Mare ad Astra: The Moment That Changes Everything

16,800 people. Since 2008.

It doesn’t sound like much, does it? But before you dismiss it, consider this: each of them spent a berth day.

A single day at sea can reshape perspectives. A week? It rewires the mind. Now, imagine the compounded impact over years, over generations. Call it a ripple effect, a snowball effect—whatever you want. The truth is, it works. It was tested.

Let me tell you about Jack.

He was a drug dealer from Liverpool. A kid, just 15 years old, who never saw a way out. Until he did. Until someone put him on a boat, where rules were different, where survival depended on collaboration, where no one cared about his past—only about how he adapted, learned, and contributed.

Jack didn’t just leave that boat a different person. He left with a future.

Isn’t that the strongest example of Mare ad Astra?

But it’s not just about Jack. It’s about all of us.

I grew up in a wonderful family, surrounded by love and support. My path was clear—until the day it wasn’t. At 17, it all ended. My father passed away right before my eyes on our way to an award ceremony, where I was meant to be honored as the best student in English. The loss was devastating, not only for me but for my mother, who adored him and fell into deep depression, and suddenly, I was alone. It took me five years to pull her out of it, to get my own life back on track, to fulfill my father’s wish and continue my studies in Europe.

For years, I thought about nothing but studies and career. Until the world shut down during COVID. And that’s when I found MonAsia. Or rather, it found me.

But sometimes, transformation isn’t gentle. It doesn’t come in quiet moments of reflection. Sometimes, it comes with the full force of nature—testing whether you’re ready to survive it.

And that’s exactly what happened in Iceland.

I was on board a sailing vessel in the North Atlantic when the storm hit. Imagine - it was my first saililng trip ;)

The kind of storm that doesn’t care who you are, what you’ve been through, or what plans you have for the future.

The wind howled. The waves towered over us. The boat was nothing but a fragile shell tossed between giants.

It was my turn to do my service. My teammates were there, helping, supporting—but in that moment, I felt death looking at me, and some of them said that I looked like death myself....

Fear was absolute. But it didn’t matter. The sea doesn’t wait for fear to pass. You move, or you don’t make it.

When the storm finally passed, I was still standing. But I was not the same person.

That night, as I looked up at the sky, I finally understood what Mare ad Astra really meant. It’s not just about reaching for something greater—it’s about facing the abyss and choosing to keep going. It’s about what happens when you’re stripped of everything—your safety, your certainty, your past—and you find out what’s left.

And here’s what I’ve learned: this is where transformation happens.

For Jack, it was that boat. For me, it was that storm and yes, the boat as well. For 16,800 people, it was a berth day.

Now, imagine this on a bigger scale.

Imagine what could happen if we applied this concept everywhere—in education, in leadership, in sustainability. Imagine what the world could look like if more people had the chance to experience the moment that changes everything.

Because sustainability is not just about theory—it’s about knowing how to navigate through uncertainty, through storms. It’s about knowing that survival depends on collaboration, resilience, and adaptation.

Just like at sea.

Just like in life.

The future doesn’t start with policies or strategies. It starts here. With experience. With courage. With the willingness to sail through the storm.

Mare ad Astra. I trust my message is clear.