When this conversation with Mara was recorded, she was in the final stages of her first solo Atlantic crossing, fully absorbed in the rhythms of offshore life, the routines that steady the days, the doubts that surface in solitude, and the moments of clarity that only long periods at sea can bring.

Now, with the passage complete, that crossing stands as far more than a personal milestone. It has secured her qualification for the Golden Globe Race, making Mara the only female sailor currently qualified for the next edition of the race.

Read in that context, these reflections take on a different weight. Her thoughts on fear, isolation, and the question of whether she truly wanted to commit to one of sailing’s most exacting challenges capture a sailor in the final phase of deciding something significant, even if the outcome was not yet fully realised.

We spoke with Mara about the mindset, rituals, and defining moments from the crossing that would go on to shape her route to the Golden Globe Race.

What inspired you to take on the challenge of qualifying for the Golden Globe Race? Was there a defining moment that planted the idea?

After my dream project, Sailing Rippleffect, came to an end, I realised I wasn’t quite ready to return to life on land. It felt like there was still more sailing left in me.

But if I was going to continue, it had to be something that truly challenged me, something that would force me to grow in a different way.

At some point, the idea of the Golden Globe Race entered my mind, and once it was there, I simply couldn’t shake it. The more I thought about it, the more it began to feel like the ultimate sailing challenge.

I’m not really a racer by nature, so traditional racing has never appealed to me in the same way. What drew me to this was that it feels less like a race and more like a personal adventure. It’s about pushing your own limits, facing the ocean with very few modern tools, and staying true to the essence of sailing.

How does it feel knowing this crossing is part of the path towards one of sailing’s most iconic races?

At times, it has felt a little strange.

Part of me kept asking, Can I actually do this? But another part was asking something just as important: Do I actually want to do it?

This crossing itself has felt incredible from the beginning. Being out here has reminded me how deeply I love sailing, and how much this life still feels like home.

At the same time, it has forced me to think seriously about what the Golden Globe Race really means. When you imagine being alone at sea for that long, it can sometimes feel almost surreal, even slightly pointless.

But after settling into life on board, something shifted. I realised I do want to do it. Being out here made that truth feel much clearer.

What has been the biggest challenge of the journey so far?

Without question, the biggest challenge has been the mental side of being alone.

There have been the usual small technical issues with the boat, things that need fixing, adjusting, staying ahead of, but that’s simply part of sailing.

The real challenge has been accepting the idea of being at sea for such a long time, and learning to feel comfortable within that reality.

Interestingly, one of the hardest moments came before the crossing had even started.

This is my first solo sail ever, and when everything was finally ready, I suddenly found myself looking for excuses not to leave. I had waited so long for that moment, but when it finally arrived, I realised I was afraid of taking that first step.

The second I left the harbour, though, that feeling disappeared. It immediately felt right, and I knew I could do it.

Was there a moment that really tested you mentally or physically?

There was one night when the wind completely disappeared, but the swell was still running.

I was already extremely tired, and because of the conditions I had to sit outside and hand-steer for hours in the middle of the night.

Physically it was exhausting, but mentally it was even tougher.

That’s when doubts can creep in. When I’m tired, negative thoughts find their way in much more easily.

Sitting there in the dark, steering for hours while completely exhausted, was definitely one of the tougher moments of the crossing.

What has been your favourite moment so far?

It’s hard not to mention the marine life.

One day, we had three Fin whale swimming beside the boat for about half an hour, with dolphins playing around the bow at the same time. It was an incredible experience, one of those moments that makes the whole ocean feel alive around you.

Another special moment came as I rounded Cape Verde and turned west.

Something shifted mentally. I suddenly accepted that this was my world now, and that I needed to live it fully rather than waiting for something to happen.

That change made everything feel much lighter afterwards.

Ocean crossings can be physically and mentally demanding. How do you stay focused and positive during the long stretches alone?

Routine has been everything.

Working out every day makes a huge difference for both my body and my mind. Eating well helps keep my energy stable too.

I also try to learn something new every day. That helps me feel like I’m growing rather than simply drifting across the ocean.

Those small daily habits create structure, and structure creates calm.

Is there anything about life offshore that people on land might not fully appreciate?

One of the biggest things is the ability to disconnect.

Out here, you live in your own small world, and everything happening on land feels incredibly far away. That distance creates a kind of mental space that feels deeply peaceful.

Life also becomes beautifully simple.

Every sunset, I do a small gratitude exercise and remind myself what I’m grateful for that day. I think people on land often forget to do that because life moves so quickly.

Out here, I keep reminding myself: I don’t have to do this. I get to do this.

That’s a pretty incredible feeling.

How have the conditions been on this passage?

Overall, they’ve been kind.

For a while I had strong winds and sailed triple-reefed for about a week, but the breeze stayed behind me so it worked well.

At the beginning, I also had three days with almost no wind at all, where I was basically standing still. I just pretended I was at anchor and enjoyed the quiet.

Generally, though, the passage has treated me well.

How would you describe this journey in three words?

Cocoon of happiness.

I’m live-streaming this entire crossing, and the people following along have created the most incredible community.

In the chat, we’ve built this small space where people come to disconnect from the outside world and simply enjoy the journey together.

It has become this little cocoon of happiness, and that has been one of the most beautiful parts of the experience.

What do you miss most from land?

The freedom to move.

I work out every day on the boat, but it’s not the same as being able to walk for hours, go for a hike, or simply wander.

That kind of movement is what I miss most.

And when I reach land?

I think the first thing I’ll do is go for a hike.

And then I’ll definitely eat a gelato.

Those two things sound pretty perfect right now.