My First Ocean Crossing

A mixture of excitement and nervousness kept me awake in the days leading up to my flight to the Canary Islands. I was about to embark on a journey that would take me across the Atlantic—my first ocean crossing. I was joining the crew of Amundsen, a sailboat destined for Puerto Williams, far at the southern tip of Chile.

As my taxi pulled up to the marina, I caught my first glimpse of Amundsen docked in its full glory. Having read up on the boat and following the blog of the sister ship ‘Vinson of Antartica’ she looked exactly as expected!  Stepping onto the dock, I seemed to suddenly realise. This would be home for the next few weeks.

The captain greeted me warmly and welcomed me aboard, but the air was thick with the busyness of final preparations for the passage. I felt an urge to help, to become part of the crew rather than just a guest, after all I am here to become a better skipper myself. Fortunately, I got my wish. Within moments of stepping aboard, I found myself helping to slip one of the ropes in preparation for a short trial run. After some deep cleaning and the engineers resolving some minor issues. The boat was almost ready to depart. That evening, we all shared a final dinner in Las Palmas, I never knew there were so many ways to eat calamari! After dinner we said some goodbyes as tomorrow, we would set sail for Punta del Este.

We fueled up in the early afternoon of Friday the 13th and at 16:00, the ropes came off, and Amundsen glided away from the dock. Shortly after, the sails unfurled, and the boat picked up speed. For a moment, I felt a sense of relief. All the nervousness I had carried with me disappeared the moment the boat sailed out of the marina. It was replaced by an overwhelming sense of adventure.

Amundsen leaving Canary Islands

Living at sea for days on end takes some getting used to. The world felt both infinitely large and strangely small at the same time. The horizon stretched endlessly in every direction. There was no land in sight, no other boats for miles—just the vast expanse of the ocean. It made everything else feel distant and insignificant. My priorities have shifted from whatever worries or commitments I had left on land to the immediate tasks of life aboard Amundsen. We are in our own little world.

The routine aboard is strict. We work in shifts, each crew member taking a 3-hour watch followed by a 6-hour break. The duties vary from day to day: cooking, cleaning, and maintaining the boat. One task I hadn't expected was 'gardening.' Every few days one of the crew found themself pulling vegetables and fruits from the boat's stock—harvesting the last of what was still fresh and edible and removing expired items, a small but important task!

I share my watch with Jakob, the experienced skipper of Amundsen. He has been sailing for decades, and his knowledge of the sea is invaluable. He shows me not just the technical aspects of sailing and navigating but also an insight of what it looks like to be a professional skipper and crew on a state-of-the-art Antarctic expedition vessel such as Amundsen. It seems that every day, I learn something new, not only from Jakob but from everybody onboard.

The days aboard Amundsen seem to blend together, but with each passing watch, I find myself feeling more comfortable and at home on board. In between jobs and shifts, there’s time to unwind, and for me, that often means a mix of remote work and keeping an eye out for wildlife—sometimes even both at the same time. Not a bad office view!

So far, we've been lucky enough to spot a variety of wildlife: pods of up to 200 Common dolphins riding the bow, mola mola drifting by, mahi mahi and bonito, flying fish leaping through the air, and even a sea turtle cruising through the water. And that’s not even taking into account the wide variety of birds passing by.

And the best part? This is just the beginning…

Marnik Van Cauter

Marine biologist