Sailing wasn’t part of the plan.

I was born in Paris, grew up in central Virginia, studied Economics at the University of Virginia, and later worked in tech in New York.

Then in 2020, I volunteered at a sailing school in the Florida Keys. I learned my first tacks, lived aboard one of their boats, and slowly found my rhythm on the water. I was hooked.

The more time I spent sailing, the farther I wanted to go. There was a pull toward the open ocean that I couldn’t ignore.

That curiosity eventually turned into a goal: the Mini Transat — a solo, transatlantic race sailed on a 6.50-meter boat.

Pursuing it meant moving to France, buying an old boat, and racing a full season to qualify. The final step was a 1,000-nautical-mile solo, nonstop qualifier. After nine days at sea, just as the finish line was in sight, a breaking wave pushed the boat out of the channel and onto the rocks.

Within minutes, the boat was lost. I swam to shore as it was being pounded by waves — and with it, my dream seemed to sink too.

I had invested everything — time, energy, savings — and suddenly there was nothing tangible left. But one thing was clear: it wasn’t over.

I leaned on the people around me — the ones who believed when even I doubted myself.

A new campaign for the Mini Transat 2025 took shape. What made the difference were the people who showed up: friends who stayed late in the boatyard, family who encouraged patience, partners who kept believing. A new boat. Another season of racing. Another qualification. This time with a deeper understanding of what it takes — and the quiet confidence that comes from having already rebuilt once.

And something shifted.

I realized not only that I could finish races — but that I could race.

The intensity of being in the game, sailing neck-and-neck with competitors. Weighing options. Taking calculated risks. Changing sails in the middle of the night just a little faster than the boats around you — watching minutes turn into miles.

In a demanding 500-nautical-mile solo race in the English Channel, I finished second.

In 2025, I completed the Mini Transat, crossing the Atlantic solo.

After the finish, I crossed the Atlantic back to Europe on a Class40. It was a revelation: a more powerful boat, with access to detailed weather data and routing tools. Instead of simply enduring the conditions, we could analyze them — studying depressions, timing transitions, zig-zagging our way across weather systems.

That experience made the next step clear: Class40.

A faster boat. A higher level of competition. And the opportunity to keep pushing — technically, strategically, and together.

What began as curiosity has become a long-term pursuit of pushing the limit, shaped by commitment, collective effort, and the joy of getting better alongside others.

This next chapter builds on all of it — on the water, and together.