Paul Lore
The World's Toughest Row and Beyond. The Motivation Behind The Row.
The First Time I Met Paul
I met Paul Lore several days after moving to Fernandina Beach. I don’t know if he remembers, but I do. He’s one of those people you don’t forget easily. My brother and I had just driven all of my possessions across the country, and we stopped downtown to look around and grab a drink. One of the places we wandered into was PJD’s. Sitting around the corner of the bar was an interesting guy named Paul. With his infectious laugh and good humor, he had a lasting impression as he does with everyone he meets.
We talked for a bit, then went our separate ways—until a few months later, when I started seeing him more often and our conversations grew longer.
Making Hometown Feel Like Home
(The Happy Face Behind The Bar)
Fast-forward six years and I’ve come to know Paul as part of the heart of this community.
You’ll see him just about everywhere—
whether it’s:
riding in a parade
speaking at the high school
surfing
master of ceremonies at festivals
showing up at a town hall meeting
promoting a charity
working out at the gym
or just relaxing at a local eatery
He’s everywhere. And I became curious—how does he do it all, and why?
So Laura and I met with Paul the other day to find out what makes him tick, and to hear about his latest rowing endeavor.
Hometown Row: Three Crossings, One Mission
(Always Practicing)
In case you didn’t know, Paul has already rowed across the Atlantic, and from California to Hawaii—for charity. And he’s about to row the Atlantic again.
After Thanksgiving, he will begin The World’s Toughest Row from La Gomera to Antigua. It’s a grueling 3000 mile crossing. This time he’ll row with Dawn Smith of England (rowaurora.co). Their combined charities are:
This row is the first part of a three-leg journey called Hometown Row:
La Gomera → Antigua (Dec 2025)
Antigua → Fernandina Beach (Feb 2026)
Newfoundland → UK → Dawn’s hometown (June 2026)
Where the Drive Comes From
When we asked Paul why he does so much charity work, the answer was layered. He made a promise to himself that after retiring he would devote more time to philanthropy.
“I may not be rich, but I’m rich in time,” he says.
One thing that many people don’t know: Paul was adopted as a baby. The selflessness of that choice helped to shape him. His father was the kind of man who “put people first—people made the difference to him.” His mother, “a small Italian woman”, took him traveling every winter break: Panama, Portugal, Caribbean islands—every year until he graduated high school. That exposure gave him his love of exploration and learning.
Ironically, his parents “didn’t know how to swim a stroke” but they loved the ocean, bought a boat, and made family trips to Fire Island. Having been raised on Long Island myself, I understand that pull—the way the ocean shapes you.
After high school and some oceanography studies, Paul joined the Marines. There he worked under Major Ronning, a leader who “always had a way to connect with people—always put people first and led with the heart.” Paul also experienced loss when a fellow air traffic controller and Navy veteran took their own life.
When you weave all these threads together, you begin to see why Paul spends his time helping others.
What the row really requires
Paul recently spoke at the local high school and asked a class how long they thought it took to row across the Atlantic Ocean in a row boat.
“Everybody comes up with the standard 40 days, 50 days, 120 days, but then when I tell them it took us 1096 days to actually row across the ocean and that means the day you had the idea the day you bought the boat, the days you had people doing fundraisers, the days on training rows, the days you failed, the days at the gym, people don’t realize those are all days it took to get across the ocean.”
For Paul, the row isn’t about personal glory. Paul says the row is really about the people, the community, the charities, and not about him getting in a boat and rowing.
“I’m not the hero. The person living with tumors, the person on the frontlines seeing loss of life, the person struggling with suicidal thoughts and still showing up the next day—those are the heroes.”
Not a One-Man Mission
(Having Fun With The Sports Illustrated Pose)
Paul is quick to point out that none of this happens alone.
Behind the scenes is his partner, Ruth Maestre—managing his schedule, prepping gear and food for each leg, running social media while he’s gone, keeping everything moving. Like Paul, Ruth was also in air traffic control. In the 1990s, she and a girlfriend flew the London-to-Sydney race in a modified Grumman. Paul laughs: “She’s got crazy stories—imagine two women trying to refuel in the Middle East in the 90s.”
He says, “The family of rowers that do this kind of event, they are pretty spectacular because they have to put up with a lot, they have to put up with our moods, the logistics, the long time away, the increase of risk in your lifestyle.”
Paul also wants to mention the contributions of:
Kevin Maines, who manages Paul’s Cross the Line Foundation website.
Mike Nichols, who custom hand-built a spare daggerboard for the California-to-Hawaii row.
Where He Feels at Home
Ruth And Paul (Photo Courtesy Paul Lore)
Where is Paul’s happy place?
The ocean, of course.
“I love jumping in the water and taking pictures of waves. It’s a relaxing moment for me.”
He adds:
“I love the excitement of being in a bigger hurricane wave, when it’s closing in, and trying to snap until the last minute and then duck under.”
Headed to His Happy Place
Words and Photography by Robert Milici