The Voyage
There is no fixed itinerary. That's the point.
What follows is the broad shape of the journey — the seasons, the oceans, the general direction. The details will be decided by weather, curiosity, and whatever port feels right at the time.
Learning the Boat
Mediterranean — June to November 2026
Marco Polo departs Vigo in May 2026, sailing south past Cape Finisterre, down the Portuguese coast, through the Strait of Gibraltar, and into the Mediterranean. The first solo passage is already a deadline — a friend's wedding in Rome in June. Marbella to Civitavecchia, solo, with a dog, and a suit in a dry bag.
The Mediterranean months are about learning. Learning the boat, the systems, the rhythm of life offshore. The South of France, the Italian coast, the islands. Six months of sailing that feels like living.
By November, Marco Polo is hauled out. Two months of winter work — rigging, systems, preparation. Everything that needs to be right before crossing an ocean.
The Atlantic
Canary Islands to the Caribbean — January 2027
In January, the boat is back in the water and heading south. The Canary Islands — where sailors have been stopping to provision and wait for the trade winds since the age of discovery.
Then the crossing. 2,700 nautical miles of open ocean. Trade winds. Flying fish. Night watches. The particular silence of being three weeks from the nearest land.
Landfall in the Caribbean or the Bahamas — not yet decided. That's the beauty of it.
The World
2027 and beyond
After the Caribbean, the route opens up completely. Panama and the Pacific. French Polynesia. Perhaps south through South America first. Perhaps not.
The world is the plan. The only firm commitment is to keep going.
Marco Polo
She was built in 1981, when boats were still made by hand, for people who intended to use them. A Hans Christian 38T cutter — heavy displacement, full keel, solid fibreglass from stem to stern. The kind of boat that serious sailors whisper about.
The Hans Christian 38T has a reputation that precedes her. Designed by Robert Perry during an era when offshore bluewater cruising was a way of life rather than a lifestyle choice, she belongs to a lineage of boats that have crossed every ocean on earth and come back asking for more. She is slow by modern standards. She does not care.
At 38 feet on deck, with a bowsprit that pushes her silhouette to 41 feet overall, she carries herself differently from other boats. The deep red antifouling below the waterline. The teak trim that catches the last of the evening light. The cutter rig — mainsail, genoa, and staysail — built for whatever the ocean decides to throw.
Below deck, everything is solid teak. Dark, warm, purposeful. The kind of interior that makes a marina feel like home and an anchorage feel like arriving. Oval brass portholes either side of the saloon. A table wide enough for charts and long conversations at sea.
She is not a new boat. She was never meant to be.
She is Marco Polo — named for the man who left everything familiar behind and kept going anyway. A 1981 Hans Christian 38T cutter, a dog named Polo on the bow, and a journey that's only just beginning. 🌊
We're not racing. We're not rushing. We're just going.
Follow the journey →