It’s a strange feeling. After years of continuous travel, life at sea, and shared adventures, I am now preparing to leave behind the boat, my husband Jeroen, and our son Rajesh for four months. On October 28th, I will be flying back to the Netherlands and returning to Tahiti on February 25th. In my 30-year marriage, we have never been apart for such a long stretch of time. It’s both scary and exciting, yet unsettling. While they will continue their journey through the Tuamotus and Gambier Islands to avoid the Pacific cyclone season, I will be flying back to the Netherlands to work and reunite with family and friends.
Though I look forward to seeing everyone again, the thought of separation lingers. Sailing has been our way of life, and now, for the first time, I will be watching from a distance. Jeroen and Rajesh will face the unpredictable ocean, navigating unknown seas and weather patterns without me. It’s strange to think of them experiencing the highs and lows of life at sea without me to share those moments: the peaceful sunsets, sudden storms, and the triumphs of tricky passages. In some ways, I feel like I’m leaving part of my heart behind with them.
On the other hand, I am looking forward to returning to my professional roots as a dental hygienist. The familiar rhythm of the clinic, the satisfaction of helping clients, and the sense of purpose I’ve always found in my work have been calling to me for a while. I really miss my job and the connection I have with my clients. It’s more than just a profession to me; it’s about making a difference in people’s lives. Yet, it will not be the same, of course. I won’t be returning to my old practice, where I knew each client personally and where there was a deep mutual trust and understanding built over the years.
Now, I will be stepping into a new practice, a place where the faces and routines are unfamiliar. I can’t help but wonder: Will I be able to create those same connections with new clients? Will they be as satisfied with my work as my old clients were? There’s always a bit of uncertainty when you enter a new environment, but I hope to bring the same passion and care to this new chapter.
As I prepare to leave, I can’t help but reflect on my initial dreams of offering my services in remote places during our travels. I had imagined helping those in need and providing care in far-flung locations. However, the reality turned out differently. Local healthcare systems have been well-established, and my dream of providing care in these areas wasn’t as needed as I thought it would be.
The decision to go back was not easy. As a team of three, we’ve developed a system that works well for us. Each of us has our own tasks on board, and with sailing passages, the shifts with three people have proven to be effective. It’s not just me who will be facing a significant adjustment; it will also be a lot for Jeroen and Rajesh to handle without my presence. I just hope there will be no cyclones they have to sail away from. However, I know they will manage just fine. They are more than capable of taking on the additional tasks.
To make this transition smoother for them, I’ve prepared a recipe book of the dishes I usually cook and included instructions on how to bake bread. This way, they will have a reference to create some of their favourite meals and maintain a sense of home while I’m away. Some of our beloved recipes include dahl, biryani, and various Indian curries, along with our favourite focaccia bread. I still laugh at the time I accidentally made our biryani so spicy that even the local fish swam away from it!
In addition, I will ensure all the laundry is done just before I leave, after which it will be up to them how often they choose to tackle that task. They have often joked that I wash too often, so do you think they will suddenly become laundry enthusiasts? I’m not betting on it; they might just embrace the “aroma of adventure” instead!
Adjusting to life in the Netherlands feels profound after years in tropical climates. The cold weather will certainly be a shock, but so will the transition from the freedom of the sea to the structure of a working life. While the prospect of a daily routine is exciting, I know it will also be a challenge. Sailing has taught me how valuable adaptability is, and now I face the task of adjusting to a more predictable rhythm on land.
One of the most immediate changes will be my wardrobe. After two and a half years in tropical climates, I’m used to wearing shorts, tank tops, and flip-flops, enjoying the freedom of being barefoot. The idea of swapping my light, airy clothes for long pants and closed shoes feels foreign. I can already picture the chill of the Dutch winter creeping in as I dig out my warm sweaters and boots, which have been gathering dust for far too long. I might even need to remind myself how to layer my outfits to combat the cold!
Another adjustment will be grocery shopping. After months of relying on local markets and small shops in the islands, I can’t wait to step into a Dutch supermarket and be greeted by an overwhelming variety of products. The sheer number of options will be both thrilling and intimidating. I find myself dreaming of fresh, crisp vegetables, juicy fruits, and all the cheeses I’ve missed. The thought of choosing between five different types of apples or browsing aisles of spices that I couldn’t find in remote locations fills me with excitement.
However, I also anticipate feeling a bit lost. After years of living simply and often improvising with what I have, I might have to remind myself to embrace this abundance rather than feel overwhelmed by it. I look forward to rediscovering old favourites like stamppot, krentenbollen, Dutch cheeses and bread and enjoying the seasonal treats that Dutch supermarkets have to offer.
After four months, I will look forward to reuniting with Jeroen and Rajesh. By then, they will have sailed through new islands, survived the cyclone season, and prepared the boat for the next leg of our journey. I will fly to wherever they are at that moment, and I hope that will be somewhere in the Gambier or Marquesas Islands. Together, we will explore this region for a few more months, creating cherished memories as a family. After that, we plan to set sail toward Fiji. While we haven’t mapped out our journey yet, the thrill of the unknown and the spontaneity of sailing continue to inspire us, promising new adventures just waiting to be discovered.
During my stay in the Netherlands, I will try to write some blogs, but they will not be as regular as they have been so far. Most of all, I hope to see and meet many of you. See you soon!

MESSAGES ON BOARD
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