Three Men, One Boat, and 2,400 miles of Controlled Chaos

By day six, the three of us were well into the groove of sailing. Sleep schedules were established, routines had developed, and life at sea was becoming our new normal. Apparently, humans can adapt to just about anything, including living inside a washing machine for two weeks.

Picture three guys living on a 52-foot sailboat in the middle of the Indian Ocean, where the floor never stops moving, walking is a full-body workout, and making a cup of coffee requires balance, coordination, and occasionally the reflexes of a professional goalkeeper.

Every part of daily life takes a little more effort out here, but that’s also part of the adventure.

Sleeping means wedging yourself securely into your bunk while the boat rises, falls, and occasionally attempts to eject you. Cooking involves bracing one foot against the galley, holding on with one hand, and keeping the other available to catch whatever decides to go airborne. Sometimes that’s dinner. Sometimes it’s the cook.

Showers are quick and athletic. Using the toilet is less a bathroom break and more an extreme sport: one hand for balance, one hand for dignity, and absolutely no room for a surprise wave.

Personal space is measured in inches, and even getting dressed can become a complicated operation when the boat is rolling hard. Pants, in particular, seem determined to turn the process into a wrestling match.

There’s also the constant soundtrack of life at sea: wind whistling through the rigging, waves slapping against the hull, and the occasional creak and groan as Okisollo works her way through the ocean. Every now and then, a particularly large wave crashes over the deck, just to remind us who’s really in charge.

We’ve learned to move around each other, share our small spaces, and anticipate the boat’s motion before reaching for a mug, opening a locker, or stepping across the cabin. Occasionally, we even manage all three without colliding with a wall.

What once seemed like chaos has become normal. We eat, sleep, cook, laugh, and go about our days while our floating home pitches and rolls beneath us. It’s remarkable how quickly we’ve adapted.

And since simply crossing an ocean apparently wasn’t enough to keep us entertained, we decided to add a few extracurricular activities.

Sailing School, Indian Ocean Edition

I spent a couple of afternoons teaching celestial navigation, primarily how to determine our latitude using a sextant and a noon sight.

On his first attempt, Andrea took a sight from the pitching deck, worked through the calculations, and determined our position to within three miles of the GPS.

Pretty impressive considering the sun, the horizon, the boat, and Andrea were all moving in different directions at the same time.

It turns out centuries-old navigation techniques still work. Who needs satellites when you have a 23-year-old Italian with a sextant?

Next came learning how to make a double eye splice in a rope. Naturally, Andrea nailed it on his first attempt.

Apparently, I’m either an exceptional instructor or he’s an annoyingly quick learner.

I’m leaning toward the latter.

The Indian Ocean Cooking Championship

Cooking on a passage is a sport all by itself.

Imagine preparing a gourmet meal in a kitchen that randomly tilts 30 degrees, changes direction without warning, and occasionally launches ingredients across the room.

Nothing stays where you put it. Cutting boards migrate, utensils disappear, and a moment of inattention can turn a carefully prepared dinner into an elaborate coating for the galley walls.

Despite these challenges, we’ve eaten exceptionally well.

In fact, an unofficial cooking competition has developed among the three of us, with everyone constantly trying to outdo the previous meal.

Our menu has included homemade pizza with dough made from scratch, incredible pasta dishes, shepherd’s pie, braised lamb shank over garlic mashed potatoes, freshly baked sourdough bread, sushi, mahi mahi ceviche, mushroom risotto, hearty chicken soup, and plenty of other creations.

Not exactly the canned beans and crackers one might expect from three guys crossing an ocean.

Our fishing success has certainly helped. The Indian Ocean has been far more generous than the Pacific. So far, we’ve landed three mahi mahi, three tuna, and one very large wahoo, also known as ono.

The wahoo in particular was a spectacular catch and provided enough fish to feed a small village. Unfortunately, Mauritius doesn’t allow us to bring in freshly caught fish, so with only a couple hundred miles remaining, we suddenly found ourselves in a race against time.

The challenge: how many creative ways can three guys prepare wahoo before reaching land?

A problem we’re quite happy to have.

The Okisollo Ocean Games

To stay active and maintain our questionable level of sanity, we invented three competitive sporting events.

Event One: Salon Surfing

The rules are simple. Stand in the middle of the salon with your arms crossed and your feet planted. Whoever lasts the longest without moving a foot wins.

Sounds easy enough until you remember that your living room is being violently rearranged by the Indian Ocean.

With the boat pitching, rolling, and occasionally attempting to launch us into orbit, this became a surprisingly serious competition.

Thirty minutes of salon surfing is a full-body workout. No gym membership required.

Event Two: Salon Rodeo

For this event, we placed two cushions on the salon floor. Competitors had to walk a figure-eight pattern around them without grabbing anything for support or being thrown into the furniture.

Imagine trying to perform a graceful dance routine while standing on the back of an unpredictable mechanical bull.

Grace was in short supply. Entertainment was not.

Event Three: Boat Dash

The objective: carry a cup of water from the aft cabin to the forward cabin without holding onto anything for support.

Points are awarded for speed, style, and the amount of water remaining in the cup at the finish line.

Bonus points for arriving upright.

Penalties for rinsing down the interior with water.

As the days passed, our balance and coordination improved dramatically. Partly from practice, but mostly because our bodies have learned to compensate automatically for the boat’s constant motion.

It’s amazing how quickly the human body adapts to its environment.

I’m slightly concerned that when we finally reach land, we’ll all be staggering down the dock like we’ve had a few too many drinks.

Land Ho! Almost…

With less than 100 miles remaining to Mauritius, the finish line is finally in sight.

After two weeks and roughly 2,400 miles at sea, land is beginning to feel less like a mythical place and more like somewhere we might actually visit.

It’s been an incredible passage. We’ve experienced everything from beautiful, relaxed sailing to 40-knot winds and massive 20 foot seas. We’ve caught fish, cooked extraordinary meals, learned new skills, invented ridiculous sports, watched movies, shared stories, and laughed our way across a good portion of the Indian Ocean.

Three guys, one boat, and two weeks of living in a world where absolutely nothing stays still.

There’s something special about being so far from land, completely self-sufficient, and sharing the experience with good crew. The challenges become part of the adventure, the little things become memorable, and even the most ordinary activities can turn into a story.

I’ll miss the simplicity of life out here. No traffic, no appointments, no errands. Just the wind, the waves, the boat, and whatever the day brings.

But I must admit, I’m looking forward to a few things about civilization.

A cold drink. A refrigerator that works. A shower that doesn’t require athletic ability.

And most of all, walking across a room without it turning into a competitive sporting event.

Onward… Mauritius, here we come!