The Islander’s CEO (Creative Enthusiastic Owner) Jens Oomes and his family are delivering an 18,90m catamaran from Mallorca to Fiji for a client. Together with his wife An, they have worked as full time crew for 5 years on charter and private yachts. Since starting a family Jens has continued to do freelance delivery jobs while running his Pocket Superyacht Management business Invisible Crew. 

It is through that business that this opportunity rose to complete a semi-circumnavigation of the globe, with his family. In the selection of 2 additional crew, the dynamic with their children was the deciding factor. Jens was confident that they could teach An’s brother, Jan and his partner Sara the ropes along the way. On 11 January 2025, An, Jens, Jan, Sara and daughter Charlie Beau (8) and son Oceaan Jack (11) left on the delivery from Mallorca to Fiji! 

12/01/25 0800CET South of Formentera

It feels great to have finally left. It’s been only 8 weeks since this plan was hatched. The last week while we were living on board, postponing our departure due to big south westerly winds, have actually been a blessing. It has given us time to settle in. But we were anxious to leave. A small crowd of friends waved us goodbye from the breakwall of Club Nautic Arenal. 

We enjoyed a wonderful first afternoon. However the sea state was somewhat confused due to the high winds from the last few days. Although the night started off calmly, we were prepared for bigger winds with 2 reefs in the main sail. But when the big winds turned out to be building to close to 40knots, we quickly dropped the main, and continued on a heavily reefed genoa. The kids slept through it, mostly in the arms of their aunt and mom. Everybody stood their nightwatches bravely despite some seasickness. 

Around 6am the wind calmed down and since then we are cruising under the sun. 

Currently passing south of Formentera. The kids were excited to have spotted a turtle!

13/01/25 1300CET South of Cartagena

The human body and mind is amazing. It can adapt to any situation, if you give it some time. Jan seems to be completely immune to the devil called seasickness. While An and I have to manage our queasiness the three other green crew, well, they were green indeed for the first 12 to 20 hours. But coinciding with a more uniform seastate caused by an Easterly breeze that was lighter than predicted, all spirits were rising by the time the sun started its descent. 

At night we saw how the planets are almost neatly lined up. I take it as a good omen when the universe has rigged up the celestial bodies like airfield runway lights to guide us halfway around the world. 

At sea I find superstition to be a beautiful thing.

On land you can control almost everything. You can run to the shop when you need something. Run to a doctor when you’re hurt. You can hide from weather in a brick house. At sea, even the best prepared sailors can use all the allies they can get. 

15/01/25 06:30CET East of Gibraltar

Lies and confessions 

On my previous nightwatch at 0000hrs on Tuesday 14/01 I suspected we had a liar on board! Either our brand new engines have a widely differing consumption rate or one of our 2 tanks is not as full as the gauge is telling us. Before nightfall An and I debated on whether we should pull into Almeria to top up with fuel, losing time in the process. After studying the weather report we decided to head deeper into sea where the breeze should pick up. 

They did, and we could turn off the engines, saving fuel. When Jan arrived on deck at 3am we were sailing nicely under the Code 0. For the non sailors: This is a giant sail made of light cloth that, in our case, can be rolled up with the push of a button. But, still, it’s big and fragile…

The next 3 hours we made great progress. Usually I am napping somewhere near to Jan during his 3 hours of watch but under the Code 0 I had to stay up. 

At 0600hrs Sara and An got up to take over our watch. I was never going to leave them alone with the Code 0 and at that moment another squall arrived. So we started to furl the sail away. It’s not easy to keep the next part of the story short, but I’ll try. 

We managed to furl the sail but it wasn’t furled tight which is concerning because it can catch wind and start unfurling by itself. We pulled the sheet a bit to tighten the wrapped sail and when I pushed to furl again, the breaker tripped. The sail was now unfurled at the top but not at the bottom. The wind was high. Every time I worked with a sail like this I dreaded that this would happen. We had to drop the half rolled sausage on the foredeck where I was stood. While standing on the foredeck trying to pull the flogging giant tentacle inboard, we had to drop it fast and I had to shout simple instructions to my novice crew. I decide to call for a fast free drop. As a result, part of the sail ended up in the water and under the boat. Horror. I looked at it and saw a dolphin swim by. Surreal! 

Fast forward: we managed to stuff the whole thing in the sail locker by 0730. 

Later in the morning the girls and Oceaan enjoyed another playful dolphin display. We sailed well the rest of the day. At sunset the wind dropped again.

Update 20/01/25 0900GMT Las Palmas

What a sleighride this was! 

The Med has tested us a bit with varying weather conditions and some technical issues. But from the moment we were tied to the Gibraltar fuel dock, things have been going smooth. Having topped up the tanks we know one fuel gauge is off but we can calculate the consumption, of course.

We zig-zagged out of the Strait, fell off the shoulder of Morocco, bounced off the curve near Casablanca and were further blown down towards the Canaries. As if to avoid a hard landing, the wind died in the last 16hours so we could gently float into port. 

In those last hours we spotted fin whales and saw the summit of the Teide appear from the clouds in the distance. The temperature increased, as well as the excitement for our next landfall.  

An and I are so proud of our trainee crew who all pulled their weight and continue to learn every day. I am amazed by how the kids just undergo the offshore sailing without much talk about arriving somewhere. I hope it stays like that for the next 4,5 months. 

Update 27/01/25 1130GMT 25⁰54.2’N 18⁰24.8’W

The darkest night.

We left Las Palmas two days ago under dreamy conditions. The wind is wonderfully consistent. If we could choose, we’d ask for these 16kt – 20kt winds. We knew we had to avoid the lee of the islands where the winds are too light. So we sailed on port gybe towards the coast of Morocco. 

I started my nightwatch at 3am. Was it the sleep that was now wiped off my eyes or were those dozens of dimly lit Moroccon fishing bouys not at all visible 5 minutes ago?  

I kind of liked how the decision on gybing was made for me. And due west we went, at a wonderful 8 to 9 knots. And then… darkness. All the screens went dark, all the lights went out, we had lost all power! It took 3 seconds to realise that now the auto pilot was off as well. I grabbed the wheel and alarmed the crew.

An and Sara ran up to the flybridge. 

I gave the helm to An. These boats have a hydraulic steering system so you don’t feel the pressure on the rudder. You feel less than what you feel behind the wheel of your car. You feel nothing. Poor An was in a deep sleep 60 seconds ago and the nightsky was very dark, so there was no point of reference. We hove to. This basically stops the boat while the sails are up.

The generator stalled as well! I couldn’t believe it!

Over the course of several hours I was mistified by the source of the issue. 

An was very uncomfortable at the helm and I had to go back to the wheel. Instead of looking for clues in the engine room or in manuals I was going to be tied to the wheel until sunrise. Sailing on the Navionics app on my phone and the windvane only visible because we were shining a torch on it. I wondered if these devices’ batteries would last till daylight. We set the course back to the islands with the aim of catching cell reception from the Canaries and get support. Our Starlink was obviously not working without power. 

Suddenly I remembered that I, so diligently, had cleaned the generator’s seawaterstrainer. I told An to check the seacock. And yes, I made the rookie mistake of not opening the valve after the job. An started the generator and it ran! But still our batteries were dead despite the display showing 60% charge and inverters being on and we still didn’t have power. 

An took over the helm and now that we were sailing closer to the wind she held a steady course. I found the switches that override the batteries and allow the generator to power the boat directly. Now we had power. We had auto pilot! We also had Starlink! 

After sunrise the kids were up. The wind made them very excited and they were practicing their (most annoying) songs. At least they were happy.

Despite it being a Sunday, I had text conversations with Borja from Balearic Boats, who in hindsight had given me the solution very quickly but it involved shutting the whole boat down again. Something I was reluctant to do. Andrew Fairbrass from Berthon kept coming up with thoughts and suggestions and eventually showed me a picture of the reset button on the batteries. You can turn it left and right, which I had already done. But, you could also push it in! 

Click, click, click and the ordeal was over. 

The batteries had been completely offline all the while. They had gone into protection because they weren’t at 60% as the main display showed, but much lower! Now we know we can only trust the Mastervolt display which is somewhat hidden inside a cupboard. 

With Tenerife back in sight we changed course and headed for the Caribbean again! The amazing sailing conditions haven’t changed and we’re making good time. Last night was wonderfully uneventful!