A Life Spent Sailing: Aylin Tüfekçi’s Round the World Journey Continues

Could you briefly introduce yourself? When and how did your connection with sailing begin? What was the turning point that shaped your life as it is today?

Hello, I’m Aylin. Together with my husband Cem, our daughter Defne, our son Uğur Atlas, and our cat Pati, we have been continuing our Mavi Serüven (The Blue Adventure) since June 2023.

As Halikarnas Balıkçısı (The Fisherman of Halicarnassus) once wrote, “Some people live on land without ever realizing they are, in fact, sea people.” That was us.

Quite by coincidence, during the pandemic we were looking for a small boat just to go fishing. While watching YouTube videos, we discovered that it was actually possible to live at sea. Until then, our only experience with the sea was hopping into a dinghy to catch a few horse mackerel.

We found a small sailboat in Kuşadası. The moment we went to see her, I somehow knew that our family was about to begin an entirely new chapter with this little boat. Her name was Come Back. Every time we had to return home, it felt as if she was calling out to us: “Come back to the sea.”

She was a 30-foot, single-cabin sailboat. With our family - my husband, our children, our cat Pati, and even our budgerigar Bıcır-we spent five months sailing from Kuşadası to Finike, exploring every possible bay along the way.

That was when the foundation of our current life was laid. By the end of the season, we sold the boat with the intention of getting a bigger one. But Come Back had already become part of us. We wanted to return to the sea as soon as possible. I found myself dreaming about sailing and fishing almost every night.

We made the decision to close our home and live at sea. The true turning point that shaped our lives was the moment we chose life on the water.

Is The Blue Adventure merely a route, or a consciously chosen philosophy of life?

Mavi Serüven is definitely more than just a route. It’s a way of life - one where we replace the suffocating feeling of life on land with maximum freedom under minimal conditions. It’s a floating, travelling home where we discover new places, meet new people, experience different cultures, and live in harmony with nature.

Leaving a settled life on land to live full-time at sea requires great courage. What was the most challenging part of making this decision?

For us, this decision felt exactly like falling in love.

You meet someone, lock eyes, and suddenly think, “This is the love of my life.” You leave your parents’ home and step into the unknown, even though there’s a comfortable, familiar life behind you. Your heart races, you’re chasing happiness, and despite all the uncertainty, you say “yes” to a new life.

Of course, thoughts about the children, leaving comfort behind, and facing uncertainty crossed my mind. But the heaviness and suffocation of life on land felt far more unbearable.

When Cem and I made the decision, there was fear - but excitement outweighed it. Maybe that’s what courage really is: falling in love with the blue and setting sail into unknown waters.

You are currently sailing around the world. Was there a moment when you said, “There is no going back now”? What emotions dominated at that time?

It wasn’t a single moment, but a series of moments when we realized there was no returning to our old life.

It began the day we handed over the keys to our house in Alanya and moved into Finike Marina.

It continued as Turkey’s silhouette disappeared over the horizon and I quietly whispered, “Farewell.”

Then came wintering in Tunisia.

Preparing for the Atlantic in Tangier, Morocco.

Our first passage into the Atlantic through the Strait of Gibraltar.

And then came the difficult moments.

While sailing to Cape Verde, our forestay broke and the genoa fell into the sea. We managed to secure it and still entered the harbour safely.

Earlier, during our passage to the Canary Islands, a ruptured fuel hose left us drifting for hours without wind, forcing us to divert to Rabat.

After replacing the forestay and being told the rig was “solid,” the port-side shroud failed halfway across the Atlantic—on day ten. We had to continue under engine alone. When fuel ran low, Captains Harun and Murat from Haylaz kindly supplied us with fuel by transferring jerry cans between the boats with ropes in massive waves.

When the autopilot failed, we stood watch in four-hour shifts, tying ourselves to the helm and sleeping only in short intervals.

There was fear, exhaustion, and anxiety - but above all, there was pride. Pride in having endured it all together.

There is no home to return to now, because this is our home. This is our life.

Which stage of your world journey are you currently on? How does this leg compare to your previous routes in terms of conditions, ports, and experiences?

We are currently in the Caribbean and have returned to Martinique.

Our Mavi Serüven (The Blue Adventure) began in Finike and continued through the Greek Islands, mainland Greece, the Corinth Canal, mainland Italy, Sicily, Tunisia, Sardinia, the Balearic Islands (Mallorca, Menorca, Ibiza), Spain, Morocco, the Strait of Gibraltar, the Atlantic Ocean, the Canary Islands, Cape Verde, an Atlantic crossing, Barbados, Martinique, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, and Grenada.

During hurricane season, we hauled the boat out in Trinidad for maintenance. Now we are heading north again, back to Martinique.

In short, we’ve completed three major phases so far: Mediterranean → Atlantic Ocean → Caribbean Sea

The Mediterranean felt familiar and safe. Once we passed Gibraltar and entered the Atlantic, things became serious: massive waves, sudden weather changes, and vast distances where hours turned into days.

But we sail as a family, sharing night watches. Defne has become highly skilled in navigation and passage planning, while Uğur has mastered navigation, diving, fishing, and boat repairs.

Your cat, Pati, accompanies you on this journey. How has she adapted to long passages and ocean crossings? How does her presence affect life aboard?

Pati is our tiny captain - the sweetest, fluffiest member of the crew. We often imagine her thinking, “They lost the house… I still haven’t figured out where it is.”

Whenever we dock, she’s the first to jump ashore, sniffing around as if asking, “Is this our home too?”

She’s basically a dog in a cat’s body - always guarding the cockpit and keeping watch.

She doesn’t like the sound of the engine, but she never complains. She simply curls up in her wicker basket and sleeps through most passages.

She’s become a true sea cat.

I think she now believes that as long as we’re together, everywhere is home.

Among your previous routes in the Greek Islands and along the Italian coast, which harbour or moment affected you the most? Why?

There are many, but some moments are truly unforgettable.

Crossing the Corinth Canal in Greece was one of them. Gliding between those towering walls felt like entering the heart of the sea. Cameras were clicking all around us, and I remember standing at the helm thinking, “We’re really here. This feels unreal.”

Another unforgettable memory was in Corfu. We docked at a yacht club marina, and the only route to town passed through a castle and museum. When we returned late that evening, the gates had already been locked. We simply gave them the name of our boat - and the enormous gates of a castle once built for the Turks opened just for us.

Approaching Catania in Sicily with Mount Etna towering above us was equally unforgettable. Smoke drifted into the clear sky while the smell of sulphur filled the air. It was both terrifying and mesmerising.

And yes - the pizza, gelato, and pasta were unforgettable too.

As a female sailor, have you encountered prejudice in the maritime world? How did you overcome it?

Absolutely - from the very beginning.

When we first moved into the marina, I was simply “the wife.” That label bothered me so much that I created my social media account under the name kaptannaylinn, purely as a statement.

At an event in Kaş Marina, someone introduced us by saying, “They’ve started a world tour.” Later, thinking we couldn’t hear over the music, they added, “They’ll turn back after the first wave.”

I heard every word. I smiled - but inside I thought, “We’ll see.” There were endless questions. “Can you really steer?” “What will you do in a storm?”

I tied every knot myself. I learned every repair. I learned gelcoat and fibreglass work. I stood watch during ocean crossings.

We didn’t turn back when the seas turned rough - we became stronger.

Now people say, “Wow, she really is a captain.”

And I simply smile.

Those who said we’d turn back after the first wave? I have no idea where they are—but we’re still sailing.

Most importantly, I want my children - especially my daughter - to see that a woman can do anything if she dreams, truly wants it, works hard, and never gives up.

What motivates you to share your journey on social media and YouTube? Is it documentation, inspiration, or both?

Both - but it started as documentation.

At first, I saw my posts simply as an archive of memories. I wanted to remember the Come Back days, our family’s first laughs at sea, our first dolphins, our first fish, and the joy of hopping from one bay to another.

Then I realised our story was touching other people too.

Years ago, I found courage through a YouTube channel called Overcome Your Fear, Live Your Dream. It showed me that this kind of life was actually possible.

Now I want others to see our real story and believe that it’s achievable.

If even one person, feeling trapped by life on land, watches our journey and thinks, “Maybe I can do this too,” then sharing it has been worthwhile.

Producing YouTube videos takes a great deal of time, so I’ve taken a step back for now. Instagram allows me to share moments instantly, and at this stage of our journey, that feels just right.

Mental resilience is just as important as technical knowledge on long voyages. How do you maintain that balance?

There are certainly times when motivation fades. The waves are relentless, fatigue builds up, and long passages can feel endless.

But my greatest source of strength is my family.

Small daily rituals keep me grounded: drinking coffee in the cockpit while watching the sea, listening to Pati purr, cooking with Defne, fishing and laughing with Uğur, or simply exchanging a smile with Cem that says, “We’re really doing this.”

A sunset. A shared laugh. A simple moment of gratitude.

Whenever things become difficult, I remind myself, “This will pass - and we’ll get through it together.”

Mental strength is built as much through emotional connection as technical skill.

We replenish one another.

After all, we’re living a shared dream.

Life at sea is romantic, but also challenging. What are the lesser-known realities people should be aware of?

Life at sea certainly has its romantic side—sunsets, turquoise waters, fishing, diving, and an incredible sense of freedom.

But everyday life aboard is much tougher than most people imagine.

Fresh water is limited. After a while, you realise what a luxury a hot shower really is.

Laundry and dishes are washed by hand.

Health concerns can be frightening because the nearest doctor may be hundreds of miles away.

Everything is damp.Electronics fail.Mould appears.Cleaning never ends.You fix one problem, and another immediately takes its place.Sleep comes in short fragments.Night watches never stop. And somehow, dinghies and outboard engines always seem determined to fail at exactly the wrong moment.

These are the parts that rarely appear in romantic photographs - but they are very much part of life at sea.

Where does your compass point in the coming years? New routes, new projects, or deeper calm?

I’d like to inspire others - to let them know, “You can do this too.”

Perhaps I’ll share even more of our journey in the future, but we’re in no rush. We simply go wherever the wind takes us.

At the moment, we’re in Le Marin, Martinique, preparing to head north towards the Bahamas, then west to Cuba and Mexico.

Our plan is to spend the next hurricane season in Guatemala. The excitement we felt on the day we left Turkey is still alive. Our compass points toward freedom.

The rest will come with the wind.

Thank you for sharing your inspiring journey with such honesty and generosity. Your courage, dedication, and deep connection to the sea turn ‘Mavi Serüven’ into more than a voyage — it becomes a way of life that inspires others to dream and dare. Fair winds, and may your compass always point to freedom.

Reportage: Banu Demir / The Sailor’s Newspaper

Photograps: Aylin Tüfekçi Archive

Prepared for Publication: Doruk Agency / Founded by Sailor's Newspaper