My Sailing Journey - and why trying new things is so worth it
Exactly two years ago, on the 3rd of July 2024, I sailed for the very first time. Sailing had never been on my radar. Growing up in the mountains of Germany, I didn’t know anyone who sailed. A few years prior, the magic of the ocean had started drawing me in, with all its hidden surprises, and wild, breathtaking creatures. So, when I got the opportunity to go sailing, I didn’t hesitate. It felt like this was the door, the door I had subconsciously been waiting for, that I had been wanting to open so badly for a while now. For me, this experience meant I would learn to understand the ocean, when up to that point all I could ever do was wonder. Wonder what else there was to it. Wonder how it would feel to be a part of it, to be one with it.
My “first time sailing” turned into almost three months aboard a beautiful catamaran, sailing 4,815 nautical miles from Indonesia to the Seychelles, crossing the Indian Ocean. I didn’t fully grasp it at the time, but this experience shaped me in ways I never knew possible. I found the happiest version of myself, surrounded by nothing but blue, the forces of nature, and the magic behind it all. Discovering this part of myself felt like finally finding the missing puzzle piece, the key to where I feel most alive, where I belong.
The challenges we faced during this crossing were greater than I could’ve imagined, the ocean and the wind taught me quickly never to underestimate their power - and to always have a spare part …for everything. During massive storms, we lost one of our rudders, ripped our sails more times than we could count, and found jerry-rigged solutions for our many failed systems. We had to change our route multiple times, but didn’t fail to find the most incredible places I have ever seen on this earth - even when it took us fifteen days at sea to get there. The Chagos Archipelago out of them all, will always be closest to my heart. Never have I felt closer to the heart of everything beautiful and pure. A place so remote, so raw and secretive, I can only pray it will never fall into the traps of humankind.
After sailing across my first ocean, the urge to go sailing again kept pulling me back. I went on a two-week sailing trip between jobs in Australia, soaking up everything I could learn about the wind, the waves and the sails, and exploring yet another beautiful corner of the Indian Ocean, the Abrolhos Islands. But that simply wasn't enough. It only hooked me more.
Only eight months ago, I found myself in Florida, visiting the first incredible friendship the sailing world had gifted me, when I got a spot as a crew member on my first delivery. Hand-steering a newly purchased 1972 Morgan 40 ketch from Fort Myers down to the Florida Keys and up to West Palm Beach. The first ever monohull I’d ever stepped foot on. Ever since I started sailing, I'd had a feeling I wasn't meant for catamarans. There was something about any beautiful monohull I saw on the horizon that drew me in instantly. And I was right. The way these boats guide you through the elements, not allowing you to miss the slightest breeze picking up or the tiniest change in current and swell, is captivating.
This delivery made me eager for more. Soon enough, I found a captain looking for crew to sail his boat across the North Atlantic Ocean, from Annapolis, USA, to the Virgin Islands in the Caribbean. The crossing turned into a three-week, 1,900-nautical-mile journey. We had to be towed into North Carolina after running into engine trouble in the Gulf Stream and had to attempt the crossing a second time from there. Little did I know, this would be the start of a five-month sailing season in the Caribbean, aboard three different boats. What began as a delivery turned into a newfound floating home aboard the White Rabbit, exploring all the way down to the southern tip of the Eastern Caribbean. The journey on this boat was truly eye-opening for me, marked by so many firsts. I experienced all faces of the North Atlantic, learned how to be a liveaboard cruiser, went through a short refit period, met incredible people welcoming me into the sailing community with wide open arms, saw islands I’d never even heard of, sailed a multi-day passage double-handed, and so much more. Safe to say I pushed myself beyond, grew my sailing knowledge and skills, and most importantly, grew my confidence. Confidence to call myself a sailor, but also confidence that the dream of owning and sailing my very own boat is not as distant and untouchable as I thought.
Moving aboard an engineless 1977 Tayana 37 for my next Caribbean adventure deepened that confidence. Sailing double-handed from Bequia to Dominica, I learned to make the best possible use of the wind, without the comfort of simply turning on the engine when the wind comes from an unfavorable direction. It becomes problematic when the wind drops out and you get stuck in growing swell, pushing you onto the rocky lee shore of an island - which is exactly what happened. But, as with all the previous challenges, we made it out and had the chance to explore the breathtaking island of Dominica.
Sooner than expected, the next opportunity fell into my lap. Six weeks as a nanny aboard a catamaran, looking after two young boys and teaching their parents the lines of their new floating home. Together we cruised the Virgin Islands and Puerto Rico, and eventually crossed over to the Bahamas, where my sailing season would end. Being the more seasoned sailor aboard was a new and challenging experience, trying to give the right advice, taking over route-planning, and keeping a close eye on weather and conditions was intense… but so worth it - pro tip: building sandcastles with two ocean-obsessed boys helps clear your head!
And here we are now. It’s only been two years since I first discovered sailing, two months since I left the last boat - and I absolutely cannot wait to feel the salty wind in my hair again. All the unique experiences, close calls, wildlife encounters, bruises, new friendships, otherworldly nature, sweat, and tears, melt together into this ultimate package of life, as abundant and fulfilling as it gets.
That’s why I’m committing. Sailing is what I want to do, sailing is what I will do. Next year, I am buying my first sailboat. Try and stop me!