The Amputee Rowers Who Conquered the Atlantic

This story originally appeared on VICE Sports UK.

Four men sit in a rowing boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. They look very insignificant amid the vastness of the sea, and appear to be making no progress whatsoever. Perhaps they are mad. Yet two are rowing hard, while one is navigating their tiny vessel through the vast blue and the fourth is attempting to tidy up. As he tries to slip past the rowers, he overbalances and falls overboard, then clambers back in with a broken leg.

Fortunately he has a spare.

This is no joke. On December 20 last year four guys with only three legs between them left La Gomera in the Canary Islands in a rowing boat as part of the Talisker Whisky Atlantic Challenge. Their aim? To reach Antigua in one piece, claim the world record for the first all-amputee team to accomplish the feat and, if possible, kick the arses of a whole load of able-bodied rowers by beating them to the finish.

The challenge is known for its gruelling nature, regardless of how many limbs you can call upon. Over the course of 46 days, the crew – Light Dragoon Lance Corporal Cayle Royce MBE; former Irish Guardsman Paddy Gallagher; former RAF Flight Sergeant Parachute Jump Instructor Nigel Rogoff; and Royal Marine Colour Sergeant Lee Spencer – known collectively as Row2Recovery, rowed 24 hours a day in pairs, two hours on the oars, two hours off, only sleeping in small, exhausting chunks in cramped cabins. They weathered 50-foot waves, winds of up to 30 knots, and two big storms – one of which became the first hurricane to form over the Atlantic since 1938.

"I wasn't afraid," says Gallagher, who lost his leg below the knee in an IED blast in Nad E Ali, Afghanistan, in 2009. "I've served in Iraq and Afghanistan. I've been shot at, and blown up. I'm used to dealing with fear. Out there on the boat, I knew I'd be able to handle the immense fear of 'I might actually die,' because that's what we do in the military. We face death."

Let's not overstate it. Rowing the Atlantic is daring, but it is also equally monotonous and arduous. Support from Atlantic Campaigns, who oversee the race, keeps the crews taking part as safe as possible, updating them on when storms are brewing, and following a few days behind in a support yacht in case of emergencies.

Still, four big guys on an 8.64-metre-long, 1.74-metre-wide Rannoch R45 rowing boat is hardly comfortable. Royce knew this from experience – he rowed the Atlantic as part of a mixed ability crew in 2013.

"I think ignorance was definitely bliss the first time around," he says. "This time I knew what can happen on the ocean, because it was awful last time. Your bum takes a real beating. And that's not because you're on a boat with four men by the way, but because of the salt sores. The corrosive quality of the seawater breaks down your skin quite quickly if you don't clean yourself properly after each shift, and it can turn out quite badly."

As well as dealing with sores, the team's lopsidedness also had an impact on their physical wear and tear. Royce had a double amputation and lost the fingers on his left hand following an IED blast in Helmand, Afghanistan, while serving in the Brigade Reconnaissance Force in 2012.

"The 'good' thing about my injuries," he explains, "is that because I lost both legs I'm still pulling on the oars squarely, although it's all back and shoulders for me. The others have back issues because they're not square onto the plates with their feet, and Nigel struggled because he has partial paralysis in his one good leg, which meant his balance was absolutely dreadful."

Rogoff lost his right leg above the knee in a RAF parachute display over Aston Villa Football Club in 1998, and Spencer lost his below the knee after being hit by flying debris as he was helping save the life of a crashed civilian motorist on the central reservation of the M3 in Surrey.

While at sea he marked the two-year anniversary of his accident, with a small token reminding him of who he owes his life to hung up in the cabin of the boat.

"I was lying with my leg hanging off, literally bleeding to death," Spencer remembers. "A Rastafarian guy called Frank Sabindi put a tourniquet on my leg and his daughter stood on my femoral artery. Without them I would have died. A friend of mine sent me a little keyring Rastafari knitted figure and I thought it would be quite cool to take it across with me."

While Royce and Rogoff made do without any prosthetics at all, Spencer was the one with the forethought to bring a spare leg. "Moving around the boat is tricky – everyday chores, getting toolboxes out of cabins, and things like that are much more difficult, especially in a confined, moving space. It's hard to keep your balance, so in the first week I almost fell overboard and broke my leg in the process. Luckily I'd brought a spare."

On the face of it, the crew were at a massive physical disadvantage, but their experience and military training was a huge mental asset. "It's very daunting to get away from land, because land represents safety," explains Gallagher. "All around you is the horizon, 360 degrees of it in one big circle and you're always in the middle of it. You feel like you're going nuts. It takes mental discipline to know that you're not going insane, that you are making progress, and to keep going."

Spencer adds: "Physically we knew we were up against it. But mentally we were confident we had the mindset to see us through successfully."

That calm in the face of trouble, plus some good old-fashioned sea-sense, saw them avoid the worst of the storms. "When the second major storm hit we heard about it a few days in advance, so we really pushed hard to get as far south as we could to get out of its way," recalls Royce. "We were caught by it in the end, after working our butts off, but the good thing was that we'd put so much south into it, the weather that hit us wasn't anywhere near as bad as it was for the crews who'd headed north."

So while other teams were on anchor waiting out the weather, Row2Recovery were able to get back on the oars and make headway past them to Antigua.

But the Atlantic hadn't finished with them yet.

"We're rowing in an ocean boat, and we might feel like we're in control, but we're not really," says Gallagher. "If the Atlantic wants to show its teeth, you've got no control over it."

And on their last night at sea, that is exactly what the Atlantic did. "We stopped to have a swim so we wouldn't smell too bad when we arrived," says Spencer. "We'd got good winds and thought we'd arrive in the morning, and then a headwind came up. It got stronger and stronger and we were like, 'this isn't in the script!' It was as if the sea was saying 'I've not finished with you yet'."

Royce picks up the story: "The squalls that hit us were driving us so far south I genuinely didn't believe we were going to reach Antigua. We were still making significant westerly progress, but we might have ended up in Mexico."

"Our last night rowing in became hard graft and pain. It gives you a sense of your own importance, or lack of it, which isn't a bad thing," adds Spencer. "We can all do with a bit of humility."

That final obstacle overcome, the crew rowed in to English Harbour after 46 days, six hours and 49 minutes, greeted by rapturous crowds, a gun salute from the Antiguan army, and a congratulatory video call from Prince Harry.

Of course emotions ran high. "It's always been a bit of a boyhood dream to row an ocean," says Gallagher. "To have an injury like mine and still achieve that dream, it's a strong message. I'm humbled and very grateful that I got the opportunity."

"We weren't rowing for ourselves," says Rogoff. "We were rowing for our families and to encourage other people to move forward in their lives. There's days when it's a struggle, but now my two boys can go to school and tell everyone what their dad did. That makes me proud."

Better still, Row2Recovery were the eighth crew to arrive out of 26 teams, proving that you don't need a full complement of legs to achieve something exceptional.

"When we set out to do this we weren't really sure if it was possible or not," says Royce. "To actually complete the challenge and prove that, yes, we can absolutely compete with able-bodied crews, and have some epic adventures, has been a huge confidence boost for all of us. We've proved to ourselves and everyone else that there is life after injury."

The challenge is known for its gruelling nature, regardless of how many limbs you can call upon. Over the course of 46 days, the crew – Light Dragoon Lance Corporal Cayle Royce MBE; former Irish Guardsman Paddy Gallagher; former RAF Flight Sergeant Parachute Jump Instructor Nigel Rogoff; and Royal Marine Colour Sergeant Lee Spencer – known collectively as Row2Recovery, rowed 24 hours a day in pairs, two hours on the oars, two hours off, only sleeping in small, exhausting chunks in cramped cabins. They weathered 50-foot waves, winds of up to 30 knots, and two big storms – one of which became the first hurricane to form over the Atlantic since 1938.

"I wasn't afraid," says Gallagher, who lost his leg below the knee in an IED blast in Nad E Ali, Afghanistan, in 2009. "I've served in Iraq and Afghanistan. I've been shot at, and blown up. I'm used to dealing with fear. Out there on the boat, I knew I'd be able to handle the immense fear of 'I might actually die,' because that's what we do in the military. We face death."

Let's not overstate it. Rowing the Atlantic is daring, but it is also equally monotonous and arduous. Support from Atlantic Campaigns, who oversee the race, keeps the crews taking part as safe as possible, updating them on when storms are brewing, and following a few days behind in a support yacht in case of emergencies.

Still, four big guys on an 8.64-metre-long, 1.74-metre-wide Rannoch R45 rowing boat is hardly comfortable. Royce knew this from experience – he rowed the Atlantic as part of a mixed ability crew in 2013.

"I think ignorance was definitely bliss the first time around," he says. "This time I knew what can happen on the ocean, because it was awful last time. Your bum takes a real beating. And that's not because you're on a boat with four men by the way, but because of the salt sores. The corrosive quality of the seawater breaks down your skin quite quickly if you don't clean yourself properly after each shift, and it can turn out quite badly."

As well as dealing with sores, the team's lopsidedness also had an impact on their physical wear and tear. Royce had a double amputation and lost the fingers on his left hand following an IED blast in Helmand, Afghanistan, while serving in the Brigade Reconnaissance Force in 2012.

"The 'good' thing about my injuries," he explains, "is that because I lost both legs I'm still pulling on the oars squarely, although it's all back and shoulders for me. The others have back issues because they're not square onto the plates with their feet, and Nigel struggled because he has partial paralysis in his one good leg, which meant his balance was absolutely dreadful."

Rogoff lost his right leg above the knee in a RAF parachute display over Aston Villa Football Club in 1998, and Spencer lost his below the knee after being hit by flying debris as he was helping save the life of a crashed civilian motorist on the central reservation of the M3 in Surrey.

While at sea he marked the two-year anniversary of his accident, with a small token reminding him of who he owes his life to hung up in the cabin of the boat.

"I was lying with my leg hanging off, literally bleeding to death," Spencer remembers. "A Rastafarian guy called Frank Sabindi put a tourniquet on my leg and his daughter stood on my femoral artery. Without them I would have died. A friend of mine sent me a little keyring Rastafari knitted figure and I thought it would be quite cool to take it across with me."

While Royce and Rogoff made do without any prosthetics at all, Spencer was the one with the forethought to bring a spare leg. "Moving around the boat is tricky – everyday chores, getting toolboxes out of cabins, and things like that are much more difficult, especially in a confined, moving space. It's hard to keep your balance, so in the first week I almost fell overboard and broke my leg in the process. Luckily I'd brought a spare."

On the face of it, the crew were at a massive physical disadvantage, but their experience and military training was a huge mental asset. "It's very daunting to get away from land, because land represents safety," explains Gallagher. "All around you is the horizon, 360 degrees of it in one big circle and you're always in the middle of it. You feel like you're going nuts. It takes mental discipline to know that you're not going insane, that you are making progress, and to keep going."

Spencer adds: "Physically we knew we were up against it. But mentally we were confident we had the mindset to see us through successfully."

That calm in the face of trouble, plus some good old-fashioned sea-sense, saw them avoid the worst of the storms. "When the second major storm hit we heard about it a few days in advance, so we really pushed hard to get as far south as we could to get out of its way," recalls Royce. "We were caught by it in the end, after working our butts off, but the good thing was that we'd put so much south into it, the weather that hit us wasn't anywhere near as bad as it was for the crews who'd headed north."

So while other teams were on anchor waiting out the weather, Row2Recovery were able to get back on the oars and make headway past them to Antigua.

But the Atlantic hadn't finished with them yet.

"We're rowing in an ocean boat, and we might feel like we're in control, but we're not really," says Gallagher. "If the Atlantic wants to show its teeth, you've got no control over it."

And on their last night at sea, that is exactly what the Atlantic did. "We stopped to have a swim so we wouldn't smell too bad when we arrived," says Spencer. "We'd got good winds and thought we'd arrive in the morning, and then a headwind came up. It got stronger and stronger and we were like, 'this isn't in the script!' It was as if the sea was saying 'I've not finished with you yet'."

Royce picks up the story: "The squalls that hit us were driving us so far south I genuinely didn't believe we were going to reach Antigua. We were still making significant westerly progress, but we might have ended up in Mexico."

"Our last night rowing in became hard graft and pain. It gives you a sense of your own importance, or lack of it, which isn't a bad thing," adds Spencer. "We can all do with a bit of humility."

That final obstacle overcome, the crew rowed in to English Harbour after 46 days, six hours and 49 minutes, greeted by rapturous crowds, a gun salute from the Antiguan army, and a congratulatory video call from Prince Harry.

Of course emotions ran high. "It's always been a bit of a boyhood dream to row an ocean," says Gallagher. "To have an injury like mine and still achieve that dream, it's a strong message. I'm humbled and very grateful that I got the opportunity."

"We weren't rowing for ourselves," says Rogoff. "We were rowing for our families and to encourage other people to move forward in their lives. There's days when it's a struggle, but now my two boys can go to school and tell everyone what their dad did. That makes me proud."

Better still, Row2Recovery were the eighth crew to arrive out of 26 teams, proving that you don't need a full complement of legs to achieve something exceptional.

"When we set out to do this we weren't really sure if it was possible or not," says Royce. "To actually complete the challenge and prove that, yes, we can absolutely compete with able-bodied crews, and have some epic adventures, has been a huge confidence boost for all of us. We've proved to ourselves and everyone else that there is life after injury."