The journey has started

I should have written this update much earlier, considering how much has happened since the beginning of this adventure. 

On May 30^th, a really tough start opened the doors to the life I’ve been dreaming about for the last three years. There is something incredibly rewarding about seeing years of planning and hard work finally become reality. It leaves you with the feeling that almost anything is possible.

The first leg, from Lisbon to Portimão, brought the toughest conditions I have ever experienced under sail. Through the night, under a full moon, the waves looked like moving mountains, black walls of water with silver crests, creating one of the most beautiful and intimidating seascapes I have ever seen. I remember going out in the cockpit after one of the 2-hours shifts and seeing a huge black wall behind Marco at the helm, 4 times his size. I was sure that a wave that size would make us capsized, but it actually flowed under Sara as it was (almost) nothing. Sara is a very well designed boat, and I was surprised of how well she was handling that sea. After seeing Sara response to that wave, I started to feel much more reassured that she would keep us safe. 

We hand-steered for the first 24hours with 2 hours shifts, as the autopilot couldn’t cope with the conditions. We arrived in Portimão at round 17:00 dropped the anchor in a beautiful and calm anchorage, had a delicious pizza, and collapsed into bed. That night, I had the best sleep of 2026.

The following days were much kinder. We sailed from Portimão to Barbate in around 32 hours enjoying a pleasant sailing with moderate winds from astern and beautiful weather (still quite a lot of swell though). The area between Cadiz and Gibraltar is now very famous for Orca’s interactions with sailboat, with many accidents ending up with the boat sinking. To avoid that we sailed very close to the shore (less than 20m depth). 

In Barbate, the world capital of Tuna, we treated ourselves to what was probably the freshest tuna I have ever eaten. The next morning, we cast off the lines and pointed the bow towards Gibraltar.

Although it wasn’t my first time crossing the Strait of Gibraltar, it felt just as emotional. For centuries, sailors have passed through this narrow gateway driven by curiosity about what lay beyond. I think scientists are motivated by much the same force. Curiosity pushes us towards the unknown, often accepting uncertainty and instability in exchange for discovery.

We arrived in Gibraltar around 17:00, escorted by several pods of dolphins. After refuelling and spending a night in a marina on the Spanish side, we went into town for dinner. It was my first time crossing an international border by foot. A fun fact about Gibraltar is that you have to cross the airport runway by foot to move between the Spanish and British sides.

The following morning we officially entered the Med: under very strong winds from West, Sara was surfing at 8 knots escorted by playful dolphins and sea turtles. I didn’t even know that Saras was able of reaching that speed under sail! What a joy. 

The Mediterranean swell felt very different from the Atlantic: shorter, steeper, and carrying less energy. 

We reached Almerimar about 22 hours later, just after the wind shifted to annoying strong Easterly. We waited for the strongest winds to pass while enjoying locally sourced squid grilled on board.

When it became clear that the Levante would persist for days, we decided to move in short legs. After motoring about 30 nautical miles, we reached a stunning anchorage at Cabo de Gata. The water was crystal clear and intensely turquoise, my favourite colour! (I regret of not measuring the radiometric signature!).

We stayed there for roughly 35 hours before lifting anchor at first light on the 8th of June and setting course for Torrevieja, the last stop before the beginning of my solo adventure.

One of the highlights of this first leg was completing the first scientific sampling station aboard my own boat. It took around four hours, but behind those four hours were three years of dreaming, planning, testing, and preparation.

My first attempt few days before had to be aborted when the sea state became a little too sporty, but the second went exactly as planned. Sitting in the cabin, looking at plankton through a microscope while underway on Sara, felt surreal. For the first time, the sailing and the science came together exactly as I had imagined.

As I write this, the solo phase of the expedition is already well underway. The last week have brought plenty of unexpected challenges, a scary close call, and some incredible moments. They deserve a post of their own, so I’ll save those stories for the next update.

Cheers from paradise!