Today, we set sail for our crossing to Sicily. As I write this, we are in the middle of the sea just us, the wind, and the open horizon. And I can’t help but think back to this exact day, seven years ago, when we also found ourselves out on the water, in the middle of the sea.

I remember it so clearly: we were sailing west of Kefalonia when Edwin, unusually, was reluctant to hoist the sails. I didn’t understand why. And then, just like that, out of the genoa emerged a beautiful flag, one I hadn’t seen before. He’d hidden it there with help from our friends. And in that quiet moment, surrounded by sea, the sky, the water and this huge flag, he asked me to marry him.

It was magical. Of course, I said yes, I was the happiest woman alive. We hadn’t been thinking about marriage at all, not really. But to do it like that, in that place, felt so uniquely “us”. Looking back now, I realise just how pivotal that moment was in the journey we’re still making together today.

It wasn’t just the proposal. It was what it represented. It was a turning point, one that made it clear, in the deepest way, how much sailing and life aboard mattered to us. For me, that dream had already taken root years before, growing stronger with time.

Back then, we were sailing with friends under the flag of “Friends & Sailing”, a great excuse to get out on the water and let ourselves imagine what a life at sea might look like. We were still dreaming it into being.

And now? Now we are living that dream, the three of us. That was another deep wish, perhaps the biggest of all. To sail, not just as two, but as three.

And here we are. So many years later. Together on board, making our way — once again — towards Kefalonia, but this time with our own Simon Hendrick.

How full circle life can be?

Of course, not everything was quite so romantic. The flag, as it turned out, had been stuffed so thoroughly into the genoa that it pulled the halyard loose. So when we finally dropped anchor — hearts full, champagne ready — Edwin looked at me, not with a glass in hand, but with that familiar “guess who is going up” face. Next thing I knew, I was being hoisted up the mast. Some things, it seems, never change.

Written by: Mirjam