Sometimes the ocean brings you back together

Some friendships are formed in the most special places. For us, that adventure began in 2014 , during our very first volunteer trip to India.

Together with Australian dentist Marcel, we traveled to small villages where we provided free dental care to the local community. Tess, Marcel’s enthusiastic dental assistant at the time, came along to assist. Jeroen was our indispensable technician and helped wherever needed. It became a trip we would never forget.

Tess was only eighteen years old at the time: a bundle of energy, always cheerful, and with an infectious laugh. Wherever she appeared, the children followed naturally. In no time at all, a whole group was running after her again. It was wonderful to see how much fun she had with everyone and how much warmth she radiated. We laughed so much during those weeks and made wonderful memories.

Although we all resumed our own lives after that, contact never disappeared. Tess visited us twice in the Netherlands, and I also went to visit her in Australia once. Moreover, in the years that followed, she lived in England for five years and in Canada for four years before finally returning to her home country of Australia.

Before starting a new course of study, she decided to take in one last beautiful adventure: a week aboard My Motu .

For Tess, absolutely everything was new. She had never lived on a sailboat and had never even sailed. Of course, we wanted to show her why we had fallen so in love with this life, but the weather wasn’t exactly cooperating. For days, Jeroen and I sat studying the weather charts. Where could we safely go? And above all: where would Tess experience how beautiful life at sea can be, without being immediately deterred by a rough crossing?

We chose Namena Island , a protected nature reserve known for its beautiful snorkeling and diving spots. Even before Tess arrived, we had arranged the necessary permits so that we could leave immediately as soon as the weather allowed.

After her taxi ride from Labasa to Savusavu, we welcomed her aboard what would be her home for the next week. First, of course, an extensive tour of the boat, then finding a spot for the suitcases, and finally doing some grocery shopping together to see if anything was missing. Except for a bag of oatmeal, it turned out everything was already on board.

We ended the first evening at an Indian restaurant in Savusavu. A little bit of nostalgia, because unknowingly our thoughts briefly wandered back to that first volunteer trip where our friendship began. Back on board, it didn’t take long before Tess, tired from the journey, fell asleep like a log.

The next morning, we decided to move a short distance closer to the Cousteau Resort. Out on the open sea, there was still too much wind and the waves were simply too high to make it a pleasant first sailing experience. In front of the resort, however, we were wonderfully sheltered. If the forecasts were correct, the wind would finally die down the following day.

And indeed, the moment had arrived the next morning.

We lifted the anchor and set course for Namena Island, about 25 nautical miles away. A five hour passage. Although the wind had decreased, there were still waves of about two meters coming from the front at an angle. Not dangerous, but exactly the kind of movement where a first introduction to sailing can be quite intense.

It didn’t take long, therefore, before Tess was introduced to another, less romantic part of life at sea: seasickness.

And not just a little bit, either.

The blue bucket became her very best friend throughout the entire crossing.

Fortunately, everything changed as soon as we sailed through the narrow pass and reached the calm waters of Namena. Not long after, the anchor was dropped and color slowly returned to her face. She had survived the first sailing trip… and the best part of the week was yet to begin.

That evening, we enjoyed a delicious meal on board. During dinner, Tess laughingly mentioned that she had been incredibly curious about life on a sailboat. She had imagined all sorts of things, but to be honest, she hadn’t expected the cooking to be so tasty, healthy, and elaborate. That was a pleasant surprise.

After dinner, it didn’t take long before fatigue set in. We all went to bed reasonably early. Something that people who never spend long periods outdoors often underestimate is how much energy the sun, the sea air, and all the new impressions take. At the end of such a day, you feel wonderfully satisfied, but also really tired. Moreover, we wanted to be fresh and rested the next morning, because we could finally go and discover what Namena Island is so famous for.

For Tess, however, that was not only something to look forward to, but also a little bit exciting.

Anyone growing up in Australia learns at a young age that the ocean is beautiful, but also deserves respect. The waters surrounding Australia harbor an impressive array of animals that you would rather not get too close to. From saltwater crocodiles and venomous sea snakes to box jellyfish, blue-ringed octopuses, and, of course, the large shark species that regularly make the news. Australians grow up with the awareness that you must always be alert when entering the sea.

So it is not surprising that Tess needed a moment to get used to our enthusiasm. “Oh sure,” we said very relaxed, “there is a good chance we will encounter sharks tomorrow.”

You saw her swallow for a moment.

Fortunately, we were able to reassure her immediately. The sharks you usually see near Namena are blacktip and whitetip reef sharks. Elegant, curious animals that have been swimming among snorkelers and divers their entire lives and completely ignore people. In fact, most disappear before you have even had a good look at them.

For us, they have become a fixed part of a beautiful snorkeling trip. It remains special every time to see them glide so gracefully through the clear water. We secretly hoped that Tess would experience it the same way at the end of the next day.

After a leisurely breakfast, we got ready for our first snorkeling trip. We didn’t even have to go far. Right behind the boat, close to the shore, the underwater world began. And what a world it was.

Almost immediately, we were surrounded by large schools of colorful tropical fish. A curious blacktip reef shark glided silently along the edge of the reef, gigantic giant clams shimmered in all shades of blue, green, and purple, and a few impressive giant trevallies moved calmly through the clear water. We could not have wished for a better first introduction to Namena.

That afternoon, too, we went into the water again. It was beautiful to see how Tess became more and more relaxed. The tension she still felt on the first day slowly gave way to curiosity and wonder.

As I climbed back into the dinghy after our snorkel, Tess stepped in right behind me. Just as she was climbing aboard, I caught a glimpse of something leaping out of the water in the distance.

“That can’t be right…”

A few seconds later, it happened again.

A humpback whale!

“Jeroen! Whales! Quick, quick!”

Before I had even finished speaking, Jeroen jumped aboard the dinghy, and we sailed as fast as was responsibly possible towards the spot where we had seen the whales.

What we experienced next felt almost unreal.

Less than fifty meters away, a young humpback whale leaped spectacularly out of the water time and again. A calf, full of energy, curiosity, and zest for life, that seemed to be enjoying every moment, while his mother stayed calmly nearby and kept a close watch on everything. We could only laugh, look at each other in disbelief, and wonder if this was really happening. What an incredible gift. It was precisely the timing that made the moment even more special. It was only June 23rd, still very early in the season. In Fiji, the first humpback whales usually begin to appear slowly from around July 1st, with the best chances of seeing them later in August and September. So to witness a mother and calf already, leaping and surfacing right beside us, felt incredibly special. 

After a while, we decided to move the dinghy a little further and turn off the engine again. As soon as silence returned, we let ourselves drift gently over the calm sea. We do this deliberately. The sound of an outboard motor carries surprisingly far underwater and can be disturbing to humpback whales. They communicate with each other over long distances via their impressive songs and are also very sensitive to sound and vibrations. By turning off the engine, we hope to disturb their natural behavior as little as possible. Moreover, the entire experience changes as soon as silence returns. You hear only the soft lapping of the water against the dinghy, the sound of our own breathing, and you feel how the tension slowly gives way to pure wonder. It is as if, for a brief moment, you become part of their world, instead of merely a spectator.

And then everything suddenly went quiet. 
Completely quiet. There wasn’t another boat in sight. Just the three of us, bobbing in a small rubber dinghy on a mirror-smooth ocean.

The whales had already disappeared underwater. 
We waited. And waited. Not a ripple. No movement. No idea where they were.

Until suddenly…

FSSSHHHH!

An explosive exhalation broke the silence. We jumped in fright and immediately burst out laughing at our own startled reaction.

Less than two meters from the dinghy, mother and calf surfaced simultaneously to breathe. Without us even realizing it, they had quietly swum beneath the dinghy.

The warm mist of their breath hung over the water for a brief moment. Their enormous backs rose slowly beside us. For a moment, time seemed to stand still before they disappeared almost silently back into the deep blue water.

Smiling, we kept looking at them.

We stayed close to each other for a while longer. The young animal made two more beautiful leaps before mother and calf slowly disappeared into the vast blue ocean.

We thought it was such a shame that we didn’t have a GoPro or phone with us.

But actually…

…that wasn’t important at all.

Some moments are too special to experience through a screen. You carry them with you forever. These are precisely the moments that make life on a sailboat so incredibly special. So close to nature, in places where you are sometimes completely alone, and where the ocean unexpectedly rewards you with memories you will never forget.

The next morning the sea was mirror-smooth. Not a breath of wind. Perfect for taking the dinghy to the outer reef.

Even before we entered the water, we saw how incredibly clear the ocean was. The reef lay almost literally beneath us. As soon as we looked down, a colorful world full of life unfolded. Vast fields of hard and soft coral alternated, and schools of tropical fish in all the colors of the rainbow swam everywhere.

It felt like we were floating above a gigantic, living aquarium.

At a depth of about twenty meters, a whitetip reef shark cruised slowly through the reef. With calm, graceful movements and gentle sweeps of its tail, it seemed completely at ease, paying no attention at all to us snorkeling above.

Watching Tess was just as beautiful.

The caution of the first few days had completely vanished. She felt increasingly free in the water and swam gracefully through the coral and fish, almost like a mermaid. Her confidence grew with every snorkeling trip, and she visibly enjoyed every minute.

Back on board, the conversations continued for hours. Not only about everything we had seen underwater that day, but also because we hadn’t seen each other for six years. There was more than enough to catch up on.

We soon found a wonderful rhythm. Snorkeling in the morning at yet another spot on the reef, relaxing on board or paddleboarding in the afternoon, taking the occasional walk around the small island, and enjoying a leisurely lunch or dinner with a good glass of wine in between. We invariably ended the evenings with a spectacular sunset, as the sea slowly transformed into a mirror of gold, orange, and pink.

After consulting with Tess, we decided to abandon our plans and stay a little longer at Namena Island. Because Tess gets seasick easily, we wanted her to experience the most beautiful side of sailing life. Not just the crossings, but especially the life that begins afterward. Waking up in a sheltered bay, snorkeling over colorful coral reefs, paddleboarding across mirror-smooth water, and enjoying long, relaxed days where nothing is expected and everything is possible. Namena was one of those places where you effortlessly stay a few extra days, simply because it feels as if you have already arrived at your destination.

As the days flew by, we asked Tess how she had actually experienced this special week. Her answer touched us perhaps even more than we had expected.

When we asked her which moment she would carry with her forever, she didn’t have to think about it for long. Of course, she mentioned snorkeling among the colorful parrotfish, turtles, reef sharks, and impressive whales we encountered so unexpectedly. But her first answer was the most beautiful of all. She told us that being together with us, her two favorite people in the world, was her most cherished memory of the entire week. That she had found a peace on board that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Simply enjoying life at sea together, the conversations, the laughter, and the small moments of everyday life had meant more to her than she could have imagined beforehand. We really couldn’t have wished for a more beautiful compliment.

She also said that she had no idea beforehand how much actually goes into sailing. From the outside, it sometimes seems like a carefree existence where you only have to hoist the sails, but this week showed her how much planning, knowledge, and physical effort lies behind every crossing. It was precisely because of this that she gained an enormous appreciation for sailing and for the special community of people who have chosen this life.

Tess was most surprised by life aboard My Motu itself. She had imagined a simple boat, but discovered a comfortable home with all amenities, nice spots to read a book, and above all, an overwhelming sense of peace. Life at sea turned out to be much more peaceful than she could ever have imagined.

But her most beautiful answer was that this week had given her something she hadn’t expected. She said that the days on My Motu had brought her mental peace and clarity. It was as if the stress and busyness of the past year had slowly slipped away from her, creating space for new energy and a fresh start. That is perhaps exactly what makes life at sea so special. The ocean not only invites you to slow down but also gives you the time to truly feel again, to enjoy, and simply to be present in the moment.

On Saturday, June 27, we hoisted the sails together for the last time and set course back to Savusavu. Fortunately, the return journey is much more pleasant. There is less wind, the waves are calmer, and we have them coming from diagonally behind us, making the sea feel much friendlier. For Tess, that makes a world of difference. Four hours later, we pick up our mooring again in Savusavu.

That evening is extra special. Not only are we wrapping up an unforgettable week with Tess, but it is also the day Jeroen and I have been married for 31 years. We celebrate it the way we like best: with a delicious meal on board My Motu, a good glass of wine, and a beautiful sunset slowly disappearing behind the hills of Savusavu.

The next morning, we take Tess to the little airport where her adventure on board began a week earlier. Saying goodbye remains perhaps the hardest part of this sailing life. You meet special people in the most unexpected places in the world, experience intense adventures together, and in a short time, memories are created that last a lifetime. Then everyone goes their separate ways. again.

We already know that we will miss Tess enormously. It was a privilege to let her experience life on board My Motu for a week and to share so many beautiful moments together. Perhaps that is the most beautiful gift travel can give: not only discovering new countries, but meeting people who, no matter how far apart they live, will always feel like family. Sometimes the ocean takes you to the most beautiful islands. Sometimes it simply brings you back together.

The door of My Motu will always be open for her.