From the mountains of Argentina to the open waters of the Mediterranean and beyond, this is the story of a sailor whose journey is measured not just in miles, but in moments of courage, discovery, and connection. Through wind, waves, and the lens of his camera, he shares a life built step by step, always Toujours Ensemble.
SUMMARY
- A personal odyssey
- Stripping Away the Masks
- Sailing and Photography
- Toujours Ensemble
A personal odyssey
As a child, my world ended at a wall of mountains; a horizon that didn’t exist horizontally. I grew up in Salta, Argentina, where peaks rise like giants and nature constantly reminds you that you are not the centre of anything. There, without realising it, I learned to respect forces that cannot be negotiated—forces I would later learn to live in harmony with. The sea, at that time, did not really exist for me.
Like so many others during Argentina’s 2001 crisis, I left my country at a young age, carried along by my parents. It was neither heroic nor romantic. Leaving meant having a chance at a future. I can never thank my parents enough for the courage it took to leave everything behind and cross the ocean with more questions than answers, in a time before instant access to information. Today, we know it was the right decision.
Spain was our first stop. Near Valencia, my romance with the sea quietly began—not the wild ocean of books, but a close, luminous, almost gentle Mediterranean. Love at first sight. The idea of sailing appeared like a sweet whisper: beautiful, fragile, tucked away in a mental drawer. I kept it there, of course, to avoid taking it too seriously.
It wasn’t until a few years later that my life shifted again. I let go of comfort and stepped into the unknown, in Paris this time. A new country, no plan, no language, no cultural references other than a steel giant with a light on top. Those years were full of mistakes, lessons, and growth. And there was an additional surprise that would become the turning point of my life: Margareth, now my wife.
Looking for neutral ground for a mixed couple—Brazilian and Argentinian, a diplomatic challenge in itself—we ended up in London. No flags, no football anthems, no endless debates over whose music is better. Just grey skies, orderly queues, and a beautiful, vibrant city too busy to notice where you came from.
Those years taught us a lesson similar to life at sea: plans are useful, but they do not always survive first contact with reality.Margareth brought something unknown to me until then and crucial for the decisions that would follow:
the confidence to break the ingrained structures of our modern society and imagine a life that didn’t revolve around calendars and office walls.
With her unwavering support, becoming a professional sailor suddenly felt like the obvious next step—and, as it turns out, the UK was the perfect place for that.
Stripping Away the Masks
Somehow, I have always been drawn to places where you cannot pretend. The mountains taught me that. I came to understand the sea in the same way:
spaces where adapting is the only option—and to adapt, you must meet yourself with complete honesty. Over time, I realised this attraction was like a quiet compass, guiding my steps even when I didn’t yet understand where it pointed.
The sea has a way of putting life into perspective. On a long voyage, nothing is superfluous—not even noise. Time stretches. Thoughts quieten. You begin to truly listen to yourself. Every night on watch, every mechanical failure, every sunrise in the middle of the ocean leaves a mark. The ocean is patient, but it is exacting; it does not forgive half-measures or pretence.
And so, one day, an ocean lay behind me… and then another… until professional ocean sailing became, in a sense, the pinnacle of that journey. Yet reaching that point was never a single, final goal. It was countless small decisions, made one mile at a time.
Sailing and Photography
It’s no surprise that my romance with photography began in France, a country of immeasurable charm in every corner. I tried, in some way, to capture a beauty that was never enough for me to simply admire. Later, during my sociology studies, photography became a tool of analysis, reshaping the way I saw and understood the world. From a technical perspective, sailing and photography share the same logic. Both demand constant observation, anticipation, and decisions based on ever-changing variables.
The sailor reads the wind, the clouds, and the sea to adjust course and sails; the photographer reads light, framing, and timing before pressing the shutter. In both, technique is a language that allows dialogue with nature—but never control. Acting too quickly is often a mistake.
At first, everything is conscious, almost rigid. With practice, gestures become natural, and technique fades into the background. Magic happens when you see the image before pressing the shutter, just as you feel the wind before it changes. That is where the two worlds meet.
Over time, photography became a silent companion on my voyages. It taught me to observe without judgment, to find meaning in the everyday details—especially at sea, where nothing can be forced. Light arrives in its own time. Moments last only as long as they last.
No scene ever repeats. In this context, photographing is less about imposing an idea and more about learning to wait, to remain attentive, and to accept with resilience and humility. In many ways, it taught me the same lesson the sea has: patience, attentiveness, and the quiet power of being present.
Toujours Ensemble "A Love Story and a Boat"
The greatest adventure of my life so far? It wasn’t in sailing to remote destinations like the Pacific Islands, or in crossing the Indian Ocean in a single stretch. I found it in meeting my wife. I know—I can see your eyes rolling heavenward—but I promise I won’t flood you with sweetness… though a tiny wave snuck in anyway. Simple and cliché as it sounds, it is a deep certainty. We work as a team. She imagines, pushes, shapes. I execute, monitor, materialise. Together, we balance each other: sometimes one of us leads, sometimes the other, but the direction is always shared. Important decisions have never been individual—they have always been made together, whether sketched on napkins, debated over coffee on deck, or discussed long into the night under the stars.
Our first boat, Toujours Ensemble, began as one of her ideas: joyful, ambitious, full of excitement. The name itself is more than a label—it embodies our philosophy, a way of life. Life on the boat is intimate; a small space where everything is shared and nowhere to hide. At sea, there is no pretence. It reveals who we are, what we value, and teaches that a companion is chosen every day, not just once.
Life at sea has tested us and rewarded us in equal measure.
We have faced storms, mechanical failures, and navigational puzzles that would have undone less committed teams. And we have celebrated quiet sunrises, perfect sails, and the small victories that come from building a life together.
Each challenge and triumph has shaped not only our journey, but the way we understand partnership, trust, and freedom.This is no extraordinary tale. It is a life lived with intention. Unconventional by choice. Realised through years of hard work, shared decisions, constant learning, and a boat that became a home. Step by step. Toujours Ensemble.
Every sailor has a story, a first voyage, a favorite anchorage, a lesson learned under the stars. Share your experiences with the Navily community and inspire others to navigate, explore, and capture their own unforgettable moments at sea.
