TEM

Who: Pascaline and Arnaud
Where: Fiji, September 2026
Multihull: Outremer 55 TEM
Instagram: @letourdumondedetem
YouTube: Tem Toi et Moi
Polarsteps: Tem Toi et Moi

September 2025. We're taking the plunge. We're setting off for three years around the world, without really knowing what lies ahead. Were we ready? No idea. We simply wanted to do it. Thirty-five years of a life we loved, packed away in boxes. And off we go aboard our Outremer 55, TEM, with the GLYWO25 rally and around twenty other crews. Just one problem: I've never sailed before! My first steps into the world of sailing are difficult. Everything seems complicated, far too technical, with a vocabulary I can't understand. The sails, the maneuvers, the weather, the currents, the instruments… A world completely unfamiliar to me. Very quickly, I tell myself this isn't for me. Fortunately, a few women-only sailing sessions change my mind. I learn, I try again, I make mistakes too, but I gain confidence. Little by little, the maneuvers become less intimidating.

September 2026. Two oceans crossed, dozens of anchorages, magnificent scenery and extraordinary encounters. Here I am in a marina in Fiji, surrounded by the crews with whom I've shared this first year. And, quite incredibly, I'm now discussing wind direction, sails, sailing strategy and even technical problems with them. I'm beginning to understand our catamaran. Maneuvers feel more natural, the sails less mysterious. I'm getting better at recognizing how the boat reacts and sometimes even managing to anticipate its movements. Well, I'm not quite the catamaran whisperer yet, but I'm making progress! I've also had to learn to live with the weather. Rain or sunshine, wind or dead calm, smooth or rough seas, day and night… We adapt. Well, we try. I've often wondered what I'm doing here. Dreaming of a great voyage from the comfort of your sofa is one thing. Finding yourself in the middle of the Atlantic or crossing the Pacific, which I now call the "not-so-terrific Pacific," is quite another. Night watches remain a challenge. I still haven't worked out how to enjoy being short of sleep. But the scenery and the people we meet more than make up for the difficulties. I've also discovered that on a boat, you can't always do what you want. You choose your destination, but not necessarily your arrival time. After thirty-five years of a life governed by appointments, you have to learn to wait, change your plans, sometimes give up a stopover… and wonder why you ever had this crazy idea of setting off. Fortunately, a beautiful sunset, a few dolphins playing around the bows or a particularly lovely anchorage can sometimes be enough to make you forget the difficult moments. Today, I still have a lot to learn. The numbers sometimes give me a hard time, certain maneuvers demand all my concentration, and I don't always feel reassured when conditions become more challenging. But I'm no longer simply the one who's along for the ride. I take part in maneuvers, I understand the decisions better and I give my opinion on navigation. Sometimes I even make certain decisions myself. I think back to the person I was when we set off, completely lost among all those lines and instruments. I would never have imagined finding myself a year later in Fiji, discussing weather and sail trim with the other crews.
And we still have another two years of sailing, discoveries, new anchorages… and certainly a few more moments when I'll wonder what I'm doing here. Deep down, I never expected to become a sailor. I simply wanted to travel. But to make this voyage, I had to learn how to sail. So when I still ask myself, "Why? What's the point?", I'm beginning to have an answer: because I feel alive.

TEM continues on her way. And so do I.