The term re-wilding is becoming more and more common, especially following the popularity of Isabella Tree’s book “Wilding” that maps her family’s journey to bring nature back into their Sussex farm. Beyond turning land over to nature, many of us are looking for ways to bring a little more wild into our own lives. 

In this update, Frankie Dewar, our brilliant Social Media Manager, is joining us to share her experience of sailing aboard ‘Brigantine Florette’ – a 100+ year old tall ship-  and becoming thoroughly “re-wilded”. 

“Man the main sail! – portside team to positions!” It is the first day of a week long sailing voyage around the Aeolian Islands of southern Italy, we’ve not long left Vibo – our starting marina, and I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing! 

Having never sailed a tall ship before I’m feeling nervous, excited and ready to get stuck in. We take our newly assigned positions and a flurry of activity starts. Hands on ropes, voices raised to return the call “….And…. PULL” and knots quickly made to secure everything in place. Entirely focused on the task in front of me, it’s not until I step back and look up that I realise, our sore hands, worked muscles and team effort have resulted in sails towering high above us. I am completely enthralled. 

Dipping back into nature

Despite spending all my working days writing and talking about the outdoors and adventure – I spend the majority of my time in front of a screen and hunched at a desk. Combined with caring responsibilities, house renovations, and the “life admin” that seems to go along with it all – adventure has definitely fallen to the bottom of my “todo list” in recent years. Windswept hair, tired eyes and sandy toes scrunched in sleeping bags feeling like a thing of the past. 

Encouraged by friends, colleagues and even my therapist that joining this voyage will be the nature fix my life needs, I find myself on board, and about to quite literally, step into the sea. 

There are a few of us hovering around the starboard side of the ship, swim-wear on, looking down into the rich azure blue. The anchor has been dropped, the ladder set and we have arrived at our first swim spot. No one wants to be the first person to take the leap. Safety briefing ringing in our ears – check for current, stay close in case of other boats, and even the brief mention of unlikely sharks. 

My turn inevitably comes around, a huge grin cracks on my face as I step down the ladder. Reaching the bottom step, the warm water of the Mediterranean sea laps around my legs, one big breath and I sink down to meet it. The water is clear enough to easily see my legs as I look down, water dropping away into bottomless blue. This has to be the deepest water I have ever swum in, with no current I allow myself to float. It’s a moment of peace worlds away from my inbox, deadlines and meetings – and everything my body has been craving for so long. 

A changing world of volcanic energy

The ringing of the ship’s bell quickly became one of the most exciting sounds on board. It signaled for everyone to make their way to the table – either for a meal, a briefing, or on the best days, for both! 

I was surprised by the briefings. Led by Captain Ron, they usually involved maps and charts, a white board and a pen. With a completely flexible schedule we’d find out where we were mooring, for how long and what the insider tips were for making the most of our island stops. What surprised me the most was how collaborative they were, worlds apart from printed itineraries we’d share a show of hands to gauge interest, have several options to choose from, and with such vast knowledge of the area, Ron could adapt the itinerary to our interests. By day four, when the suggestion of another big hike was met with tired sighs, a lack of enthusiasm and no hands raised, the schedule quickly changed to snorkelling and the opportunity to see bubbles caused by volcanic activity – I think some of us even squealed! 

One piece of information from the briefings stuck firmly in my memory. A map of the islands… From an underwater perspective. The Aeolian archipelago has been shaped by volcanic activity over a period of 260,000 years, with their cone-like sides and collapsed ridges plunging deep into the sea, but looking at the map I learned that what you see above water is only part of the picture.

Underwater the landscape is equally complex with much of the volcanos hidden beneath the surface, side craters and deep ridges. That afternoon we anchored not on the floor of the sea, but on the side of a volcano. 

Later that day we took our first dingy ashore – to one of the most iconic islands, and an active volcano – Stromboli.

Connecting to deep time

Our plan was to hike for just over an hour, up the side of Stromboli, to a view point, an ideal spot to both watch the sun set and to catch a glimpse of lava eruptions thrown into the air. 

“You don’t get much more ‘path less travelled’ than this” I think to myself as I pick my way through dust and rocks, all shaped by the volcano we’re walking around. We take the long route, hiking up from the town, and around the slope of small ridges and valleys before the final push to the viewing station. Each turn is different, from the high vegetation making us feel like we’re trapped in a maze, to rock filled valleys likely carved deeper by water runoff. My mind flicks back to the sign that calmly informs us “Area of volcanic activity – If the alarm rings return to town immediately” … I try not to think about how long it would take us to return to town now.  

We arrive at the vantage point just as the sun starts to graze the horizon, throwing shades of pink into the sky. We watch silently as it turns from soft pink to bright red heads turning right to the sun and left to Stromboli’s crater where pockets of steam intermittently puff into the air. As the sky darkens a few others who shared the sunset with our group begin to wander back down the mountain – but the rest of us are waiting a little longer. Knowing that the real show is about to begin. 

A gasp goes round the crowd – a few phones and cameras shoot to the air – others stand transfixed. Against the darkness of night, Stromboli flames a bright red into the air. I have just witnessed real, actual, glowing red lava. And again bigger than before, sparking down the hillside and turning darker shades as it settles. 

“It’s pretty wild isn’t it” I say to Kate, my hiking companion and fellow crew member, “How the lava we’re seeing right now is so, so deeply old, from somewhere so far beneath us – but at the same time, as it settles on the surface and hardens to rock, it’s also something new”. She lowers her phone and smiles, “There’s something metaphorical in that isn’t there”. 

As we continue to sail I notice the marks of time in the rocks we sail past, sedimentary layers causing mesmerising swirls in the cliff faces. I catch a glimpse of how much bigger the world really is, memories of deadlines fade just a little more and in the way travel always does – it feels like my perspective shifts.

Aligning with nature’s rhythm

I feel something gently tugging me awake. It’s not an alarm, a todo list or that startled shock where you reach for the time and wonder if you’ve overslept. I peel an eye open, and realise what woke me, the very first rays of light breaking the horizon as dawn is coming. It must be before 6am, but despite the early start I feel a deep calm over my body, refreshed from a deep quality sleep, and even if I didn’t – there is no way I’m going to miss watching such a beautiful sunrise. 

Despite having been allocated a family sized cabin with a large double bed, I have opted to sleep on deck every night. On top of the “galley” roof a large soft mat makes the perfect place to lay out a sleeping bag and drift off gazing into the night sky and feeling gently rocked by the movement of the ship. 

I anticipated that I might need an eye mask, or earplugs. Especially as the ship remains partially lit at night for safety, and there were usually four of us sleeping on deck, but surprisingly I didn’t use either. With every night on board I found it easier to fall asleep, felt myself sleeping deeper and waking earlier – slowly syncing to the movements of the sun. 

The schedule is flexible but the rhythm of the sea shapes our days. In my sunrise ritual, I’m among the first to wake, always treated to a morning coffee in a mug that fittingly says “today is a happy day”. From there we swim, soaping up with reef safe soap and jumping back in the water to shower. Breakfast is served, the schedule is made, filled with shore excursions, sailing, snorkeling, paddle boarding, and – of course – multiple more opportunities to swim. We alternate between meals on board and meals ashore, allowing time to properly experience each island before moving on. Sunset becomes a communal activity, everyone moving to the part of the ship with the best view.

There is a simplicity to the days, filled with so much it’s impossible to do it all, each one seeming to fill an entire week on its own. 

I can’t help but think back to my first day on board where the words “breakfast is a late start at 8am” filled me with dread – if 8am was late, how early was early?! Now only a few days in it’s like all my inner rhythms have reset. I watch the sun slowly rise, the rest of the ship stirring too and can’t wait to get started with the day.

Remembering the wildness within

There is one lesson I learn on every single adventure I go on –  that my body was designed to move – and feels better when I do. Aside from volcanic hikes, daily swims, and open offering of additional activities… Aboard this square rigged brigantine, movement comes in the form of hoisting the sails and manning the ropes. 

Entirely raised, lowered and adjusted by human power, the ship’s vast array of sails require a team effort. 

I stand “Ready on Jib number 5” awaiting the signal to start pulling. Whenever the order to set the sails comes a flurry of activity happens, everyone to position, ropes are released, pulled, “belayed” (which means secured back onto the pins that line the ship) and people are called from one sail to the next. Depending on which rope we are manning and how the sail needs to be set, a different effort is required. In general, each rope becomes a team effort. From smaller lines that were manned one by one to the main sail where we line up as a team, all hands on, all pulling as hard as we can to raise it bit by bit. Professional crew, always on hand to guide us, add their weight to our trying efforts, or ensure our safety as we man the ropes. 

Expecting to feel exhausted as the week went on, I was surprised to feel my body getting stronger. My back and shoulders are less tight, and my body easily falls into the movement with the other guest crew. The phrases “Man the main sail” and “raising Jibs 2,3 and 5” that seemed completely foreign on day one – made complete sense by day 4. 

By the final day I’m googling all kinds of activities close to my home in Sheffield – free diving, surfing, wake boarding. Anything to “micro-dose” movement and the sea. It’s with both a heavy heart and excitement that I’m leaving the ship. Sad to be leaving, but already converted to the world of tall ship sailing, and excited to be back on the water again soon. 

I leave the ship with sun kissed skin, salty hair and hard patches developing on my hands. It’s wild how much my body has changed in just a week. My brain getting used to the rocking of the ship, I no longer feel the uneasy queasyness as we sway side to side. As I get used to the light I wake easily with the sun, the thought of 8:30 sounds like a different life, and my body feels stronger, like it’s remembered all the movements it usually yearns for when I’m scrunched at my desk. 

Many times when I’ve travelled in the past I’ve left the trip with a feeling I’m sure many of you know, completely changed, unsure if anyone at home will recognise you, weathered emotionally and physically. 

This trip feels different… It’s not so much that I feel changed, it’s that I finally feel like myself.

________ 

Looking for your own chance to re-wild?

Florette’s 2026 voyages are now online! Find their full itinerary  here – including the wonders of the Aeolian Islands, Maritime Festivals in France and Spain, and crossings from Malta to Italy! 

You can also find our selection of time poor adventure rich trips here – perfect for anyone looking to re-discover their wild side on a budget of annual leave.