Daniel Codd

Without medical services, how do you keep yourself, your crew, or your family healthy? It’s one of the most daunting elements of sailing offshore.

We joined crews preparing for the Grand Large Odyssey: a three-year, 35,000-mile round the world rally organised by Grand Large Yachting, builders of Outremer, Gunboat, ORC, RM, Allures and Garcia brands, for owners of those boats (the next edition starts in November this year).

Ahead of the rally start, GLY held a ‘World Odyssey University’; a week-long series of seminars and networking events crammed with information for participants.

One of the recurring topics was healthcare on board, including a full-day seminar led by Dr Matthieu Coudreuse, an ER doctor who specialises in medicine in isolated and offshore environments. Coudreuse has worked as the onboard doctor on an icebreaking expedition vessel, in remote tropical clinics and with disaster relief teams. The GLY entrants also heard a presentation by previous rally crews on how to avoid or handle health issues based on their experiences and learnings. These are some of the key takeaways:

Before you go

Preparing the humans is as important as preparing the yacht. Just as you wouldn’t set out without servicing the boat’s engine, allow enough time for medical checks, including a visit to the GP, optician and dentist. Advice is that ‘men of a certain age’ should also consider visiting a urologist.

If you have any health conditions that require ongoing medication, such as diabetes meds or blood thinners, discuss with your doctor how to carry enough supplies to allow for delays or re-routing.

Look at the areas you plan on, or might consider, visiting and ensure you’re up to date on vaccinations (eg hepatitis, rabies, tetanus, typhoid, yellow fever or encephalitis). Proof of vaccination is mandatory for some countries. Make sure any crew or guests planning on joining the voyage do the same, and that everyone on board has comprehensive health insurance.

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On a long passage, also plan to incorporate ongoing health checks – many countries along the way will offer good, affordable health and dental care. Previous GLY rally crews accessed treatment in Panama, Tahiti, Noumea, Reunion, Mauritius and South Africa.

Dedicate time to more advanced medical training – a basic First Aid at Sea should be the minimum, but there are multi-day courses suitable for situations where you may not be able to access medical help for days, including from marine specialists such as MSOS (msos.org.uk).

You might consider signing up for a tele-med service – there are several private providers that offer a dedicated e-medicine service for offshore sailors, in addition to the MRCC-connected TMAS services (see over the page). Anyone using the French TMAS service can send their medical records to their Toulouse base in advance.

And consider your own fitness – back sprains etc are a common problem and can be debilitating. Working on your own strength, core stability and balance before setting off can help reduce the risk of injury.

Get prepared

Preparing for all medical eventualities is impossible, and health issues completely unrelated to sailing can always rear their head, but having a good awareness of your own health is key as getting an early and accurate diagnosis is critical.

You can work out what your greatest risk factors are, to prepare to mitigate them. The most common risks include: skin problems due to exposure to sun; wet/saltwater and problems with wound healing; food and drinking water contamination; the boat itself; and risks associated with stopovers.

During the previous two-year GLY world rally there were a small number of serious incidents, including a broken leg when a crew member was flicked overboard by the mainsheet while sailing in 4m waves, and safely recovered. Another dislocated their shoulder falling through an open hatch when walking on deck. A skipper dived to attempt to free their stuck anchor, but their air tank ran empty at 15m depth and they ascended too rapidly. And a seemingly innocuous incident led to a helicopter medi-vac after one crew member cut their feet on coral, which caused an infection that didn’t respond to antibiotics.

What to pack

When offshore or in many remote areas, your onboard medical kit will be your only resource, so spend time considering what to carry. There is no compulsory list of medicines to carry, only advisories – rally organisers and tele-med services can help, while TMAS France publishes two lists, for vessels 0-60 miles offshore, and 60 miles-plus.

As a starting point, you should carry treatments for seasickness, cuts and wounds, burns, bruising and broken bones, allergic reactions, hypothermia and sunstroke, infections, skin problems, and digestive problems.
Every first aid kit should have some sort of pain relief – from paracetamol and ibuprofen. Stronger analgesics, such as opiates and anti-inflammatories, will need a prescription (also include anti-sickness medication, as opiates can make many people sick). Always talk to a medical professional before administering opiates, and be aware of laws on restricted substances, such as morphine, when crossing international borders.

If any crew have known allergies or asthma they should have their own EpiPen or inhaler, with spares in the first aid kit. Even if you have no known allergies on board, consider carrying an EpiPen as you’ll likely come into contact with new foods, insects etc.

A range of dressings can be useful, including gauze, steristrips and tape. Suturing can be immensely difficult for inexperienced first-aiders, particularly on a moving boat, so a staple kit can be easier – but still requires training and practice beforehand. Consider carrying plastic or inflatable splints and a neck brace for any suspected broken bones or spinal issues.

Burns are surprisingly common at sea. Make sure the boat has both washes for chemical burns and scald treatments, as well as waterproof dressings to prevent infection. Diagnostic tools such as a pen torch to assess pupil dilation, mirrors, urine dip sticks, a thermometer, scalpels, scissors, needles and syringes should be kept in sterile waterproof packaging.

Consider if you want to carry a small bottle of oxygen in case of suspected drowning or respiratory issues. Or even a defibrillator – which can be helpful in an emergency, but is relatively heavy and bulky.

But the more comprehensive your onboard medical kit, the more you need to be aware of drug interactions – for example, medication that a crew member is taking for a chronic condition with a drug taken to treat a new issue. Do not administer prescription medicines without medical advice from a tele-med service or similar.

Prevention over cure

Tropical environments bring their own challenges. For example, mosquitos can fly more than two miles over sea, potentially carrying malaria, dengue, chikungunya, yellow fever, or zika fever. Prevention – avoiding getting bitten – is best, although you can do a self-test for malaria onboard to avoid taking anti-malarials, which just involves a single blood prick.

Digestive issues such as gastroenteritis and parasites again mostly require prevention. A rule to reduce risk is ‘Cook it, boil it, peel it, or forget it.’

Watch out for drinking water and ice served ashore, as well as making sure your own water supply on board is safe (keep on top of filters, tank hygiene etc). There’s an added risk of dehydration when gastro issues combine with sailing, so carry rehydration and electrolyte sachets.

Travellers in the tropics can be at risk of Leptospirosis – avoid by not eating fallen fruits from the ground, or drinking from bottles in cafes/beach bars. Ciguatera can be avoided by not eating fish caught in some areas – check official and local sources to avoid risky catches.

In Vanuatu, nearly all the rally crews picked up some kind of infection, even from a simple splinter. Antibacterial gel is often ineffective – focus instead on handwashing with soap and being careful to dry your hands, and use alcohol to treat. Other key items to have in your armoury are tweezers and natural topical treatments which often have no expiry date, such as tea tree oil (antibacterial and anti-fungal), lavender aspic to treat insect bites, helichrysum or peppermint oil for bruises, and tiger balm for sprains and strains.

If you need help

If you do have an emergency or require medical assistance on board while offshore, Dr Coudreuse emphasised that the first thing to do is check that the boat is secure, and the rest of the crew is safe. Prevent further accidents – before you begin taking care of the patient.

Assess the severity of the situation: are they bleeding? Have they lost consciousness?

Carry out any basic first aid needed: recovery position, chest compressions etc. If possible, take photos of their injury, skin colour etc, which can be useful for a tele-med diagnosis.

In a critical situation, first call TMAS or the tele-med service, but have email ready to send photographs or other information.

Make sure you know the medical history of the patient: do they have any allergies, pre-existing conditions etc? Then you will likely need to examine them: determine location of any pain, measure blood pressure, heart rate, breathing frequency, oxygen saturation levels, temperature and other key observations. There are forms you can download in advance with prompts to guide you through the process.

Dr Coudreuse explained that it’s important when observing and describing a patient’s condition to be very specific. For example, saying they have ‘difficulty breathing’ gives limited information. While a wheezing noise on exhalation is a classic sign of asthma, in children a noise on inhalation often indicates an object in the upper airways. Likewise, when describing pain, the more specific you can be, the more able a remote doctor will be to diagnose the problem – for example, kidney stones cause a very characteristic type of pain.

But be reassured, according to Dr Coudreuse when the crew are the eyes and ears of the doctors, 70% of situations can be satisfactorily handled on board.

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“Mom, wake up! We’re approaching Cabo Frio.” My daughter’s voice cut through my drowsy thoughts as I dozed in the starboard cabin. I got up immediately, not wanting to miss it. In our 14 years of sailing as a family, it was our fifth time rounding this cape – but the first time we’d see it clearly in daylight with good visibility.

Aboard Thunderbird, our 15m performance cruising trimaran, was my husband, James, and our six children: Tormi (16), Raivo (14), Pearl (12), Zan (9), Jade (6), and Atlas (4).

Time has passed quickly since we last rounded Cabo Frio in 2020. I was pregnant then with my youngest child, heavy with a growing baby and uncertainty. We were sailing south-east from Vitória to Ilhabela, riding the early waves of the pandemic.

Back then it was night. Thunderbird had just cleared the point, and I was on watch with three reefs in the main and a partially rolled-in jib. I remember 30 knot gusts, big seas, the white flash of the lighthouse catching my peripheral vision. I watched the instruments, adjusting the pilot with shifting wind and currents. Even with reduced sail area, we were flying: 11 to 13 knots average, surfing peaks at 17 to 20.

Despite the speed of the boat, the motion of the trimaran was so smooth that the rest of the crew – then all under age 12 – were fast asleep, oblivious, below. Even though we had three cabins that could accommodate six, five kids piled together on the giant family sea bed in the main salon. Jade, the youngest at the time, was curled against me in the corner of my watch seat, her warm weight the only comfort in that tense darkness.

Today couldn’t be more different. Warm sun, gentle swells, and the smell of land mixing with salt air. James and Tormi held the morning watch, James studied the plotter. We’d grown into a proper crew over these years. James and I traded two-hour watches while our three oldest handled two-on, four-off rotations. The little ones joined whenever curiosity called them – which was often.

Tormi was watching for hazards, quietly absorbing the scenery of back-lit mountains. Even in grayscale, Cabo Frio’s dramatic stone cliffs erupt from the ocean with Brazil’s characteristic grandeur. As James steered us close to Ilha do Faro, the entire crew appeared in the cockpit, in awe of its massive sea caves and 16m cast iron tower.

As we rounded the point, the sun bathed the eastern side of the cape in morning light. Colours exploded to life as the light revealed vibrant greens and the rich tones of the stone hidden earlier in silhouette. We saw a couple of boats exit bays we had not yet explored. We knew white sand beaches and turquoise waters awaited us there, but we couldn’t stop – our time with Brazilian customs was up and we had pressure to move to new waters.

A sharp sensation hit my stomach just as it had the night before when I watched Rio’s illuminated cityscape drift by in the dark. These iconic landscapes brought back everything we’d experienced living in South America, the dramatic landscapes and people who had made this part of the world feel like home.

Sailing around South America

Over the last five years we’d sailed between Brazil, Uruguay, and Argentina. The first two and half years, when international ports were closed, we stayed in Brazilian waters. I gave birth to Atlas in August 2020, in Ubatuba – São Paulo’s ‘Capital of Surf’. Though we sailed numerous times between Rio and Itajaí, much of our slower cruising time was devoted to exploring anchorages between Ilha Grande and Ilhabela.

With a foreign flagged boat, the pandemic offered us a unique opportunity to deeply experience this section of coast with the gift of time. The Brazilian sailing community loved our wild scene, a mess of feral kids on a fast trimaran, and embraced us with open hearts. We participated in local races and made wonderful friends.

When borders reopened, we sailed back and forth between Brazil and Uruguay. Then in October 2023, all movements stopped when James was diagnosed with cancer. Months of tests and doctor’s visits in Uruguay, Argentina, and Chile culminated in James having successful surgery in Santiago, Chile.

The medical treatment drained us financially. But instead of new sails and boat upgrades, we’d bought something more valuable: a clean bill of health and a new lease on his life. James wanted only one thing: to keep sailing with our family. We felt the same.

In May 2024, six months post-surgery, we took a critical look at our 90m2 carbon mainsail. Most of the delamination was in the lower part of the sail. James and the kids cut it off at the third reef. They selected the best cut offs and used it to patch problems areas in the sail that remained. The final product was more like a rigid wing. But we believed it would work.

We tested our patched main with a successful winter voyage up the La Plata River to Buenos Aires. When we returned, everyone was committed to continuing sailing. Our plan was ambitious: sail from Uruguay to Brazil, then onward to the Caribbean and Panama.

It was January 2025, still early in the season for heading north. The summer high pressure systems were lower down in the southern hemisphere, bringing beautiful warm summer weather, but this also meant a flow pattern that pushed persistent north and north-easterly winds down the Brazilian coast – directly against our intended route.

We wanted to make it directly to São Sebastiao state, so we needed the right low-pressure system: powerful enough for 4-5 days of southerly wind to make the 800 miles, but not so intense that we’d be battered up the coast. With the state of our current sails, going offshore was not an option. We would stay coastal to manage risk.

The timing had to be perfect. Too early and the system might overtake us; too late and we’d face messy seas or dying wind. We missed our first window in January waiting for an AIS unit to be repaired. The next six weeks, we watched in frustration as big summer high-pressure systems repeatedly elongated, squeezing promising lows into nothing. Finally, in mid-February, we saw our chance.

We left La Paloma on a four-day passage, beam-reaching and motor-sailing up the coast. One afternoon we had a short-lived opportunity to fly our gennaker, but the rest of the trip was an uphill fight.

We sailed to Ilhabela, Ilha Anchieta, and Ubatuba – home of Manuel Aparecido Jesus de Oliveira, our local problem solver. There we repaired our Mitsubishi electronic program controller, re-sealed our fuel tanks, and did routine maintenance on our engine.

Another 65 miles took Thunderbird up the coast to Ilha Grande Bay. We planned to base ourselves out of Paraty to prepare for the next phase of our voyage: 4,000 miles to the Caribbean. We spent a month living a very simple life on the hook, collecting fresh water from waterfall-fed springs. We took the tender deep into the mangroves to see red-clawed tree crabs.

The kids climbed giant boulders, ran barefoot on mossy trails through the Mâta Atlantica, swam and dived every day. Their energy was fuelled by tropical fruit, rice, beans, veggies and farofa. After just three weeks in the warm water, Atlas was swimming strong with no flotation. It felt fitting for our Ubatuba boy to learn how to swim in Brazilian waters.

We changed anchorages almost daily, from the tropical fjords and surreal emerald-green mangroves of Mamangua, to the beautiful mountainous bays and smaller islands surrounding Paraty.

Everyone got comfortable hand-steering the boat and using line of sight navigation. In Ilha Grande Bay, there was flat water and steady wind. It was an idyllic place, especially for young children, to learn how to sail.

‘Days became a blur of sea, sunrises, sunsets and nights’

The second month, we stopped our motion to focus on final preparations. We stayed anchored, disconnected far from roads and cell service. To get anything like food, parts, or supplies, we drove the dinghy 15 minutes to a small dock, then took a small local bus into Paraty. In this way, we started to meet the wonderful community of indigenous Guarani who lived along this peninsula.

We dived regularly on the boat, keeping the bottom clean and ready to go. We ordered a new AIS unit to replace the repaired one from Uruguay that had suddenly quit. We replaced solar panels, installed our spare Lewmar Mamba autopilot, did a rig check, reinforced our netting, and changed Thunderbird’s hydraulic fluid.

We checked and re-glued some of the patches on our mainsail. The main was holding up pretty well, but our jib did not look like it would last much longer. So we reached out to the local sailing community in a last-ditch search for some used sails.

A Brazilian friend, Silvio Ramos, who organises the BRally up the Amazon River, offered us a lifeline. He had an old main and jib from his 40-footer spare. They were Dacron, cross cut, smaller and lighter than we needed, but at least we’d have a back-up on board.

Then Roberto Paradeda from Quantum Sails Brazil got in touch. He had a used tri-radial taffeta jib sitting in his loft. It would be better for going upwind. The sail needed minor work but was a gift: we were blown away by his generosity.

When the sail arrived, we installed it immediately. Though slightly smaller than our original jib, it looked incredibly strong, and the loft’s workmanship on the new clew, luff and leech was perfect. We felt a rush of relief, certain we would now make it up the coast.

We made a test sail the next day to Tarituba, a small fishing village, staging ourselves closer to the channels that would take us out to the open ocean. We were ready.

The following morning, we departed Tarituba and phase two of our epic voyage began, the mountains of Ilha Grande fading behind us as the sun set. We felt nostalgic for the wild southern anchorages of the big island, especially the surf and squeaking white sand beaches of Praia de Lopes Mendes.

This nostalgia was replaced quickly with the sudden responsibility of ocean navigation, and the mental toughness needed for our first night at sea after being in protected waters for two months.

Twenty-four hours later, the long days of voyage preparation (which had felt so gruelling at the time) seemed like a lazy vacation fading into distant memory. We were back in intense voyage mode and had found our rhythm again. Here we were, rounding the infamous cape that had humbled us so many times before.

The following days, the Brazilian coast unfolded like a familiar painting viewed under different light. We’d sailed these waters before, but never with such acute awareness of how precious each mile was for all of us. The days became a blur of sea, sunrises, sunsets and nights – a mix of upwind, beam reaching, and motor-sailing. Our goal was to traverse the remainder of Brazil’s coastline with minimal stops before reaching French Guiana.

As each child discovered what they could offer on board – and rose to meet that responsibility – we witnessed the kind of growth that only comes from being essential to a project, not optional. Their evolution from passengers to crew was proof that our decision to keep sailing, despite all its challenges, had been the right one.

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Magical mangroves

We passed Cabo São Tome in the dark. Then we sailed along the coast of Espiritu Santo, making a rushed fuel stop in Guarapari. Even though it was only half a mile up the river entrance and back, we begrudged every minute that took us away from our northward momentum.

After six days of minimal sleep we decided to stop in Camamu, a port in Bahia we had never been to before.

We were tired and the plan was to pick up a mooring for the night in a narrow, protected waterway by Ilha do Goió. We had squally conditions on our approach: rain, lightning and gusts to 34 knots, so slowed the boat down so we could enter the river mouth at first light.

Dawn appeared, and we found ourselves in a magical, braided waterway surrounded by mangroves and coconut trees. The air was filled with the smell of flowers and the sound of singing birds. Brazil was showing us yet another face we hadn’t known she possessed.

Our next stop came three days later. Stella Marina, in the port of Barra de São Miguel had fuel. But it meant navigating an intimidating entrance.

Our Brazilian friends assured us it was no problem, but we thought long and hard about whether or not we should go in. Getting into the channel required a 90° turn towards land, over a narrow sandbar flanked by reefs, followed by a sharp right turn that threaded us between the beach and breaking waves, before the relative safety of the river’s channel. We studied all our charts and looked at any other options for refuelling.

With the pressure of time on us, we decided to trust our friends and contacted Stella Marina to advise them we were, nervously, coming in. They sent two boats out to guide us. As soon as we committed to going in, I kind of wished that we hadn’t. After everything we’d been through, risking mechanical failure felt like tempting fate.

But it was too late. We were suddenly going for it, trusting the universe would keep us out of danger. We followed the marina’s RIB, surfing over the sandbar, the engine at 3,000rpm pushing hard against the current, and into the unmarked channel. I held my breath many times as we snaked our way along the curves of the river.

James’ 48 years of experience at sea was evident in these high stress moments, his hand calm and steady on the wheel, not letting us get spun off course by the strong currents, the pressure, or any hesitation.

We made it out safely the next morning the same way we went in, then all looked at each other once we were released to the sea, promising to never, ever, do that again.

Approaching Recife two days later, we felt the sea state had already changed beneath us. The wind’s angle shifted subtly, the current that had fought us for weeks finally began to help, and suddenly we were sailing with Brazil instead of against it. Finally there was only the quiet of the ocean as the engine was silenced.

As we passed Cabedelo, where our Brazilian adventure had begun five years ago, the symmetry felt intentional, like a gift from the ocean. What followed was pure sailing magic. With 15-20 knot winds on our quarter, we flew the gennaker day after day, the kids taking turns on the sheets, their competence a testament to how far we’d all come. At night, when fatigue made trimming too complex, we ran the jib that Roberto had given us.

So much salt covered everything that we stopped adding any to our food. Everyone’s hair got lighter and faces had a bronze patina from the sun and wind. We were turning into creatures of the sea.

Into the North

The sargassum began appearing as we moved north, bright yellow patches that set off our depth sounder alarm, sometimes slowing the boat enough to make the pilot malfunction. As we approached the equator, the blooms grew thicker and more frequent, becoming more of a navigational hazard, and so we steered to avoid them.

We crossed the equator in the darkness, without any fanfare. It was Atlas’s 1st, Jade’s 2nd, Pearl and Zan’s 4th, mine and the oldest kids’ 5th and James’s 7th. The kids noticed a distinct line on the sea where blue water turned to green as we sailed along the mouth of the Amazon.

Soon after, we were out of Brazilian waters and in French Guiana. Eleven days after leaving Barra de Sao Miguel, we anchored at Îles du Salut in French Guiana.
We had a crew discussion about going to see the island, but everyone just wanted to keep going. Another 600 miles to the Caribbean now felt like nothing. We continued north.

Four days later, Thunderbird was in the Caribbean Sea. We waited outside of the Bocas del Dragón for the tide to shift so we could enter the Gulf of Paria. The kids hovered excitedly in the cockpit, their salt-stained clothes telling the story of our passage better than any logbook entry.

Two months of preparation, 30 days of sailing, and five years of living in South America was all about to become memories. I had the familiar bittersweet feeling that comes at the end of every passage; relief and loss intertwined. I looked at James, whose eyes held a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. The scar from his surgery had faded, but the gift of this moment – of being here, together, alive – would never diminish.

The trip was transformative in such a positive way.

We were not the same family that left La Paloma three months earlier. The dynamic nature of life at sea cultivated qualities like adaptability, critical thinking, and collaborative problem-solving. When you can’t just pull over or call for help, everyone had to rise to the occasion.

Gliding through the Boca, I felt pride for our six children who had evolved so beautifully to meet the challenges of fulfilling their father’s dream to keep on sailing. I also felt thankful for our strong boat, our trusty mainsail that had held together, and for the kindness of friends who helped make this trip possible.

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If you enjoyed this….

Yachting World is the world’s leading magazine for bluewater cruisers and offshore sailors. Every month we have inspirational adventures and practical features to help you realise your sailing dreams.

Build your knowledge with a subscription delivered to your door. See our latest offers and save at least 30% off the cover price.

Note: We may earn a commission when you buy through links on our site, at no extra cost to you. This doesn’t affect our editorial independence.

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The plan is simple: buy a boat and seek out your best life. You’ve decided you want a multihull, for the space and stability that offers.

Your other key requirements are comfort – a yacht you can live aboard for months – and a multihull that’s bluewater capable so you can explore wild remote places. It has to be safe, of course. And spacious enough for you, your partner, maybe your kids (and perhaps someone to help look after them sometimes), or a few friends and family. After all, adventures are better shared.

Bonus items? If the budget allows – performance, please! A fast boat means less time at sea (critical for keeping the non-sailors happy). Faster means more fun, but also the faster you sail the more flexibility you have for weather routing. So speed equals safety.

If this all sounds familiar, that’s because many Yachting World readers dream of the same thing: a bluewater catamaran, powering through the miles, and the freedom of an endless horizon.

Every year, I work with hundreds of people chasing this dream. And wow, it’s a big project! Most begin with hours upon hours, if not weeks, lost to YouTube and online reviews, comparing boat brands. Once committed, the number of decisions to make and to-do list items explodes.

What modifications or custom options will you want? Do you want gas or all-electric? How many cabins do you need, and what layout suits you best? What sails do you need? Who to make them? Then there’s electronics, spares, tools, toys, logistics… and how to leave behind your land life.

Buried in logistics and yard work, cruisers often fall into a common trap: time and time again they forget the sailing element.

Many new catamaran owners are experienced monohull sailors but new to multihulls. Others charter in the Med a few times a year but have never owned their own boat. Some haven’t sailed in years – kids and work got in the way. Some, incredibly, are total beginners.

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So when the boat finally arrives or the jobs list is finished in the yard, most owners are exhausted and over-excited. Their sailing skills are rusty. But, at that point, taking the time to polish up their boat handling is not what they want to do. Understandably, they want to slip lines and go.

The problem is that a lack of skill and confidence can lead to a bumpy first couple of years cruising. The best case scenario – if they’re lucky – is that only the boat gets bruised. I’ve seen many boats listed for sale within two years.

Two things matter most to the success of your bluewater experience:

• The brand and model of catamaran you buy
• Your sailing and cruising skills

Your skill and confidence will make or break your experience – and your crew’s too. Here are the 10 top skills to polish before casting off.

Docking a catamaran with Twin Engines

Leaving the marina is going to be the unavoidable first step. The departure sets the tone. Nail it, and there’ll be a good feeling in the air.

Twin engines take some getting used to. First, forget your rudders: lock the helm straight and steer with the engines. Famously, cats can spin on the spot. But it rarely turns out quite as advertised… high topsides, no keel, and light bows mean your ability to pivot is often negated by windage and drift.

Once you figure out how to use the limitations of a cat to your advantage you’ll love the double engines. Practice is key.

Catamaran docking tips

• Stern to wind is your mantra. Keeping the stern facing the wind makes the boat more stable and easier to control.
• Park in reverse. Stay stern to the wind, and you have better visibility and comms with the aft line handler.
• Skip the ‘spin’. Where possible, use a 3/5/7-point turn with one engine at a time. It’s simpler, less confusing and thus less risk-prone. And you can keep the boat to windward of the tight space within your turn.
• Use one hand. Traditionally, driving multihulls was taught with two hands: left hand left throttle; right hand right throttle. Change this to one hand. Then you can move around, twist your torso, see, communicate and park successfully.

Wind angles and routing

Factory polars can be shocking. “50° to windward?! How will I ever get upwind anywhere?” you wonder. Well… yes… catamarans are reaching machines. They don’t point well. Daggerboards help a lot with upwind performance. But even then, crack off 10° and they fly.

Don’t blame your tools. Learn how to use them. So how to best leverage this?

Sail more miles, faster. Cracked off = big speed gains. Sometimes you can still reach a windward destination faster than a monohull of similar length by using this technique.

Wait it out. If a shift is coming in the next few days, consider delaying your departure. Then enjoy a fast few hours of downwind sailing, rather than the 10 hours slog you initially signed up for.

Don’t pinch – it doesn’t work. Accept your angles and see if you can outsmart your own plan. If you do ever see a cat pinching, don’t be fooled. They will be using the engine for assistance.

Weight management

Cats are wider, roomier, and generally have more space for more stuff (much of which you probably don’t need). But they are also lighter, and more weight sensitive. All this means there is a lot to consider when it comes to stowage.
If you are a monohull sailor, be prepared to pay just as much, if not more attention to how much and where you add extra weight on board.

Catamarans are typically lighter displacement than a monohull of equivalent length, and so extra weight on board will have a greater impact. And, unlike a monohull which relies on its keel for stability, a catamaran relies on its beam. Therefore, loading the catamaran with weight aloft, or not distributing it evenly across both hulls, will make it more prone to heeling and reduce its stability.

What to do

• Live minimally. Be ruthless about what comes aboard. Once ‘stuff’ (the usual culprits are extra kitchen equipment, doubled-up tools and spares, shoes you never wear, water toys you never use) comes aboard, you will feel a sense of ‘loss’ to take it off. Save yourself the grief, and never let it on.
• Keep the ends light. I know they are roomy and no one sleeps there. But they are empty for a reason! Weight needs to be central, and low. Consider storing the outboard motor off the tender and use bow lockers for light gear only.
• Balance port and starboard. One hull shouldn’t carry your whole life. Check from astern on a calm day that your boat isn’t listing.

Reefing a multihull

Cats don’t spill any power via heeling. They just power up, until they flip. And that is why reefing is key. Reef proactively. Set strict wind speed reefing thresholds (lots of manufacturers recommend these).

But don’t be afraid to err on the more cautious side, as the guidelines rarely take into account sea state.

Multihull reefing tips

• Topping lift! No vang means the boom drops hard onto the roof without it.
• Mainsails don’t drop easily. There is a lot of friction due to full battens compressing mast cars, and probably a 2:1 halyard. Consider using downhauls on the luff or upgrading mast cars to ones with roller bearings and using the reefing line to coax the sail down. If all else fails, you can change course upwind but be cautious of the increased apparent wind when you do that.

Depowering a multihull

As aforementioned, gusts don’t spill power on a cat – they load it up. Multihulls can take a lot, but the line between everything being fine and not fine is sudden. You need a fast, simple depowering setup in case of any unexpected gusts or squalls.

The previous advice was to reef early – but we aren’t always good at that. So you need a plan if you get caught out and miss the window of opportunity to reef.

Multihull depowering tips

• Active sheets. Keep these on winches with the clutches open – always the mainsheet and headsail/spinnaker sheet.
• Traveller dump. The windward traveller line should also be ready to dump. In a gust, this can be your first move because it’s in the cockpit where you also are likely to be.
• Bear away. Go for a quick bear away as soon as you’ve depowered the sails to reduce the apparent wind. Practice hand-steering this.
• Turn downwind fast. Quickly straighten the helm the moment you don’t feel the wind on your windward cheek.
• Daggerboards. Keep the leeward daggerboard line on a winch ready to quickly raise it to avoid tripping.
• Depowering. For kites and gennakers, set up quick-release tack systems for instant depowering.

Downwind sails

Cats sail downwind like a dream, so it’s time to embrace that. You’ll be especially thankful for your and your crew’s proficiency with the spinnaker or Code 0 when the winds soften and you have a long ocean passage ahead of you.

Any monohull sailors might underestimate the gains to be made by flying downwind sails. But a few knots can make a big difference over 3,000 miles. Anyway, you are out of excuses! Cats are stable, the bow is safe – and with its big soft nets, it’s even kind to your knees. There’s no justification for not going up there and giving this a go.

Downwind catamaran tips

• Practice the drop. If you know you can get it down, you overcome the fear of putting it up. This might include using socks, furlers, or a traditional drop to douse the offwind sails. Nail them all!
• Optimise your systems. Make hoisting, flying and dropping these intimidating sails easier – reroute lines if needed, add Martin Breakers (a quick-trip shackle to release tack line under load) and use electric winches if that helps smooth
  the routine.
• Learn the angles. The more you understand about what wind strengths and angles your sails love, the more likely you’ll be to fly them. Get as much data as possible, or a sail crossover chart from your sailmaker. And also keep a good log and note your own numbers.

Feedback cues

We’ve all been there. You go off watch with the boat sailing peacefully in 10-15 knots. And you wake up having fallen out of bed, the boat heeled over hard, in 20 knots upwind. You will now reminisce on those days with fondness. As a catamaran sailor, you are going to have to master the art of subtlety. Specifically, interpreting less obvious feedback that the boat is overpowered or underpowered.

Tips for tuning in

• Use the instruments. But don’t use them in isolation. Boat speed and wind speed tell you a lot and it’s critical to respond to them with reefing (see point No4). However, you can also sense a few degrees of heel, a change in acceleration, or a shift in pressure with your body. The less reliant you are on instruments and the more intuitive your relationship is with the boat, the safer you will be.
• Use your hearing! Listen for slamming, rig hum, and the frequency of the wave slap.
• Log what you ‘feel’. Log regularly and include wider information so you can look back and compare. For example, if a few weeks ago you were happily eating dinner with no reefs in the main, what’s different this time? The sea state? Your fatigue? Intuition?
• Power down early. Comfort trumps speed on cruising boats 99% of the time (which can be hard to adapt to for successful, driven people). But remember the dream – it’s usually a version of ‘slowing down’.

Manoeuvres

Two hulls change things when it comes to manoeuvres: tacking is slow, gybing is violent. You need to get comfortable with it all.

It’s not uncommon to find catamaran sailors who avoid manoeuvres at night. That’s great in theory – until you sail into a wind hole, or want to avoid a squall, or need to miss a cargo ship. Really every bluewater sailor needs to know how to complete manoeuvres in all conditions, at any time of day.

Upwind Manoeuvres

Build up speed before the tack and use it to carry you through. Remember, angles are wider and the turn may well be more than 100°.
If you have them, and they aren’t already down, drop both daggerboards to the same level. It gives you some grip during the turn.
Back the jib through the tack if needed (unless it’s self-tacking, in which case get creative with a handybilly or extra control line).

Downwind Manoeuvres

With a square top, big roach and full battened mainsail, gybing can be exciting. The main needs a lot of control through the gybe. Centre the traveller and make sure it’s locked off on both sides, tighten up the mainsheet, gybe – then control the sheet to dampen the slam when it flips to the other tack.

Catamaran anchoring

Most cruisers are at anchor about 80% of the time, even if they are ‘sailing around the world’! It’s a critical skill, and a core element of living the dream.

But in order to spend your days swimming off the back of the boat or enjoying serene sunset cocktails on the bow – and to comfortably sleep, make repairs, and live on the hook – you need to be able to anchor confidently, reliably and securely.

Catamaran anchoring skills

• Set it properly. Use 3-7 times the depth. Reverse hard on it (1,500-2,000rpm) – better to drag and find out it’s not holding now, rather than at 3am.
• Find space. Choose a spot with not too many boats around. If there are, make sure they’re catamarans too as similar hull shapes swing similarly. Resist the temptation to be too close to the beach in the crowds (instead, get a fast tender and learn how to use it).
• Always use a bridle. If it isn’t already set up, attach a mooring line of identical length to each bow cleat and tie both to the chain in the same place with a prussick knot or rolling hitch.
• Float the chain. Learn to float the chain in preparation for the reef-laden anchorages of French Polynesia or other heavenly spots. Use a couple of traditional heavy plastic fenders at about 10m increments.
• Shorelines. Know how to set up a shoreline to control your swing. This will open up the tighter anchorages, or the deeper ones, which can be beautiful. Anchor as normal and then head ashore with a long line and tie it to something stable like a tree or a rock.

Enjoy the comfort

Sometimes sailors can be a bit masochistic. Let that go. This dream involves two hulls – it’s time to get comfortable.

Before departure, try to relax. You don’t need to prep every meal in advance and psychologically prepare yourself for beyond three or four days of the usual motion sickness. Instead, think about activities to keep everyone busy and entertained.

You can cook, bake, eat, sleep, do yoga, workout, learn the guitar, or dance while underway (yes, I’ve done all of the above). This is a lifestyle.

Just one thing to remember: when sailing downwind the wind funnels through the saloon, so card games don’t work so well. Everything else? Go for it.

I feel so lucky to have spent so much time around people making this dream into their reality. It’s inspiring to see people brave enough to go after more from their life. So if you want to make that dream last you’ll need to invest in the skills to make it work. Docking, reefing, routing, anchoring – mastering these techniques will add a layer of safety, confidence and ease to your experience.

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Biotherm is the official victor of the Ocean Race Europe 2025 having crowned an impressive overall performance with yet another first place finish at the end of Leg 5, as well as a first place win in the Coastal Race held in Boka Bay, Montegnegro.

Throughout the seven week, 4,500 nautical mile race around Europe, Biotherm has maintained a consistent overall lead, winning the first, second, and third legs of the race and collecting Scoring Gate points in each instance.

The only mark in the team’s neat run is a third place finish in Leg 4, which was instead a homecoming victory for Italian sailor Ambrogio Beccaria’s Team Allagrande Mapei. After the dramatic collision with Team Holcim-PRB early in the race, for which they were not granted redress, Allagrande finished fifth overall.

In second and third place were Yoann Richomme‘s Paprec Arkéa and Rosalind Kuiper’s Team Holcim-PRB. Team Malizia came in fourth, with Canada Ocean Racing and Team Amaala bringing up the rear.

Biotherm skipper Paul Meilhat credits all-around collaboration between the shore teams and racing crew, as well as the boat’s preparation, for their triumphant victory.

“There are two parts of this victory,” he said, naming the organisation on shore and the boat’s preparation.

“Biotherm is more designed for this sort of race because it is really fast in transitions – light winds and flat water. We did a lot of improvements on the boat this winter. Also the crew, the motivation – I think we are all focused, we all concentrated, and we all wanted to win the race – that was the case from Kiel.”

How did the Ocean Race Europe end?

Final overall ranking of the Ocean Race Europe:

1. Biotherm – 55 points
2. Paprec Arkéa – 40 points
3. Team Holcim-PRB – 38.5 points
4. Team Malizia – 27 points
5. Allagrande Mapei Racing – 26 points
6. Be Water Positive – 18 points
7. Team Amaala – 9 points

Article contiues below…

The Ocean Race Europe Leg 5 at a glance:

• • Stopover events in Genoa highlighted the importance of ocean conservation, and how offshore racing can be a tool for environmental advocacy
  • The Ocean Race Europe Leg 5 started slow, with two days of light winds after the fleet left Genoa
  • Thunderstorms, lightning, and torrential rains hit on Day 3, with teams reaching foiling speeds of up to 34 knots
  • The fleet segmented off of Sicily, with five boats in the leading group sailing ahead of a stormy transition zone and two teams, Amaala and Canada Ocean Racing, trapped far behind
  • A momentary overtake from Holcim-PRB off of Sicily reshuffled the fleet order
  • Tactical gambles from Allagrande and Paprec Arkèa failed to pay off
  • Biotherm was first into Boka Bay, followed by Holcim-PRB
  • The Coastal Race in Boka Bay brought a fresh wave of excitement and gave teams a last-minute chance to rack up points before the race’s end

The Ocean Race Europe Stops in Genoa

The Ocean Race Europe fleet stopped in Genoa’s Porto Antico after an exciting finish to Leg 4, which saw leg winners Allagrande Mapei snatch first place after pulling ahead of Paprec Arkèa.

Allagrande and Genoa’s home-grown skipper Ambrogio Beccaria were greeted by an outpouring of local support, with fans, family, and media alike flocking to the race village for photos, pit lane tours, and speed tests in the Golfo Paradiso.

The stopover was also a launch pad for another Italian sailor’s upcoming endeavours.

Double olympian and Women’s America’s Cup sailor Francesca Clapcich, who also won the 2022-23 Ocean Race with 11th Hour Racing, supported her bid for the 2028 Vendée Globe with a presentation at the local maritime museum. Following the Ocean Race Europe, she will take over Malizia from current skipper Boris Hermann.

Over four days, talks, screenings, and workshops from local activists, sponsors, and grassroots environmental groups highlighted the Ocean Race Europe’s guiding theme of sustainability. With both sailors and race officials advocating for ocean health in real time, and teams gathering valuable water samples offshore, the commitment to Racing for the Ocean was clear.

In a panel discussion following a special showing of David Attenborough’s Oceans, Holcim-PRB’s on board report Georgia Schofield stressed,

“We cannot keep sailing, keep enjoying the sea, without protecting our playground.”

Head to our socials for a behind-the-scenes look at the events and the action, including an exclusive cockpit tour with Team Malizia!

Departure from Genoa for the end of the Ocean Race Europe

After the Genoa stopover, the Ocean Race Europe’s fleet of IMOCAs set off again for the race’s final leg, a 1,600 nm passage to Boka Bay, Montenegro that would take them down the volatile western side of Corsica and Sardinia, south of Sicily, and into the Adriatic Sea.

“It’s a long zig-zag of eight or nine days through the Med with a lot of curves and local effects and local winds – not a huge wind field but little patches here and there,” Boris Hermann explained.

Leg 4 winner Ambrogio Beccaria’s Allagrande Mapei Racing made an early running start off the coast of Ligury, but the whole fleet was soon subdued by breezes barely scraping five knots. They inched along at three to four knots of speed throughout the night. Not quite a nail-biter!

Thunder, lightning, and broaches (oh my!)

After a quiet start, the front of the fleet hit a low pressure weather system packing winds over 30 knots that sent them tearing downwind.

‘We were going so fast that we caught up to the thunderstorm and the clouds,’ said Yoann Richomme of Paprec Arkea.

Reports of broaching, loss of control, and footage of crew members getting jostled about abounded.

An involuntary gybe on Paprec Arkea caused damage to a headsail sheet, as well as ripping the radar unit off its bracket on the front of the mast, while Holcim-PRB ended up on its side.

The fleet was segmented by a thunderstorm line delineating two different weather regions.

Ahead of it, the first four boats in the fleet powered along in 30 knots of northwest wind.

Behind, cut off from the fresh downwind breeze, Holcim-PRB, Canada Ocean Racing, and Team Amaala were left chasing the fleet at half speed in just 12 knots of southeast.

An exciting overnight speed test saw Paprec and Allagrande fighting neck-and-neck in an exciting drag race.

“Both boats were doing 35 knots with maybe 100-metres of distance between us,” said Allagrande skipper Ambrogio Beccaria. “It was quite scary, unreal – one of the best sailing moments of my life for sure.”

Unstable conditions, thunderstorms aplenty, and frequent wind turns saw a reshuffling of the Leg 5 leaderboard as the Ocean Race Europe fleet came up on Sicily.

“You always need to be careful in these conditions – always one hand for the boat and the other for whatever it is you are doing,” warned Francesca Clapcich.

Holcim-PRB makes a comeback off Sicily

As they hit lighter winds under Sicily, Holcim-PRB made straight for the waypoint instead of tacking to the North like Allagrande, Biotherm, Malizia, and Paprec.

Skipper Rosalin Kuiper’s gamble quickly paid off– Holcim-PRB jumped from fifth to first place.

Biotherm retakes the lead towards Boka Bay

After rounding the final ‘India’ waypoint, the leading pack rearranged once again.

With Biotherm again in the lead, followed by Allagrande Mapei, Malizia, Paprec, and Team Holcim-PRB, the compressed fleet proceeded North upwind.

“These are good Biotherm conditions – flat water, medium wind – it’s perfect,” said Meilhat. “We have a lot of upwind now as we head to the North.”

Beccaria said he hoped instead for downwind conditions, hoping to pass closer to Italian shores. Allagrande eventually broke away from the rest of the front of the pack in search of more favourable conditions, but the gamble dropped them from third to fifth when the expected wind proved elusive.

Meanwhile, Canada Ocean Racing and Team Amaala crawled on at the back of the fleet.

To facilitate stopover activities in Boka Bay (and the expected Coastal Race), the Race Committee offered an alternative waypoint to give the two teams the option of shortening the race course, which meant the fleet trailers would trade an earlier arrival for the possibility of placing higher than sixth for the leg.

The Ocean Race Europe sails into the Adriatic sea

As the fleet entered the Adriatic, Biotherm was still at the front and covering their closest rivals tack for tack.

Paprec Arkèa gambled on an eastern route along the Albanian coastline with little success.

Not far behind, Holcim-PRB and Malizia jostled in an upwind match race, with sailors on both boats keeping a close eye on each other’s sail choice, boat speed, and angle.

While touring the boats during the stopover in Genoa, we learned that some teams like to keep their tricks up their sleeve, even changing or disguising their sail bags to keep their tactical choices a secret until the last moment!

The conditions required teams to stay on high alert to not lose their ground.

“You would think these are pretty steady, similar conditions, but it is not easy,” explained Holcim-PRB sailor Carolijn Brouwer. “The wind is up and down between nine and 12 knots. When we are sailing upwind when we get to 12 knots we are at the upper range of the big sail we have on – the J0. The wind is incredibly shifty – 20 to 25 degrees sometimes.

You really need to be precise and on top of it all the time, to react to the differences in pressure and the shifts in the breeze. That requires a fair bit of concentration and you have to be paying attention all the time.”

Biotherm wins final leg of the Ocean Race Europe

It hardly came as a surprise when Biotherm was first into Boka Bay, having completed the 1,600 nm leg in seven days, eight hours, 33 minutes, and 13 seconds.

Rosalin Kuiper’s Team Holcim-PRB took second place for Leg 5 after staging an impressive comeback to rejoin the leading pack. Third was Boris Herrmann’s Team Malizia; failed tactical experiments from Ambrogio Beccaria’s Allagrande Mapei and Yoann Richomme’s Paprec Arkea left them in fourth and fifth.

“It didn’t pay off,” Richomme commented. ‘But that’s racing sometimes.”

Nonetheless, Beccaria seemed satisfied with the sheer range of conditions teams faced during the Ocean Race Europe Leg 5.

“Leg 5 for us was a real Odyssey, a huge race where a lot of things happened. We had a lot of light wind and strong wind. All the way down to Corsica and Sardinia we had a lot of wind. On the way to Ustica we had a huge amount of wind and a super flat sea, so we were at 35 knots of steady boatspeed – it was unreal,” he commented.

The Ocean Race Europe’s Coastal Race in Boka Bay

A Coastal Race upon the fleet’s arrival in Boka Bay closed out the racing events and gave teams a chance to grab last-minute points for their overall ranking.

The results of the Coastal Race pretty closely matched the overall leaderboard, with the only difference being team Allagrande Mapei edging out team Be Water Positive overall thanks to their Leg 4 win.

Even in close quarters, Biotherm once again came first, followed by Paprec Arkea, Holcim-PRB, and Team Malizia.

The Boka Bay Coastal Race results:

1. Biotherm
2. Paprec Arkéa
3. Team Holcim PRB
4. Team Malizia
5. Be Water Positive
6. Allagrande Mapei Racing
7. Team Amaala

What’s next for the Ocean Race?

While the teams rest, reshuffle, and recover after their 7-week sprint around Europe, the Ocean Race events group is busy planning the upcoming calendar.

In November, The Ocean Race Summit Youth in Genova will explore how sport can be a platform for environmental change, and a tool to help build a more sustainable future for our world’s oceans.

In 2026, the first Ocean Race Atlantic will connect New York and Barcelona with a 3,200 nautical mile sprint. It will be the first point-to-point race in the 50-plus year history of The Ocean Race. Like the Ocean Race Europe, the event will feature mixed crews, though this time with a industry-first 50-50 gender split, as well as a focus on ocean conservation advocacy.

In 2027, the 15th edition of the iconic round-the-world Ocean Race will set off from Alicante, Spain.

“The Ocean Race is always on,” says Race Chairman of The Ocean Race Richard Brisius. “Our drive to protect and restore ocean health is a daily mission […] These events serve as inspirational touch points on the journey where we all get together with renewed focus and determination as we connect with the ocean.”

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If you enjoyed this article on the Ocean Race Europe 2025…

Yachting World is the world’s leading magazine for bluewater cruisers and offshore sailors. Every month we have inspirational adventures and practical features to help you realise your sailing dreams.

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Note: We may earn a commission when you buy through links on our site, at no extra cost to you. This doesn’t affect our editorial independence.