Real Life Sailing around the world saved my marriage
Struggling with the monotony of modern life, Nichola Craven and her family took to the seas
We’re deep in the Pacific Ocean, 500 miles from land, when the engine of our 53ft sailboat, Aretha, cuts out. My husband, Caspar, and I are unable to determine the cause of our power failure, and with no navigation, no communications, no lights, we’re dead in the water. Soon, it’s pitch black, and the wind is howling around us as our boat is tossed around in 30ft waves.
When we’d planned to take our three children on a sailing adventure around the world, this wasn’t quite what we’d imagined. Yet, rather than panic, although it’s tempting, an exhausted Caspar and I launch into practical mode, using the sails to push us along and taking turns to hand steer the boat to safety. It takes five days – but by the end, our marriage is stronger than ever.
It was 2009 when I had the wild idea at Caspar’s sister’s birthday party. People were chatting about a family in the news who’d taken their kids sailing round the world, saying it was crazy, yet I thought it sounded great. I’d enjoyed Interrailing across Europe and backpacking after university.
‘Shall we do it? Sail around the world with the kids?’ I asked Caspar during the drive home. At that point, we had two children, Bluebell, then four, and Columbus, two. I’d never sailed but Caspar was a seasoned sailor, having grown up around boats. He’d even competed in a round-the-world yacht race in 2000, and took no convincing.
We’d been married five years and were both struggling under the strain of modern-life pressures. Caspar co-owned a consultancy business, was fed up with the commute to London and working doggedly, while I was exhausted from juggling childcare and being a part-time lawyer. The kids and I barely saw Caspar during his 80-hour weeks, and by the weekends he was exhausted and humourless. It wasn’t a happy existence, and we wanted more from life, so began thrashing out a plan.
No looking back
We set a departure date of August 2014, so we had five years to save. Working towards a mutual dream made the school runs, daily grind and Caspar’s long hours less souldestroying. We planned our route on a world map pinned to the kitchen wall, which helped fire the kids’ imaginations. I learned to sail, and Caspar and I both did extensive medical, weather and repairs training. We went on flotilla sailing holidays in the Med to build the kids’ confidence on the water, then, in spring 2014 we’d managed to save enough for our £400,000 yacht.
Friends and family were apprehensive yet excited for us, and it eased my parents’ minds that Caspar and I had done safety training and planned to home-school Bluebell, then nine, and Columbus, seven, on
board. Our third child, Willow, had been born by then, but we planned her arrival so that by the time we left, she’d be two.
Finally, in August 2014, I handed my notice in, while Caspar left the company in the hands of his business partner. Then, after renting out our Surrey home and selling our car, we set sail from Southampton. It felt like jumping off a cliff – we didn’t know what to expect, yet we’d prepared for anything, and once we were out in the ocean, it was breathtaking being surrounded by so much space.
The kids were just excited to set off on such a big adventure with their mum and dad, and adapted quickly to life at sea. Our first stop was the Canary Islands, before heading across the Atlantic to the Caribbean. Then, we went through the Panama Canal to the Pacific, before on to Australia via the Galapagos Islands, Central Polynesia, Fiji and Vanuatu. From Australia, our journey continued to Indonesia and across the Indian Ocean to Mauritius, before sailing round the southern coast of Africa, on to Brazil and finally back up to the Caribbean. Columbus and I both suffered seasickness, but anti-sickness tablets helped, and every day was like a documentary. We snorkelled with whale sharks and manta rays, saw humpback whales, swam with whitetip reef sharks and hammerheads. Dolphins would dance along with the boat. It was truly magical. Caspar and I would take turns to be ‘on watch’ for weather, boats, and checking the sails, while Bluebell and Columbus would stay up admiring the stars. We’d spend three hours a day doing schoolwork, creating projects depending on where we were in the world. We learnt about Christopher Columbus as we sailed the Med, and Columbus devoured books about fishing, even catching us food. It helped bring learning to life.
Tests of strength
We had our hairy moments. In spring 2015, Bluebell fought off a bout of dengue fever. Shortly after, we had the power failure in the Pacific, which proved a true test of our team work – and relationship. But after an anxious and exhausting five days, we anchored down in Tonga, where the engine, which had been blocked by dirty diesel, was fully repaired.
Then, as we sailed across the Indian Ocean in November 2015, Willow, then three, slipped and cut her head on a cupboard in the cabin. It was gushing blood, and we were six days from the nearest hospital, so as I kept her calm, Caspar radioed a nearby ship and got incredible – and lucky – medical advice from a doctor on board who said to sew up the gash with Willow’s own hair.
We also encountered storms, including
‘IT WAS TRULY MAGICAL’
40ft waves off the coast of South Africa – but, at 23 tonnes, the boat was solid, so we always felt safe and secure. Even the challenging moments brought us closer. At home, life had been hectic with work, errands, chores and school. But on the boat, with our three co-captains, we had endless quality time.
Returning to reality in June 2016 –after almost two years – was tough, and normal life suddenly felt restrictive. The children adapted better, returning to school and slotting back in to friendship groups.
For Caspar and I, it took a good year, because, though we were coming back to our old lives, we weren’t the same people. We’d re-connected in a way I hadn’t expected, rediscovered each other as husband and wife rather than frazzled mum and dad, worked together through the most frightening crises, deepening our trust in one another. We’d been on this massive adventure and didn’t want to go back to our old lives, so Caspar wrote a book about our trip and now does public speaking about leadership and team building.
I’ve recently started working for a small business in the renewable-energy sector. Bluebell, now 14, Columbus, 13, and Willow, eight, are happy in school; going away hasn’t disadvantaged them, but given them a richness of experience and broadened their minds.
Our adventure not only saved our marriage but it bonded us closer as a family. The kids built resilience and learnt to be adventurous and unafraid. As for me, the experience taught me anything is achievable. Our family and relationships survived the most anxious times, and soared through the most magical, memory-making experiences, and that closeness will stay with us forever.
✱ Where The Magic Happens by Caspar Craven (£18.99, Bloomsbury) is out now