A Shandong family of three sells house and car to sail around six countries in a sailboat, heading to Australia in November

 

    Back on land, Zhai Feng often dreams of being back in the stormy sea. In the dream, a sudden violent storm hits. He shouts loudly, pressing his limbs tightly against the billowing mainsail of the "Rainbow Warrior." The dense rain pelts down on him like bullets. The fierce wind, as sharp as blades, ruthlessly tears through the headsail. Beside him, his wife Sun Hongyan strains with all her might to steer the helm, while their 9-year-old daughter Naixin stares wide-eyed in terror.

    When he wakes up, this 36-year-old man from Shandong often breaks out in a cold sweat. It wasn’t just a dream—it was a real moment that happened on March 26 of this year while sailing near Langkawi, Malaysia.

    Last October, this family sold their house and car, the adults quit their jobs, and the child took a break from school, embarking on a sailing journey in pursuit of freedom: an eight-month voyage through six countries including Thailand, Myanmar, Malaysia, and Singapore, covering over 4,000 nautical miles (equivalent to more than 7,000 kilometers). Now, they’ve returned to their hometown in Yanzhou, Shandong, waiting for the north winds of November. When the winds blow south, they’ll set off again.

    At the end of November 2012, the Zhai family had just begun their journey setting sail. Around that time, the movie Life of Pi was released. The film tells the story of a boy named "Pi" and a Bengal tiger on a perilous and wondrous sea voyage. Pi fears the tiger but also depends on it. Director Ang Lee said everyone has a tiger inside them.

    For the past 18 years, Zhai Feng, a railway worker, often heard the roar of that tiger in his heart. Back then, he had what many in his small town considered a stable, easy, and well-paid job—even though his promotion had been blocked because he refused to follow the unspoken rules. His wife also worked for the railway system, and their daughter was smart and lively. They owned a home and a car and never worried about making a living.

    But life, like a “cliché single-player video game,” bored Zhai Feng: “Everyone is like a screw on a machine, and the scariest part is that everyone thinks life is just like this and can’t be changed.”

    So he studied photography and computers, hoping that one day he wouldn’t have to work and could make a living with those skills. He rode a bicycle with his wife and daughter around Hainan, traveled Nepal by motorcycle, wanting to see the real world.

    Through TV, he got to know “China’s first offshore sailor” Zhai Mo. Zhai Feng faintly felt that a sailboat could help him push open the “door to the world”: with just a boat, he could sail boundless seas and go anywhere he wanted, relying only on the power of the wind and currents.

    The sailing dream became clearer in Zhai Feng’s mind. But he and his wife had no savings, so selling their house and car became their only option. To have large blocks of free time, quitting their jobs was inevitable. They didn’t want to abandon their daughter, nor did they want her to become a copy of the education assembly line—so after getting Naixin’s agreement, taking a break from school became the natural choice.

    Before departure, everyone, including Zhai Feng’s parents and in-laws, thought he had “gone mad.” Zhai Feng’s complete break from his previous life also worried his wife Sun Hongyan, who agreed to join the trip. The two often argued and suffered from insomnia every night.

    Later, when appearing on TV talk shows, some guests criticized Zhai Feng for not being able to balance travel and life. But in Zhai Feng’s view, quitting jobs, taking a break from school, and selling the house and car left him with no other choice.

    A new boat is expensive. Through online searches, Zhai Feng learned he could find good value second-hand boats in Langkawi, Malaysia. With all the money from selling the house and car, he spent $55,000 (about 340,000 yuan) to buy a second-hand boat. It was 38 feet (11.8 meters) long, equipped with a full kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, four beds, three power generation systems, and storage for 500 liters of fuel and water. The night before buying the boat, anxiety kept him and his wife awake several times.

    That day, touching the rust spots on the boat like “crow’s feet on a middle-aged woman’s face,” Zhai Feng felt like he owned the whole world: “Can those who doubted and mocked me the most see this?”

    Zhai Feng named the boat the "Rainbow Warrior." On November 24, 2012, piloting the "Rainbow Warrior," they set sail from Malaysia for the first time.

    The sunrise at dawn is the most beautiful moment at sea. The clouds dyed in vibrant colors by the sunlight take turns appearing, shifting into different shapes, turning the entire sea surface into a grand circus performance.

    During the eight months at sea, about one-fifth of the time was spent actually sailing. In the cramped cabin, life was peaceful and simple. During the day, Zhai Feng and his wife would take turns resting or organizing sailing logs and photos. Their daughter Naixin read books, studied, and drew on the boat. In the late afternoon, when the sea was calm, Zhai Feng and his wife would swim off the boat or fish on the water. At mealtime, his wife would cook a balanced meal using food stored in the fridge, just like at home—Naixin could enjoy her favorite tomato and egg noodles.

    Dusk was the most comfortable time for the family. After finishing chores and when it was fully dark with cooler temperatures, the family would sit together, watch a movie on a laptop or iPad, or just chat. One day, Sun Hongyan talked about a boy she had a crush on in elementary school, making her husband and daughter burst out laughing.

    This kind of life was what Zhai Feng had long yearned for. On land, nights used to involve him playing online games in one room while his wife watched TV with their daughter in another—with little communication among the family.

    There’s an old Chinese saying: “If you can go up the mountain, don’t go down to the sea.” Once the pleasant moments pass, come nights that demand constant vigilance: everyone puts on headlamps, flashlights, life vests, switches on the boat’s lights, radios, sonar, radar, and adjusts the mainsail and jib according to the weather...

    Before setting off, Zhai Feng taught himself navigation. He was afraid of the pitch-black sea—the greatest dangers often lurk beneath the calmest surface. The occasional glimmer of fishing boat lights on the horizon would bring him some relief. But navigating around fishing nets made for busy, exhausting nights.

    Zhai Feng said every sailor sets out carrying fear. Over the past eight months, fear had followed them like a tiger, accompanying them every nautical mile. The Zhai family had faced over ten dangerous situations, big and small. Once, because Zhai Feng overslept, their boat “Rainbow Warrior” nearly collided with an oncoming large fishing vessel. His wife, Sun Hongyan, was so frightened she sat dumbstruck on the deck in her underwear, murmuring “I’m sorry” as the huge ship passed by. Thunderstorms were their most feared moments—no one knew if the next lightning strike might hit their boat. The three of them would huddle together in the cabin, praying for the storm to pass quickly.

    Zhai Feng said when real danger struck, there was no time to be afraid. They had to find a solution in the shortest possible time; any hesitation could mean “each crisis could have been fatal.”

    At sea, Zhai Feng fulfilled a long-held wish: growing out his hair. He joked that he looked much more handsome. Their daughter Naixin got tanned and grew taller. At sea, she didn’t get sick or throw tantrums. His wife Sun Hongyan, on the other hand, had the most “incidents”: falling overboard, getting cut by shells, and frequently falling ill. Having just turned thirty, it seemed it was only after this sailing journey that she truly felt she had “grown up.”

    She also came to better understand how to get along with her husband. In the past, she dealt with conflicts with Zhai Feng through long periods of silence. But at sea, any emotion had to be expressed immediately because they had to face the ever-changing ocean conditions together.

    Thousands of miles from shore, sailing the open sea, Zhai Feng would sometimes ask himself philosophical questions: “Why are you here? What are you searching for?”

    To others, sailing is a feat, but to Zhai Feng, it’s simply a way of life. At sea, they also saw the kaleidoscopic lives of others.

    Aside from traveling, most of their time ashore was spent at “yacht clubs.” Much like rest stops on highways, sailboat travelers need to rest and dock at these yacht clubs. Besides providing mooring, refueling, and charging services, yacht clubs offer more facilities and spaces designed for people.

    Many yacht clubs are located in scenic areas and share amenities with five-star hotels. At the Port Dickson Yacht Club in Malaysia, Zhai Feng once ran into several Chinese tourists at the pool. After asking around, he felt rather proud: “The cost for them to swim here is joining a luxury Southeast Asia tour package, staying at a yacht club hotel at 2,000 yuan per night. We live on our own ‘houseboat’ and only pay 104 yuan per day to dock!”

    Unlike the opulent yachting lifestyle traditionally associated with wealth in China, most yacht clubs are home to ordinary sailors from around the world who live, relax, and socialize here. Zhai Feng met a couple sailing halfway across the globe with their 17-month-old daughter, a British family sailing the world with their three daughters, and the American Arlen family of four living on their boat with their two beloved big dogs...

    Zhai Feng said that most sailors from other countries are retired couples. He helped a friend find a second-hand boat whose owners were a French couple both over 73 years old. On the day of handing over the boat, the couple lovingly touched it as if saying goodbye to their child. Then the elderly woman, carrying a simple little bag, walked ashore hand-in-hand with her husband, her elegant white hair fluttering in the sea breeze.

    Zhai Feng also once met a young couple from Beijing who shyly told him their family had bought them a yacht for 2 million yuan, but they felt it wasn’t fancy enough. But when sailing to Phuket, Thailand, Zhai Feng saw a strange large sailboat—which would have been just an iron cargo ship if not for its retrofit mast. Flying the German flag, a bunch of young people lounged leisurely on the aft deck. The very young captain ran out of the cockpit to greet them. This left Zhai Feng feeling envious: “They built their own ark, cruising the world, living exactly the life they want.”

    On June 23 of this year, their voyage was temporarily put on hold as they returned to their hometown of Yanzhou in Shandong. Doubts surrounded them again, with the most common question being: “Haven’t you had enough fun? Shouldn’t you come home now?” When he visited his in-laws, he was even turned away.

    More pressing issues lay ahead. Last year, they set off with their entire savings of 390,000 yuan. Although on average they only spent three to four thousand yuan per month, the loss of their income source has left them with just over ten thousand yuan remaining.

    Some commercial sponsors approached Zhai Feng. Businesses hoped to place their logos on the boat in exchange for the family sailing a designated route. Zhai Feng planned to decline—he wanted to “earn money standing tall.”

    He proposed a more romantic and idealistic idea: using space on the boat to let ordinary people sign their names, charging 10 yuan per signature. Zhai Feng called it the “Voyage of a Million People.” He said it was a people’s global voyage. “When you see us sailing back to China, doesn’t it feel like we’ve all kept a small promise together? In a few years, we’ll all fulfill the dream of traveling the world. You can tell those who doubt you: look, we did it together—there’s my mark on the boat.”

    Their next stop is Australia and New Zealand. Zhai Feng believes this is only the beginning—sailing is like a long staircase leading to the life he wants. “I want to see what this world and this era are really like. Life offers choices, and everything can change.”