting says. “A big concern is being blown ashore or into rocks.”
Once the boat is past the continental shelf, the path will be wide open. Stulting anticipates the first few weeks will be cool and rainy, followed by sunnier conditions. Sun shirts, wide-brimmed hats and sunscreen will be essential for the journey.
And when those final strokes are taken in Hanalei Bay, the crewmates fire off celebratory flares per tradition and awaiting friends and family come into view, Stulting imagines stepping onto the beach with wobbly legs and a mix of triumph, pride and transformation. “We have to wade through the water to get to land, and I think a lot about how it will be this almost poetic transition.”
Back at the dock in Beverly, boats are mooring as the sun begins sinking, gulls wheeling overhead. From Emma’s stern, an American flag and a pride flag flap in the breeze, a testament to the team’s mission and identity. Nearby, a pleasure boat flies American and Trump 2024 flags. Despite the political climate surrounding the transgender community, Stulting reports no hostility from other boaters.
“For this journey, being trans simultaneously has mattered a lot and meant nothing,” they reflect. “Once we’re on the boat, we’re just there to eat, sleep and row. That’s all we do.”
The Boat: Emma
This will be her fifth ocean crossing.
Night Rowing
The cabins use red interior lighting so the crew’s eyes can more easily adjust to the dark.
A tricolor navigation light is on top of the bow cabin on about a foot-and-a-half-long pole so it can be seen above waves at night: A white light is facing stern, a red light on port and a green light on starboard.
Watermaker
Pacific Ocean
Nutrition
In Stulting’s bag: Pop-Tarts (cookies and cream), Pringles and Trader Joe’s chocolate wafer cookies with peanut butter dipping sauce.
Land Training
Playlist
Night Rowing
The cabins use red interior lighting so the crew’s eyes can more easily adjust to the dark.
A tricolor navigation light is on top of the bow cabin on about a foot-and-a-half-long pole so it can be seen above waves at night: A white light is facing stern, a red light on port and a green light on starboard.
Watermaker
Pacific Ocean
Nutrition
In Stulting’s bag: Pop-Tarts (cookies and cream), Pringles and Trader Joe’s chocolate wafer cookies with peanut butter dipping sauce.
Land Training