What would you do if you were stuck on a ship, far from loved ones, and you had no idea how - or when - you'd get home? A BBC podcast follows the story of how one young woman's life took an unexpectedly wild turn.
It is New Year's Eve 2019 and Giulia Baccosi is at a party with friends when her phone pings.
The 31-year-old has recently accepted a new job in Sicily, but isn't sure she's made the right call. My heart was telling me maybe I should reconsider, Giulia says. I look up at the sky and ask the universe for a sign - to let me know if I am on the right path.
The message that flashes up on Giulia's phone is from a friend. It says a cargo ship carrying rum and olive oil from Europe to Central America is about to set sail - and it needs a cook.
Giulia has previously worked as a ship's cook and decides she'll take this new job rather than the one in Sicily.
I'll come with you to Mexico, she says on the phone to the ship's owner, and then I'll leave.
It is anticipated this leg of the voyage will take about three months - after which Giulia plans to return to her life in Italy. But that's not how things work out.
In early January, excitement builds aboard the Avontuur - a 100-year-old schooner - as it sets sail from Germany and heads towards the rough waters of the North Sea. Giulia will be cooking three meals a day for the hungry crew and managing supplies.
The first port of call is Santa Cruz de Tenerife and as the Avontuur approaches, the crew can hear the distant drums of the city's enormous carnival. After 36 days at sea, everyone is keen to let their hair down. Once on shore the crew find themselves surrounded by thousands of revellers in dazzling outfits.
We were just like, 'What to do? Let's join the party!' Giulia remembers.
The following morning, slightly hungover, a rumour reaches them about some holidaymakers on the island who have fallen ill with a mystery virus and been quarantined in their hotel. But it is soon forgotten as the crew prepare to set sail again.
One morning soon after, as Giulia is chopping fruit and stirring porridge, the night watch tells her about an unusual little light that's been spotted on the horizon.
The Avontuur is 45 nautical miles off the coast of Gran Canaria and the light is too far out to be a fishing boat. Suddenly commands are shouted, sails are dropped, and the engine - used only in emergencies - is turned on.
As the light comes closer, she sees a small, wooden fishing vessel with five women and 11 men on board, packed so tightly they can barely stand.
They are waving, Giulia says, from a distance we can hear them shouting. The boat's occupants have been drifting at sea for more than 10 days and have run out of water, food, and fuel. The crossing they have tried to make, from West Africa to the Canaries, is one of the most dangerous in the world. Tens of thousands attempt this journey each year; many do not make it.
Brought aboard the Avontuur, the exhausted migrants are fed, watered, and given medical attention. I remember one of them telling me, 'I didn't know the sea was so big,' Giulia says.
Despite their good intentions, days later as the crew of the Avontuur is asked to gather on deck, the captain reads out an email: The world as you know it no longer exists. Ports, airports, and borders are closing due to Covid-19, isolating Giulia and the crew from their loved ones.
As they try to navigate uncertainty at sea, emotions run high as they wrestle with fear and anxiety, creating bonds through shared experiences. They find joy in simple pleasures like dolphins swimming alongside the ship, but face harsh challenges, including rationing food and finding ways to cook without gas.
By June 2020, after 188 days at sea, the Avontuur finally approaches the port of Hamburg in Germany. Overcome with emotion, Giulia reflects on how the experience has changed her and the world around her, as she looks to the future, asking again for signs from the universe.
Despite the wild turn Giulia's voyage on the Avontuur took, it didn't deter her from a life at sea. Five years on, she is now aboard another boat off the coast of Greenland, still seeking those signs of affirmation.
It is New Year's Eve 2019 and Giulia Baccosi is at a party with friends when her phone pings.
The 31-year-old has recently accepted a new job in Sicily, but isn't sure she's made the right call. My heart was telling me maybe I should reconsider, Giulia says. I look up at the sky and ask the universe for a sign - to let me know if I am on the right path.
The message that flashes up on Giulia's phone is from a friend. It says a cargo ship carrying rum and olive oil from Europe to Central America is about to set sail - and it needs a cook.
Giulia has previously worked as a ship's cook and decides she'll take this new job rather than the one in Sicily.
I'll come with you to Mexico, she says on the phone to the ship's owner, and then I'll leave.
It is anticipated this leg of the voyage will take about three months - after which Giulia plans to return to her life in Italy. But that's not how things work out.
In early January, excitement builds aboard the Avontuur - a 100-year-old schooner - as it sets sail from Germany and heads towards the rough waters of the North Sea. Giulia will be cooking three meals a day for the hungry crew and managing supplies.
The first port of call is Santa Cruz de Tenerife and as the Avontuur approaches, the crew can hear the distant drums of the city's enormous carnival. After 36 days at sea, everyone is keen to let their hair down. Once on shore the crew find themselves surrounded by thousands of revellers in dazzling outfits.
We were just like, 'What to do? Let's join the party!' Giulia remembers.
The following morning, slightly hungover, a rumour reaches them about some holidaymakers on the island who have fallen ill with a mystery virus and been quarantined in their hotel. But it is soon forgotten as the crew prepare to set sail again.
One morning soon after, as Giulia is chopping fruit and stirring porridge, the night watch tells her about an unusual little light that's been spotted on the horizon.
The Avontuur is 45 nautical miles off the coast of Gran Canaria and the light is too far out to be a fishing boat. Suddenly commands are shouted, sails are dropped, and the engine - used only in emergencies - is turned on.
As the light comes closer, she sees a small, wooden fishing vessel with five women and 11 men on board, packed so tightly they can barely stand.
They are waving, Giulia says, from a distance we can hear them shouting. The boat's occupants have been drifting at sea for more than 10 days and have run out of water, food, and fuel. The crossing they have tried to make, from West Africa to the Canaries, is one of the most dangerous in the world. Tens of thousands attempt this journey each year; many do not make it.
Brought aboard the Avontuur, the exhausted migrants are fed, watered, and given medical attention. I remember one of them telling me, 'I didn't know the sea was so big,' Giulia says.
Despite their good intentions, days later as the crew of the Avontuur is asked to gather on deck, the captain reads out an email: The world as you know it no longer exists. Ports, airports, and borders are closing due to Covid-19, isolating Giulia and the crew from their loved ones.
As they try to navigate uncertainty at sea, emotions run high as they wrestle with fear and anxiety, creating bonds through shared experiences. They find joy in simple pleasures like dolphins swimming alongside the ship, but face harsh challenges, including rationing food and finding ways to cook without gas.
By June 2020, after 188 days at sea, the Avontuur finally approaches the port of Hamburg in Germany. Overcome with emotion, Giulia reflects on how the experience has changed her and the world around her, as she looks to the future, asking again for signs from the universe.
Despite the wild turn Giulia's voyage on the Avontuur took, it didn't deter her from a life at sea. Five years on, she is now aboard another boat off the coast of Greenland, still seeking those signs of affirmation.
