Andy Fitze is passionate about organizing seemingly impossible sailing expeditions. He is often drawn to the uppermost region of the northern hemisphere, both in summer and winter. Together with his crews, he braves not only freezing 20° below zero temperatures, snow and ice, but also hurricanes with winds of over 120km/h.
The most headwinds, however, he hasn't experienced on the boat. But naysayers just further assure him to leave the beaten paths and defy the odds.
Andy combines 25 years of leadership experience on land with 22 expeditions on the high seas. He stands for robust action and bold leadership by maverick.
In over 20 own expeditions he has sailed across all oceans and navigated over 40 countries to port.
The bucket list of extreme destinations is still long. The beauty and superiority of nature are calling him for many more adventures.
Interested in participating on a cost- and risk-sharing basis among friends. Send us an e-mail
When you prepare an expedition for nine people and five weeks in some of the most remote parts of the North Atlantic, food becomes a mission of its own. For months, Andrea, Martin and I had been working on our food plan, calculating quantities, planning meals and trying to figure out how much nine hungry people would actually eat while sailing to Jan Mayen, East Greenland, Iceland and the Faroe Islands.
After we had to cancel our sailing trip to Greenland and settle for cruising the beautiful Norwegian fjords instead, everyone keeps telling us things like: "What's wrong with sailing a yacht in the Norwegian fjords?" or "There are worse things in life than spending three weeks in Norway."
We were ready for takeoff.
Hey everyone! Another busy day of getting the boat ready is behind us. Today was all about sorting out our massive mountain of supplies, doing some fine-tuning, and making sure we are safe out there. When you are heading out to the open sea, every little detail counts!
It is almost 2:00 am. The boat is quiet. Everyone is asleep. My day, however, is still not over.
In a few weeks, I'll step aboard a 60-square-meter steel sailboat with nine others and head north. For five weeks, there will be no ports, no resupply, and, for long stretches, no connection to the outside world. Just the North Atlantic, ice, fog, and the quiet rhythm of wind and sea.
