Day 34: Position: N 23° 23.44′, W 152° 56.20′ | Speed/Course: 2.7 knots / 290°
If every epic adventure needs its characters, then Ambrosia—the 8-meter rowing boat currently cutting across the vast Pacific—has a trio as compelling as any novel. At the oars, you’ll find strength and steel in Bela Evers, leadership and legacy in Wilco van Rooijen, and… something altogether different in Ruurd Dasselaar: the romantic, the storyteller, the reluctant water alchemist, and the artist disguised as a rower.
Ruurd might be the oldest on board, but he carries the lightest heart, even as he bears one of the most vital responsibilities: keeping his crew alive. Aboard Ambrosia, Ruurd has earned the nickname “the Watermaker”—not because he is the machine, but because he operates it. In the middle of the Pacific, where water is everywhere and not a drop is drinkable, Ruurd is the reason the crew gets their ration of 6 liters of fresh water per day per person. It’s a small miracle repeated daily. His crewmates row knowing that thanks to him, they can drink, eat, and recover.
But Ruurd is far more than the water guy. He’s the soul of the boat—the one who brings warmth and color to the daily grind of oars, waves, and repetition.
A Dentist, an Artist, and a Rower
In real life, Ruurd Dasselaar is many things. He’s a dentist, a profession that demands precision, patience, and an eye for detail. He’s also an artist, with a passion for patterns, shapes, and color palettes. That dual identity—science and soul, logic and imagination—runs through everything he does, even 1,500 miles from shore.
As an artist, Ruurd sees the Pacific differently. Where others might just see endless blue, he sees variation. Shifts in hue, texture, rhythm. He speaks about the sea the way a painter might speak of canvas. He’s not just rowing through the ocean—he’s studying it, marveling at how sunlight filters through foam, how the clouds echo the water below, how dolphins dart like brushstrokes through the swells. For him, this expedition is part endurance, part performance art.
That perspective is more than poetic—it’s sustaining. When the sea gets rough (and it has—35-foot waves, 40-knot winds, and boat-punishing storms in the first week alone), Ruurd responds not just with muscle, but with meaning. He frames the chaos with humor. He sees stories in the struggle. He reminds his crewmates that there’s something beautiful in the madness.
And yes, sometimes his artistic soul makes him a bit… chaotic. Ruurd is the one misplacing gloves, cracking jokes at midnight, or stopping mid-row to describe the light on the water. He might miss the beat on a team rhythm or turn a repair session into a philosophical debate. But ask Wilco and Bela, and they’ll tell you: they wouldn’t want anyone else in the cabin.
Romance and Rowing
Ruurd’s romance isn’t limited to art. It’s a worldview. He approaches this Pacific crossing not just as a challenge, but as a love letter to life’s wild possibilities. Where others might race to the finish, he’s savoring the long middle. The moments of shared silence. The flying fish at dawn. The delirious laughter that comes after three days of stormy seas and little sleep.
He doesn’t care much for strict discipline—he’d rather muse, explore, get a little lost in the swirl of it all. But don’t mistake that for weakness. Ruurd is stubborn. Deeply, wonderfully, unshakably stubborn. He’s here, rowing every shift, through pain and salt and sleep-deprivation, keeping pace with Bela’s power and Wilco’s intensity. He won’t let the team down. His friends may joke that they drag him up the learning curve, but they’ll also say that when it counts, Ruurd shows up—reliable, thoughtful, determined to pull his weight and then some.
And let’s not forget: he’s essential. No water, no journey. And nobody coaxes more from that watermaker than Ruurd. In the heat, in the damp, through electrical blips and vibration rattles, he makes sure the team has those six daily liters of life. In a way, he’s the one literally turning saltwater into survival—alchemy on a boat, 2,000 miles from anywhere.
The Man Behind the Oars
What makes Ruurd’s presence aboard Ambrosia so compelling is that he brings something rare to an expedition built on grit and goals: vulnerability and reflection. While others hammer down discomfort, Ruurd talks about it. While some push through without question, he wonders aloud. He opens space for humanity in a place that strips you to the core.
He may not have the resume of mountaineering firsts or athletic superlatives, but he brings perspective, and that’s just as vital. He reminds us that not every explorer needs to be bulletproof. Some need to be curious. Some need to tell stories.
And when they land in Kauai, and others think about showers and sleep, you can bet Ruurd will be watching the sunset, describing the colors, laughing at the madness of it all, and already dreaming about the next canvas—on land or sea.
A Crew Like No Other
Together, Ruurd, Bela, and Wilco are a unique team. They each bring something vital. Wilco brings experience and steel. Bela brings power and perseverance. And Ruurd? Ruurd brings heart. He reminds the crew—and all of us watching—that adventure isn’t just about muscle and milestones. It’s about the way we move through the world.
With humor. With stubbornness. With wonder.
So here’s to Ruurd Dasselaar: the artist with blisters on his hands, the dentist with sea salt in his beard, the watermaker aboard Ambrosia who turns machinery into magic. He rows not just for miles, but for meaning. And for that, we salute him.
