Transcending Translation: Offshore Racing in China
- Madeline Mulligan
- Feb 28
- 9 min read

At first glance, it’s hard not to be charmed by Audrey Fulk’s authentic, curious, and welcoming nature. You’d never guess that under her wide smile is one of the toughest women you will ever meet. At 28, her racing resume alone exceeds even great sailors’ lifelong dreams. In 2023 she competed in the Transpac: over 2200 nautical miles across the Pacific Ocean from Los Angeles to Hawaii in a 35-foot boat with no running water and 6 men. It took them 13 days. What did Audrey have to say about arguably one of the toughest offshore races in the US? “Oh, it was hard. I started getting emotionally attached to the spinnakers.”
This year, Audrey decided to raise the bar. I had heard about this race through The Magenta Project mentorship program [1] and forwarded it along to her. The details were sparse: a promise that expenses would be covered, an endorsement from a friend of a friend, a phone number, and a start date less than two weeks away.
Audrey: “There are times in your life when your intuition speaks to you loudly. The second I saw the opportunity; I knew I had to apply. I’ve been itching for a grand adventure since the Transpac. Of the hundreds of competitors in that race, only a handful were women. Getting flown to China to race on an all-female team sounded right up my alley. I’m very passionate about opening avenues for women to get into offshore sailing.”

It wasn’t just any all-female team, and it wasn’t just any race. It was 400 nautical miles in the South China Sea with a team ranging from Olympians and circumnavigators to people who had never stepped foot on a keelboat, but she knew none of that at first. Before she could race in China, Audrey had to get there.
A: “Packing for the race and preparing myself mentally to be at sea was easy. The hardest part was figuring out how to get into China. I didn’t find out that I needed a visa until a couple days before my flight, so I had to drive several hours up to the closest consulate three times to apply. They did everything to expedite my application so I could get it in time. There are only 5 Chinese consulates in the continental US, so I feel lucky that there was one I was able to access at all.”
The stars aligned. Her visa came through, the mysterious Chinese race sponsor booked her flights, her work granted her the time off. All of a sudden, she was on the bus to LAX. Audrey lives by the motto ‘acts of kindness always beget themselves’. She paid for a young woman on the bus who was struggling to verify payment, and later found that same woman translating into Chinese for her at the ticket desk. That’s when she knew everything was going to be ok. After 24 straight hours of flights, trains, and buses, she landed in Sanya, Hainan. At every turn, she faced a whirlwind of unfamiliarity.
“As soon as I stepped off the plane, I realized quickly how little English other people spoke, even at the airport. In Shanghai, I was ushered into a holding room where my luggage was on a table. Even with a translating app, I was not able to understand why it was there and my short layover was running out. Eventually, I realized they were inspecting my inflatable life jacket with a CO2 cartridge inside. I tried to explain what it was to them and what I used it for by showing them videos of sailing, and eventually I learned that two other girls had flown in with the same life jackets that day. That was the only way I made my connecting flight to Hainan; the girls that were to be on my team had landed before me. They had my back before the race even started.”
Despite the language barriers, she found kindness at every turn. A stranger helped her navigate the train system, and a taxi driver drove her to her destination for free. She found the other international girls who had flown in for the event at the resort immediately. “They stuck out like a sore thumb.” In all, there were 12 of them: 8 girls from China, one German, one Dutch, one Russian, and her. The range of skill level could not have been vaster and they all spoke different languages.

“All internationals spoke some English and the Chinese girls ranged, a few spoke English very well and a few not at all. Our team meetings and practices had someone who helped translate. It took a lot of teamwork, but there are innumerable ways to communicate nonverbally: gestures, expressions, acts of kindness. I demonstrated a lot to explain what I meant. At the end of the day, we all spoke one language: sailing!”
Depending on who you are, you may not understand the absurdity of racing offshore with not only a group of people who don’t know each other, but a group of people who have little to no offshore experience. Despite the lack of commonalities, the team began to bond immediately. The event was a One Design class regatta - uncommon for an offshore race due to major costs, but ideal for close, rewarding racing. They prepared for the race over 3 days, getting to know the boat inside and out. All the competitors were harbored at the same marina, so everyone in the race was there working side by side, tuning the rigging, loading the safety equipment, food, and supplies. The hull was completely empty on arrival, so everything had to be installed and set up by hand, a massive undertaking.
“We would wake up, have breakfast at the resort together, prep the boat for a few hours, sail the boat for a few hours, and go into the city for dinner at night. It was a great way to see the city because I was with a bunch of locals showing me their favorite spots. I had my first hot pot which was delicious, and I learned the important phrases in Chinese: please, thank you, trim, ease.”

The day before the offshore race, Hainan hosted a community regatta with local boats of all kinds joined in alongside the One Design boats for a scheduled three windward/leeward inshore buoy races. The One Designs were in the first start, and Audrey’s team was at the committee boat with 20 seconds to go. The boat was loaded up, sails trimmed, and suddenly the boat began rounding up. They tacked, heading straight at the committee boat for a moment, then gybed.
“Everyone was yelling in Chinese. I looked back at Dasha, our skipper, and she nonverbally communicated that we had lost steering. Instantly I began passing the message to the rest of the foredeck. We eased all sails. I looked up to see us heading towards a smaller boat, leeward of us and also on starboard. Despite the shouting, they didn’t realize we had lost steering and didn’t try to avoid us. In a collision, there’s the moment you realize something is wrong and then there’s the moment that you realize there will be an impact no matter what you do. Almost simultaneously, everybody braced. Our bowsprit punctured their starboard side a few feet off the stern to the point where we were lifting them out of the water. It took one of the longest minutes of my life to get free. Once we were separated, we attached the emergency tiller and radioed race committee to let them know what happened. Media boats turned into rescue boats and they escorted us back to the marina. I took pride in my ability to command and assist in the situation and to keep everyone calm.”
They got back to the marina, tied off, and split into groups to start getting the boat back into racing shape. One group went to talk to the other boat to exchange information and begin to arrange repairs. One group checked the internal structure and one worked to fix the bowsprit. The race committee had arranged for teams to meet them at the docks to help get them race ready. They found that the steering cable had snapped. It was replaced and the boat was back on the water in less than an hour. That night, there was a televised opening ceremony. A huge room was decorated with a stage. The event was full of musical performers and celebrity interviews, including the team skipper, Peina Chen, a Chinese Olympic silver medalist in windsurfing. Of course, the entire event was in Chinese, so Audrey and her international teammates didn’t know much about what was said, but everyone was having a great time and they were too.

The first part of the race started on Wednesday November 13th at 1000 CST; they finished on Friday November 15th at 0600 CST. Audrey’s boat, Peina Wonsea, was first off the line after a tricky downwind start. They started strong, leading the pack most of the first day, which felt rewarding being the only all-female team. They raced west out of Sanya and turned north, transitioning into upwind mode, where the fleet began taking different routes. They started watch, but everyone came up for the sunset, a moment they fondly remember as the journey ahead of them became real. The wind got light early in the morning of the third day and the race committee shortened the course. They finished in second place at dawn, and spent the day motoring to the city of Haikou.

“We didn’t speak the same language, but the love and care we had for each other was evident the entire race. We took care of each other. The biggest threat to the racers were fishing nets on the north and east sides of the Island. We had to have someone on bow at all times checking for nets. Three competitor boats got tangled in them, became disabled, and had to send someone down diving to cut the boat free. When we got to Haikou, I spent the night at the fanciest hotel I’ve ever seen in my life. They had facial recognition as the room key! One of my teammates was a local and owned a restaurant. She took us for a team dinner and made us dishes. We talked about life and love and things that transcend culture.”

The second part of the race started on Saturday, November 14th at noon and finished on Tuesday, November 17th at 2100. The first day showed very light wind and a strong current. Everyone was frustrated, but Audrey was in her element due to her experience in San Diego’s light air conditions. She used it as an opportunity to play to her strengths to keep the team focused, which is the critical element to successful light air sailing. They were the only boat that was able to keep the spinnaker full and, slowly but surely, began passing other boats. The men in their fleet began heckling them in Chinese. They let the sight of their stern say everything they needed to say. At the northeast end of the island, the entire fleet stalled in heavy current and light wind without making any forward progress. Day turned to night. Audrey’s team even prepared to drop anchor to avoid drifting backward. Around 2200 they finally had a breakthrough and began cruising down the east side of the island. They were hugging the shore, trying to get some current relief, when there was a jolt, and the boat ran aground.
“It’s a bad feeling, but for any experienced sailor, it’s familiar. We called an all-hands, dropped the sails, and motored out backwards. It cost us an hour, but I’m proud of how everyone handled it. The navigator, Susann Beucke, gave clear instructions and people carried out the plan well. Given that some girls had never done anything like this before, the recovery was quick.”

By the time Audrey awoke from her off-watch shift, the wind had picked up, and they were catching their main competitor. The wind continued to build and the boat hit record speed at 17.5 knots. The crew was elated and finished the second leg in third place, tying for second in the regatta overall. The closing ceremonies were similar to the opening, broadcast on live TV, hosting a multitude of performers and reporters, and all the teams were in uniform taking pictures.

“At the closing ceremony we learned that our boat had recorded the fastest boat speed of the entire fleet. The women’s boat winning the speed record gained us a lot of respect from our competitors. We went to a karaoke bar as a team and everyone performed a song from their country, songs in German, Russian, Dutch, and Chinese. I sang Brittany Spears. It seemed appropriate.
Offshore racing tests you in many ways: physically, mentally, emotionally. I love so many things about it: the challenge, connecting with nature, and growing with the people on board through adversity. Every time you’re at sea is a completely different experience and you can’t predict what’s going to happen. The battle scars, the rashes, the being soaking wet for days and not seeing the sun-- it’s type 2 fun. You’re miserable in the moment, but looking back you’re proud. Hell, you learn a lot about yourself and about humanity. The power of people coming together towards a shared goal despite barriers is a rewarding experience. Offshore sailing unites people in a uniquely deep way because you’re trusting them with your life.”
Audrey’s takeaway from this amazing experience: embrace the discomfort and the fear. “Everyone, from pro-sailing Olympians to novices learned something during this race.”
About the Author: Madeline Mulligan is a sailor, captain, and coach with a passion for connecting people through the sport. She first met Audrey Fulk as a college sailing rival before the two became best friends. Now a Magenta Project mentor, Madeline is dedicated to fostering opportunities for women in sailing. She recently spoke at the US Sailing National Leadership Forum about her journey as an emerging young female leader in the industry. She shares her experiences on her blog, Meraki Alive. Keep an eye out for her upcoming article about volunteering at the Paris 2024 Olympic Games!

[1] The Magenta Project is a global initiative dedicated to increasing diversity and inclusion in sailing by empowering women through mentorship, training, and networking opportunities. Founded by former Volvo Ocean Race sailors, the program supports aspiring female athletes and industry professionals in advancing their careers both on and off the water.
Comments