Great Pacific Race competitors celebrate one month straight of rowing across the ocean.

In a fit of teenage wanderlust, I once Googled directions from California to Hawaii.

The response was something along the lines of “kayak 2,000 miles across the Pacific Ocean.”

“Ha!” I thought. At least Google has a sense of humor.

But Google’s directions weren’t inaccurate. And now they're actually being executed.

Paddling obscene distances seems to be a preferred method of travel for Chris Martin, who has rowed across both the Atlantic (solo) and Pacific Ocean (in a two-man).

His brainchild, the Great Pacific Race, is an endurance challenge that summons rowers (solo, paired or in groups of four) to brave the open ocean in 24-foot vessels.

They launched from off Cannery Row in New Monterey last month.

“We are trying to create history,” Martin told the Weekly before the race.

To race 2,400 miles across the world’s largest body of water demands a certain level of courage—and patience. Some 25 determined boaters (from the original 34) just passed the one month marker of their expedition.

It's been an eventful race.

Two weeks ago competitors Daryl Farmer and Jim Bauer dropped out of the competition, and since then Team Pacific Rowers was also forced to retire after its vessel began taking on water.

After attempting to drain the water first with an electric bilge and then a hand pump, the crew was rescued via helicopter by the Coast Guard.

“We are truly gutted that we were unable to make it to Hawaii,” said the team in an official statement.  “We have been preparing for this race for 18 months, saving every last penny and spending an inordinate amount of time undertaking courses...however, our sadness about not making it is vastly outweighed at the joy of still being alive.”

According to a Day 22 Race report, the four boys have since taken to the open road and have appeared in Las Vegas, San Diego and Mexico.

Back on the Pacific, things aren't as carefree.

“There are always challenges that come,” Martin says. “It’s not easy, otherwise everyone would be doing it.”

Competitors have been coping with “gunwale bum,” an unpleasant rash on the rear-end caused by prolonged sitting in salty, wet clothes.

But at least they have each other to lean on for such bewildering bodily issues, figuratively and literally.

Barry Hayes of team Battleborn admits that sometimes quarters are too close for comfort.

“Being onboard Patience has been a pleasure, it’s also broken down some boundaries that men would normally have between each other,” he explained in a blog post.  

“Now, for instance...Dan [Kierath] is also shoe-horned into the cabin with me, shoved right up against me, he has his pants down and is rubbing his crotch down with a baby wipe…it’s an important ritual to reduce salt sores, but I may need to be treated for post traumatic stress disorder when I get home.”

Sometimes, living without the luxieries of modern day society also comes with tolls. The French team, CC4 Pacific, for example, recently suffered a devestating loss—cheese.

“Sniff. The last cube of comté was eaten!” laments the crew.

Even in a competitive environment, teams have still been able to exercise a level of comaraderie, which Martin cites as one of his personal highlights of the race thus far.

“Pacific Warriors, for example, said they wished they could slow down their arrival so they would arrive at the same time as Boatylicious,” Martin says. “It’s nice that there’s this sense of community between crews.”

Being able to say that you rowed across the Pacific Ocean is an achievement in itself, but saying that you rowed the fastest means bragging rights for life.

Team Uniting Nations is currently in the position to win, and Martin thinks it’s likely that they’ll maintain their lead.

(Check out each boat's progress with a nifty tracker on the GPR website.)

But he knows nothing's guaranteed on the high seas.

“Unexpected things do happen,” he says, “and we’ve seen that time and again through this race already.”