A Voyage Through the Caribbean, the Pacific, and Beyond
In Julie’s own words, continuing the story of her family’s voyage aboard their Balance 482, Matsu.
For those who followed our adventures in the last post, we left off in Saint Vincent, a land of dominant corsairs overlooking the Caribbean Sea. We continued our descent along the Caribbean, a stage for centuries of French, English, Spanish, and Dutch ambitions. A playground that truly delighted us, though we had no idea what was coming next. Behind us, the Lesser Antilles; ahead, a new adventure and that undiminished excitement of never truly knowing what awaits on the horizon.
La Blanquilla, Los Roques, and Las Aves
Then came La Blanquilla, Los Roques, and Las Aves, a string of islets resting on a sea of impossible blues, shades we thought were reserved for postcards, deserted beaches where our footprints were sometimes the only ones of the day. Los Roques is one of those places that makes us realize how incredibly lucky we are to be here with Matsu. Travelling by boat offers this rare privilege of reaching corners of the world where you feel like you’ve discovered a treasure.
Of course, life on a boat isn’t always rosy, the upkeep, the repairs, schooling on the go, but it’s these challenges that make us appreciate all the more those moments of grace the sea offers us.
And the magic of life at sea isn’t only in the scenery. It lives above all in the encounters: with locals, but also with extraordinary people who, through shared anchorages, passages sailed together, and sundowners, become far more than friends. A true family, the ones with whom you celebrate arrivals, share sunsets, and weather the small hardships as much as the great moments of joy.
Through the ABCs, Colombia, and the Panama Canal
Together, we continued toward the ABC islands, Bonaire, Curaçao, Aruba, then Colombia, a land of colour and music, and Panama, that mythical place that opens the door to a new ocean with its famous canal, guiding ships from one world to another.
For us, that 14th of February, exactly two years to the day since Matsu was launched, was a defining moment of our journey, filled with excitement, fear, and doubt, but above all with immense joy. Alongside the best of crews, our friends aboard the Balance 442, Harris, we discovered the Pacific Ocean.
Crossing the Pacific
That same ocean gave us an adventure whose full significance is hard to grasp even now: 19 days crossing the vastness of the Pacific, 3,165 nautical miles sailed from the Galápagos, carried by the wind and a wonderful crew. I am deeply proud of each one of us, of our ability to adapt, to hold the pace, to move forward together.
There were starlit nights, the kind that make your head spin with their beauty and remind you just how small we are. There was that infinity of blues, sometimes gentle, sometimes wild. Because the Pacific wasn’t always so peaceful: we sailed through storms, tore our spinnaker, and learned to roll with the ocean’s whims.
As the days passed, the nature of time itself changed. It stretched out. Far from the usual urgencies, we entered a kind of contemplative state. And yet life carried on: nights broken up by watches, the children’s schooling, meals marking the rhythm of the days, drawings, tinkering, art projects, conversations, games.
At sea, time is both incredibly long and surprisingly short. Each day seems to hold several lifetimes, and yet the weeks fly by.
Landfall in the Marquesas
Then one morning, land appeared. Fatu Hiva, immense cliffs rising from the ocean as though the mountain plunged straight into the blue. Jagged, spectacular, almost unreal coastlines, after so many days with nothing on the horizon but a straight line between sky and sea.
And then that sensation that can never quite be put into words: the smell of land.
We had crossed the Pacific. And what immense joy it was to set our eyes on the Marquesas and feel, deep within us, that this adventure would be etched in us forever.
French Polynesia, and What Comes Next
Today, we’re soaking up the gentleness and beauty of French Polynesia, places that cradle the most beautiful dreams. And this chapter is a special one for us: as our children grow, their needs are changing, and our return to life on land is taking shape. Matsu is therefore for sale.
It’s a deeply strange feeling, filled with immense pride at having sailed such an incredible boat, profound gratitude at having been part of the Balance family, immense joy at having shared so many priceless moments with our children, and a deep sadness at having to leave her. Because for two and a half years, she was never just a boat. She was our home, our anchor, our shelter, our entire world.
We still have miles to sail together, the Cooks, Tonga, Fiji, maybe New Zealand, and we intend to make every one of them count. Somewhere along that route, Matsu will find the crew she deserves.
