The bioluminescence lighting up the water like a Christmas tree; pods of dolphins swimming alongside your boat—curious, playful, offering company on long stretches of solitude; signing off each day with stunning, mystical sunsets; miles and miles of glittering sea without beginning or end; seagulls wheeling in the distant horizon; a comet seen only once in 80,000 years, streaking across the sky as though late for an appointment…. For circumnavigators Dilna K. and Roopa Alagirisamy, nature put on a grand show. Still, was it worth the heartache, the loneliness, the fear and the danger?
We posed this question to the women, who embarked on an epic eight-month journey of 25,600 nautical miles last October. They were mentored by Abhilash Tomy, the first Indian to circumnavigate the globe solo, non-stop. Aboard the INSV Tarini, they crossed the equator twice and rounded the three major capes—Cape of Good Hope, Cape Leeuwin and Cape Horn. There were four scheduled stops at Fremantle, Australia, where they were honoured by the Western Australian Parliament; Lyttelton in New Zealand, where they were welcomed with Maori traditional rituals; Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands and Cape Town in South Africa. They shared their experience at THE WEEK Maritime Conclave 2025.
Adventure, they said, had always been in their blood. Both the naval officers’ fathers had been in the defence forces and they say it had always been their ambition to follow in their footsteps. Dilna used to stick pictures of officers in uniform on the walls of her room and Roopa was inspired by astronauts like Rakesh Sharma who had a defence background.
After three years of rigorous training, Dilna and Roopa (both 32) were ready to embark on what would turn out to be a life-transforming experience. It was not easy though. The weather was freezing in the Southern Ocean. The air, the water—everything hurt. “We used to rush on deck to do an evolution (tasks at sea), and then come inside to warm our hands,” says Roopa.
They had issues with their steering system because of the huge Southern Ocean swell. The winches used to stop working because of the heavy load on them. The weight of a sail, manually operated, was 100kg, and it required regular maintenance. One day in the Pacific Ocean at around 2am, a series of alarms went off. They had no GPS, wind instruments, steering or boat heading. They faced short circuit and water ingress because of the huge waves. For a moment, they thought they were lost, but in three to four hours, they went through more than 100 cables and rectified the error.
Sometimes water entered the mattress and they had to sleep on wet ones in cold temperatures. There was no fridge or heater. They had to make do with a basic hand-pump toilet and a gas stove for cooking, and mostly managed with tinned food as the fresh food they got at each port only lasted a few days. Sleep was another challenge; they only got snatches of it. It was never safe to doze off for longer. “But through it all, it was when we were completely exhausted and frustrated, mentally and physically, that we realised our true potential,” says Roopa.
The highlight of their journey, they say, was crossing Point Nemo, the remotest part of the earth known as the Oceanic Point of Inaccessibility. They became the first in the world to go to the exact coordinates of Point Nemo on a sailboat. But even more than that, they were excited about crossing Cape Horn, “the Everest and envy of all sailors”. Unfortunately, they got the worst weather that day. “The only thing we wished at that moment was to see the next day’s sunrise,” says Dilna. But they got through it and joined an elite group of sailors called the Cape Horners. “You could see us smiling in the video, but behind the smile, we were experiencing a million emotions,” says Roopa.
Part of their route was through coordinates known as the roaring 40s, the furious 50s and the spinning 60s. In the roaring 40s, for example, they began to get sea sick. Experiencing a sea state of six and wind speed of 60 knots, they had to brave the violent waves before reaching Lyttelton.
Uncharted waters: Dilna and Roopa navigate rough weather aboard the INSV Tarini.
The Southern Ocean swell still haunts them, they say. The long days of sailing—the longest was 47 when they were trying to cross the Pacific—can take a lot out of you. And seeing the same faces in the confined space of the boat can be challenging. But when they went outside and looked at the endless horizon, they felt wonder. “You are just a small speck in the ocean,” says Roopa. “That gives you a sense of the enormity of nature.”
On May 29, after 238 days at sea, Roopa and Dilna returned to land, battered but buoyant. Initially, it was difficult to adjust, they say. Social interactions were not easy because they had gone so long without it. “I felt that not everyone could understand what we had gone through,” says Dilna.
Roopa agrees. “In a way, things are more straightforward out at sea. Nature is more predictable. When you sit watching the birds, the clouds and the water, you feel everything has a pattern. But humans are very unpredictable.”
They also faced many disparaging questions like whether their boat was gender specific to make it easier for women. The world gives them gentle reminders that they are women before they are sailors, they say. The distance we must travel now, they feel, is not geographic, but social.
Both credit family support as one of the primary reasons for their success. Dilna says her father, who died seven years ago, was her greatest source of strength. When she wanted to play cricket as a child, it was her father who took her to play with the neighbourhood boys. He used to drive her long distances for her rifle shooting practice.
“I used to get vivid dreams of my father in the boat,” says Dilna. “He used to talk to me. After we rounded Cape Horn, which was the most challenging part, I remember him telling me that it was not over yet. You have to remain alert at all times, he told me.”
When she got married, her husband was hesitant about her circumnavigation. Because he was also a naval officer, he knew the exact risks. But Dilna was able to convince him how much this meant to her.
Roopa, too, says her parents have been a great source of encouragement. It is their broad-mindedness that allowed Roopa and her two sisters—a DRDO scientist and a data scientist in Australia—to pursue their dreams, no matter what. She says she came to understand the value of their support only during this journey. “I have never really missed home, but this journey brought me closer to them. Even my mom says that I think of her only when I’m sailing. So she asked me, where are you sailing next?” says Roopa with a laugh.
They returned to the same place—Goa—from where they started, but they were not the same people who had set out eight months ago. They had developed a deep respect for nature. They had realised how fragile their plans were and how they had to keep going off-script. Every challenge—mental, physical or emotional—had taught them something. They had also learnt to let go of things which were not under their control and live in the moment.
“The wind and the waves don’t ask who is at the helm,” says Dilna. “They don’t differentiate between men and women. At sea, the only thing that matters is professionalism and your ability to deal with each situation.”