This was our third annual 50-mile paddle, a journey we usually take through the open ocean. As always, we had an intracoastal backup plan in case of weather. And sure enough, Mother Nature—and maybe our guardian Eiffel above—threw us a curveball, sending winds and swells that pushed us inland. What was supposed to end with a celebratory beach landing at Dolphin Plaza, the birthplace of TFH1, became a 32+ mile upstream battle through the intracoastal.
But this year felt different. Bigger. More united.
Thanks to ARE Outrigger, who generously provided six canoes, a trailer, and a support van, we launched with our largest crew ever. Our paddlers came from all over—Washington, Texas, Maine, New Jersey, California, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Pensacola, Lake Hernando, Jacksonville—and even Tahiti. Legendary waterman Lewis Laughlin joined us again, bringing his calm strength and elite knowledge.
The week kicked off with two OC6 clinics, taught by Lewis. Within 15 minutes, he transformed total beginners into synchronized crews. His steady, humble style created instant trust and cohesion. It was something to behold—and we’re already locking him in for next year.
Thursday night at Eddie’s house became our Paddle Platoon headquarters. He didn’t just offer up his home and beach condo—he offered his heart. We’re incredibly grateful for his hospitality, and the pulled pork and local grinds? Broke da mouth.
But as with any mission, things can change fast. Mid-week, our primary support boat dropped out. I paddled out, prayed, and reached out to our Ohana. Within 24 hours, the community answered. Captain Tony Eden, David Hall, Mike McAfee, Will Courtney, Mark Purcell, and Mark Kopp all stepped up. These men didn’t hesitate—they ensured our crews were safe from start to finish. You are now a part of this mission forever.
A huge thank you to Tri H Construction for donating the fuel for Boat 2—your support kept us moving forward and made a real difference on the water.
Saturday morning at 0500, paddlers showed up in the dark—headlamps on, canoes lined up like helicopters ready to launch. We held military-style roll call and “pre-combat checks”—gear, communication, warm-ups. At 0600 sharp, we launched. Chief of Boats Marc Rounsaville organized our formation, while Captain Tony Eden played the National Anthem over the water as the sun rose. Support crews stood at attention, hats off, eyes forward. It was a moment of deep reverence and shared purpose.
Shortly after launch, our first Huli (canoe flip) happened near the St. Augustine airport. Watching Crew 4—many of whom had never paddled together—respond with calm coordination was inspiring. Stephanie dove in and started bailing like a machine. In Tahiti, elders say a Huli is a blessing—you leave what’s been weighing you down in the water, and once you’re bailed out, you paddle better. That crew proved it true.
We moved north, eventually squeezing through the Palm Valley Bridge—a narrow 75-foot passageway with boat traffic moving in both directions. Our support crews navigated that with absolute precision.
Our five new paddlers didn’t just survive—they thrived. Many looked like they’d been paddling for years. Tad, my Army brother from Special Forces, crushed most of the paddle with that unmistakable Hawaiian grit.
And among this group, we are especially proud of Sandy Garcia, who joined us despite a deep fear of the water. Sandy showed up to face something many don’t understand—the quiet, consuming fear of what lies ahead. It reminded us of what it feels like the night before a deadly mission. Sleep doesn’t come easy—not because you’re weak, but because you’re human. And the only thing that gets you to step onto that battlefield… is the teammates beside you. That’s what this paddle was. A new battlefield. A new fight. And Sandy stepped into it—because she trusted those in front of her and behind her. That’s what TFH1 is all about.
Crew 2, led by Lewis Laughlin in Seat 6, quietly pulled ahead and never let up. Every other team tried to chase them down during the final stretch on the St. John’s River, but they paddled as if they had a 32-mile clinic on board—because they did.
We landed on the beach in Mayport and executed a swift and disciplined recovery. Within 30 minutes, all gear was loaded, canoes were secured, and we were off the beach like we had never been there. Mission complete.
Meanwhile, at Dolphin Plaza, our families, friends, and volunteers were hard at work. They set the stage for our return with heart and hustle.
• Angie’s Subs fed 105 hungry souls.
• Nordic Blue kept everyone hydrated.
• Sun Bum and LMNT gave us the tools to stay protected and fueled.
• Sally Harasz, thank you for the homemade muffins for each boat, and even more so for showing up to cheer us on at every bridge like a true paddle warrior. Your energy lifted all of us.
We raised nearly $40,000 of our $45,000 goal, and we’re keeping the campaign open through the end of Mental Health Awareness Month (May). DONATE HERE
Because this is more than a paddle. It’s more than miles. It’s a mission to save lives, spark healing, and remind people they’re not alone.
To every paddler, sponsor, donor, volunteer, and supporter—māuruuru roa. You believed in this cause. You gave your time, energy, and heart. You made this happen.
Until next year—paddle hard, love deep, and never leave a teammate behind.
With honor,
Ricky Van Rickley
Founder, Task Force Hydro1
Green Beret, Retired | Paddler for Life
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