Cornish kayaking legend and former soldier Peter Bray has made it his life’s mission to prove that nothing is beyond the realm of possibility. After capsizing in the freezing Atlantic in 2000 and surviving for 37 hours alone at sea, he returned to the waters in 2001 to conquer the treacherous journey, becoming the third person known to kayak the Atlantic – and the first to do so using only paddles.
That 3,000-mile expedition, documented in his book Kayak Across the Atlantic, was the start of a succession of courageous adventures that have taken Bray everywhere from circumnavigating the arctic waters of Newfoundland to facing the seas of South Georgia. More recently, he set out on a 15,000-mile motorcycle expedition across Europe with fellow biker Harry Glover, covering 25 EU capital cities in just 21 days.
Business Destinations spoke to Bray about what motivates him in his gruelling adventures, how he’s remained focused in the face of life-threatening situations, and how his unstoppable determination has helped him to prove the naysayers wrong, time and time again.
If somebody says something can’t be done, I like to know why it can’t be done, and then prove it can be
What inspired you to attempt the Atlantic crossing in 2000?
[I was paddling up in Scotland] across one of the estuaries, when we nearly got run over by a tanker. I jokingly said: ‘It’s got to be easier than this in the Atlantic’. When we finished I looked at the Atlantic, and I saw that the south of it had been paddled twice… but nobody had ever touched the north because it’s a bit horrendous. I got a boat made, looked at the distance, and gave myself 100 days to do it in. I set off in July 2000.
You had an accident in your first attempt – what happened?
I got 40 miles in, and the kayak became a submarine. I got into the life raft, but Mother Nature decided that was too easy. She sent a wave, tossed me onto the kayak and ripped a hole in the bottom of the raft. Then she tipped it over, so I lost everything apart from the day/night flare and my pump. And so for 37 hours I sat there pumping up the life raft.
It was three degrees above zero, I had icebergs going past me, and my feet and nether regions were completely submerged the whole time while I sat in this sinking raft. My knees were up out of the water the whole time – so after that it took me six months to learn to walk again.
But I knew I would survive. I kept focusing on what went wrong, how I could rectify it, what designs I could use for the next one. And I just kept thinking about coming back a year later. So I set off exactly one year on, and 76 days later I arrived in southern Ireland.
Why were you so determined to attempt the expedition again?
If somebody says something can’t be done, I like to know why it can’t be done, and then prove that it can be. I’d had so much negative support because I’d had the accident the year before, and that was the focus – “I’m going to prove everyone wrong and succeed.” And that’s what I did.
What qualities do you think are important for achieving goals such as these?
At the start of an expedition you’ve always got to think, “What if?” Don’t think nothing can go wrong, because something will always go wrong. I rode the motorbike and thought, “What if I get a blowout?” and I got a blowout. We paddled around South Georgia and I thought, “What do we do if we go ashore and the animals attack us?” – and they did. So you’ve always got to think about everything in advance.
What were the biggest challenges you faced during the trip?
I was paddling through thick fog for most of it and after three days my GPS blew up. Luckily I’d brought an old-fashioned compass, so from then on I used that to navigate. When you’re paddling through fog you have images that you’re going round and round in circles, and you have to keep looking at that compass thinking “this is right, this is right”, all the time.
The only time I thought it would end was literally half way, when the hinge on the hatch I had – which they’d guaranteed would outlive the kayak – broke. So that meant the boat would fill up with water and sink. I called someone who gave me some measurements so I could make my own.
What was it like returning to land after being alone at sea for so long?
I landed in a little community in Ireland and I saw two men, so I blew my whistle and they came over. You have to imagine a guy with long hair, a beard, filthy… I asked them where I was and told them I’d just paddled from Newfoundland. I don’t think they believed me at first. I took one step and fell flat on my face.
After that, for about six months I wouldn’t even put the radio on. I’d got so used to that peace and quiet. I was able to walk properly again within a couple of days, which was quite quick considering I hadn’t used my legs for over two months.
What made you decide to embark on a motorcycle expedition across Europe last year?
I’d only just passed my motorbike test in November of 2013, and a guy in the office said, “Let’s motorbike around Europe.” I thought it sounded like a jolly good idea, so that’s what we did. We visited 29 countries, and we would have done it in 20 days but we missed a ferry by five minutes. I learnt on the ropes. Where we parked the bikes is where we slept.
What was the most challenging part of the journey?
The longest day was 27 hours. We rode from Berlin to Stockholm, battling with tough weather conditions, and at around 3am we started hallucinating. But the most stressful day was in Greece: we were 12 miles from the Romanian border and all the way along I’d been thinking, “How I would I react if I got a blowout?” And then I got a blowout.
We were in the middle of nowhere… We got the bike to a local town, only to find that at 4pm the town and the whole of Greece had shut for a five-day holiday. Eventually [someone helped us find] a little gentleman off a backstreet, who fixed the bike in two hours, and then we set off again.
What’s been your proudest achievement to date?
I was asked to row the Atlantic with three others, despite never having rowed before. We were about three days away from setting the record and arriving into the Isles of Scilly, when we were hit by Hurricane Alex. It snapped the boat in half. The guys put me in for a bravery award for saving their lives, and that has to be my most treasured moment.
What are your future goals?
One of my goals is to kayak the Bering Straits. I just need that one – I then become the only person to have ever joined the northern hemisphere mainland by kayak. I’ve been waiting for years to do it, and last year I got the closest – I had everything sorted, but then I was told to put it on hold due to the situation in Ukraine.
I still want to row the Atlantic after having been stopped twice due to bad weather conditions. I always say the only thing you cannot plan for is Mother Nature. If Mother Nature wants me to do it she’ll let me, if she doesn’t, she won’t, and up to now she hasn’t. I’m waiting to see if she’ll let me.
