- With a huge mortgage and large debt, the Mercys sold everything for life on the sea
- Shona Mercy, 41, tells her story in her own words…
The crash of the ocean boomed from our lounge room TV.
“Another sailing family?” I laughed, peering in to see my hubby, Bowen, 40, glued to the telly.
Bowen had grown up sailing with his family and he loved watching YouTube videos of families who lived on boats.
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Raised inland, I didn’t share his passion for the water, but after we welcomed our son, Kota, three, and daughter, Harlow, one, beach getaways became a favourite pastime.
But day trips weren’t enough for Bowen.
“Let’s go and sail the world,” he said in 2019.
We didn’t even own a boat.
“Are you crazy?” I replied.
“Absolutely not!”
I couldn’t imagine living in a tiny vessel and I was scared of the open water, but for the next year, Bowen continued to suggest it.
Working hard to pay off the large mortgage on our home in the Sunshine Coast, Qld, I began to wonder if he was onto something.
“Let’s do it,” I finally said.
Smiling brightly, Bowen proposed we take the family on a 12-month voyage. “If we are going to do this, we don’t want to turn back because we ran out of money,” I said, crunching the numbers.
We agreed to spend a few years reducing our debt and growing our savings as we planned our journey.
It didn’t take long to find our dream vessel.
A friend of a friend was selling their four-berth Lagoon 380 catamaran.
The moment we stepped on board, my whole body shivered.
“This is it!” I smiled.
“Open, airy, and bright.”
Bowen agreed and the kids were so excited.
Over the coming months, Bowen taught me boating terms and how to tie sailor’s knots as we put our house, and most of our belongings, up for sale.
“You don’t need much to be happy,” I told the kids.
Finally, we quit our jobs, organised homeschool, and said goodbye to family and friends, not knowing when we would see them again.
In October 2023, we travelled to Cairns, where the boat was moored, and our adventure as The Mercy’s on sea began.
We filled it with the bare essentials – non-perishable food, one pot, one pan, a week’s worth of clothes and a pair of thongs each.
While the kids cheered as we left land, the reality of our situation was dawning on me.
I’m terrified of the open ocean, I thought.
What am I doing?
But the relaxed pace of our debt-free life and the beauty of the Great Barrier Reef soon quietened my fears.
Our first stop was Fitzroy Island, Qld.
Each day, the kids would paddle with fish before breakfast and swim with turtles at sunset.
We made new boating friends, some with kids, and we’d meet for group dinners and ocean parties.
In December, we began travelling south to see what the amazing reef had to offer, but that month, we got warning that Cyclone Jasper was heading our way.
With the wind picking up, we steered toward mangroves just north of the Whitsundays, sailing upstream until it was shallow enough to drop anchor and bunker down.
“Should we be doing this?” I fretted, questioning our new life.
“We’ll be fine,” Bowen reassured me.
Sure enough, protected by the dense foliage, the storm didn’t scratch us, and a few days later, we continued south.
But after arriving at the Whitsundays, we received another cyclone warning.
“Not again,” I moaned.
Bowen agreed to stay put until cyclone season was over, keeping close to land to ease my stress.
By contrast, Kota and Harlow woke each day bursting with excitement.
Watching them thrive on the ocean reassured me we were doing the right thing.
After Christmas, feeling more adjusted to life at sea, we decided to head north to Indonesia.
As we left the safety of Australian waters, Bowen did night shifts at the helm and I took over at dawn.
With no land in sight, I tried not to think about the vast depths below.
After six days, we landed in Tual, Kei Islands, and stocked up on supplies.
For the next year, we explored the islands of Indonesia, sailing past sky-high pinnacles and hiking in untouched jungles.
“Look at this, Mum!” Kota would squeal, spotting some rare marine creature at a secluded beach.
Sharing it all with our kids was what we’d dreamt of for years.
Homeschooling worked well, too.
Each morning, we’d go through maths equations and English literature together, and when the sibling rivalry got too much in tight quarters, we had Starlink internet to provide some time apart.
I also topped up our travel fund with freelance graphic design work online. Then, in January 2025, we were making our way toward Bali when we were hit by a savage monsoon.
After weeks of endless storms tossing our boat about like a toy, we were way off course in open ocean.
I was exhausted, praying that each wave would be the last.
“We’ve been at sea for over a year now,” I finally said to Bowen.
“Maybe it’s time to get back on land.”
“Yep, let’s go home,” he agreed.
The boat had taught us you don’t need a huge house and fancy things to be happy.
We searched online for a remote, off-grid home and bought one near Launceston, Tas.
Not wanting to endure another storm, the kids and I flew back to Australia to get settled in while Bowen sailed the catamaran south.
Now, the kids are at the local primary school, thriving with their new friends, and Bowen has returned to us in one piece.
We all agree, living on a sailboat was the best thing we’ve ever done.
The kids learnt so much more than school could teach them, and while we don’t have plans to move back to the ocean anytime soon, we never say never.
Follow their adventures on YouTube @TheMercys
