Reflecting on a crazy sailing season

For the past three years, I’ve had one driving focus, to compete in one of the toughest offshore racing classes in the world. The French Figaro circuit. The goal to become the third Kiwi to take part in La Solitaire du Figaro, using it as a stepping stone toward one day racing around the globe like so many legendary alumni of the class. As 2026 draws to a close, I’ve officially completed my first full season in Classe Figaro: over 5,000 nautical miles sailed across six events, co-leading an international youth squad, delivering the first Kiwi entry in the BPGO, and securing two podium finishes along the way!

My year started back in New Zealand, pounding the pavement around Auckland’s Viaduct Harbour to pitch companies and organisations for sponsorship. Returning to France in February, I secured a key partnership with Real Meals to keep me fuelled at sea. By late March, I was on the start line of the Trophée Laura Verne, my very first offshore race in a Figaro! For an opener, it went well, double-handing with fellow Figaro rookie and British sailor Cam Sword. Shortly after came Spi Ouest in La Trinité-sur-Mer, a massive spectacle bringing together hundreds of boats of all shapes and sizes. I joined a crew of four aboard Joss Creswell’s DigiLab-sponsored Figaro. I had met Joss back in January. Another international sailor chasing the exact same dream. Little did I know how pivotal that friendship would become.

Classe Figaro is world-renowned as the ultimate proving ground for offshore racing talent, which is precisely why I wanted in. However, reality hit hard at the BPGO. Picture 35 one-design Figaros on the line, stacked with the most gifted offshore talent on the planet, including seasoned pros briefly stepping away from their IMOCA and Class40 campaigns for this 800-nautical-mile brawl. It was the steepest learning curve of my yacht racing career. I failed to finish, and the event delivered a brutal reality check on just how tough it is for an international sailor to make their mark here. Mentally and physically battered, I realized the sheer amount of work required to take on the French at their own game.

I channeled every hard lesson into the next event, the Défi Paprec, and scored my first Figaro podium with a 2nd-place finish! That result sparked the momentum I needed for the rest of the season. From there, I took on a new challenge: mentoring nine international sailors during the famous Tour Voile. Led by Joss, who invited me as co-skipper, our mission wasn’t strictly about the scoreboard, it was about giving young sailors the room to race, learn, and grow in a high-performance environment without overwhelming pressure. After three weeks and 30 grueling races, I walked away with as many insights as the crew did.

Rolling back to early March, I had found myself in the middle of the Atlantic aboard Palanad 4, a revolutionary 50-foot scow-bow race boat. I was part of the delivery crew bringing her back to France from Antigua. That initial trip paved the way for an invite to race aboard her in the 50th edition of the Round Britain and Ireland Race. When a last-minute crew slot opened up, I brought Joss onboard, giving us crucial offshore miles together ahead of our big target event, L’Aventura. It was a thrilling eight-day, 1,800-nautical-mile test that got us right into the rhythm of offshore life, though finishing just six days before the start of L’Aventura made for a razor-thin turnaround.

The inaugural double-handed L’Aventura lived up to every bit of the hype, serving up everything from tight coastal tactical battles to raw Atlantic Ocean chaos. Leg 1 unleashed 30+ knot squalls, thunderstorms, broaches, kite wraps, mainsail tears, and an endless stream of gear failures within the first 24 hours. Joss and I dug deep for the remaining 1,600 miles, crossing the line in Lagos, Portugal, in 14th place out of a stacked 20-boat fleet. We knew we had more in the tank, and our eyes remained firmly fixed on a top-10 overall finish.

The final leg was a full-gas sprint north, rounding Cape Finisterre to finish in Brittany. The weather was a rollercoaster of low-pressure fronts and agonizing wind shutdowns. Crossing the Bay of Biscay, Joss and I made a high-stakes tactical gamble, splitting away from the main fleet alongside just one other boat, Macif. We were completely in the dark on whether our tactical decision had paid off until we closed in on the finish off Île d'Yeu. On the sixth evening, as we converged with the fleet, we discovered we were sitting in 3rd place. An hour later, drifting across the line in light air, we locked in 3rd for Leg 2. The first podium for Team DigiLab and my second of the season! That performance propelled us to 7th overall, smashing our top-10 goal and placing us ahead of several highly experienced teams. It was a massive validation of the hard work we’d put in all year and a testament to how far we’d come.

Looking back on a wild offshore season, the journey from getting my arse handed to me in the BPGO to standing on two Figaro podiums, alongside a 2nd-place finish in the Round Britain and Ireland Race, has been an absolute rollercoaster. It was a year defined by high anxiety, intense physical demands, and invaluable lessons, where the stress of the grind was constantly eclipsed by the high of crossing the finish line.

After a full season in the fleet, it’s crystal clear why the French dominate offshore racing and how its current legends were forged. Pound for pound, Figaro racing is the rawest, most unforgiving competition I’ve ever experienced. It has pushed me past my perceived limits, demanding resilience through sleep deprivation, fatigue, and relentless pressure, while sharpening my tactical mind and expanding my global network of teammates and rivals. I step out of 2026 a stronger, smarter sailor, and hungrier than ever for the next challenge..

So, what’s next?