After rowing out of Peru over a hundred days ago across the Pacific Ocean, Louis Margot arrived in the Marquesas Islands (France) on March 8. Since then, boat maintenance, stocking provisions, and especially meeting the locals have been part of the daily routine of the rower.

Louis Margot, first of all, how are you doing?

I’m doing well. It’s already been a month since I arrived, and part of me is still out at sea. Four months alone, it really shakes you. I’m now halfway through my adventure, and my mindset is different: For a long time, I felt like I was just starting. Now I’m at the halfway point, and my next departure will be the last big crossing. However, thinking about the six months of rowing left is tough because the Pacific is vast.

Before departing from Peru, you mentioned you needed “to be alone with yourself.” How do you explain that? Doesn’t it sound strange?

If you had told me that before I left, I would have thought it was strange too. But now it doesn’t feel strange at all. We live lives that are far from our true nature. There’s influence everywhere: social media, constant stress, etc… We never take time for ourselves and are constantly rushing. Being alone on the water allows you to live in the present moment, and it feels good. It may sound strange, but in the middle of the ocean, I’ve never felt as good.

You’ve never felt better, yet about twenty days before your arrival, you expressed frustration.

When you’re nearing the end, you just want to get there. This frustration doesn’t occur after a certain amount of time but when you feel close to the end. In the middle, you’re just in the moment, and you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel: 30, 40, or 50 days don’t make any difference.

I’ve never felt better, but also never felt worse. Alone, thousands of kilometers from the nearest land, I have the time to have dark thoughts. But through those difficult moments, I’ve reached moments of great happiness. It’s not euphoric happiness, but a general sense of well-being.

Has your daily routine changed on this ocean compared to the Atlantic?

I haven’t changed much; I’ve applied what took me time to learn in the Atlantic. Managing moments of emptiness, taking care of the boat, and myself has become second nature. Also, since the sun is much stronger, I started rowing earlier to protect myself from the midday light and then resumed later.

You also decided to completely disconnect from social media. Why?

I realized I was too connected to the real world: I thought too much about what was happening on land, the moments I couldn’t experience with my loved ones, etc… Spending 4 months without social media or news really allowed me to be where I was and be in harmony with what I was experiencing. I really liked it, and I’ll do it again on my next crossing.

In case of a major emergency, how would you be rescued?

If I had to be rescued, that would simply be the end of my adventure. I would activate my emergency beacon, which would alert an international system or the country responsible for the area. In my case, and until I leave the last zone, France is responsible for sending a helicopter—if I’m close enough to the coast—or for instructing the nearest boats to change course and assist me. In any case, my boat isn’t rescued and is left behind.

How do you feel about returning home by bike?

I wouldn’t say I’m apprehensive. I’m actually looking forward to it. For me, returning by bike is the dessert. It’s the smooth descent back to Europe. Of course, there are some countries that are warmer and safer (laughs), so I hope to pass through them with visas, and I’ll listen to the locals and get information… But in my adventure, I’m becoming more and more relaxed. Let’s see what problems come along.

What’s next for the adventure?

Celebrated as a hero in the Marquesas Islands upon his arrival, the Morgien rower plans to set sail again at the end of May. Although he is still in discussions with his route planner about the best course to take, Indonesia could be the final destination. Regardless of where he ends up, the rower intends to reach it without stopping since leaving French territory. The journey is expected to take six months. “I wanted to stop at several islands, but it’s hard to stop. You have to aim for the island, mentally prepare yourself. I don’t sleep for the last three days, and when I arrive on land, everything is in motion, and it takes me two weeks to recover… Once my body is tuned to the ocean, I might as well keep going.”