Last spring, Oliver Widger quit his corporate job of 11 years, liquidated his 401(k) and bought a sailboat. His goal: to set sail from his home in Oregon and voyage around the world, starting with a first leg of 2,400 miles to Hawaii.
Mr. Widger’s journey is different from other ocean voyages in two notable ways. For starters, he had no prior sailing experience before he paid $50,000 for a used Com-Pac 33 boat, which he named Phoenix, after his rescue cat. Second, that cat, a female calico, is his only companion on the trip.
Because this is 2025, Mr. Widger is hardly alone on the high seas. Using a Starlink satellite system for internet, he has been documenting his trip in real time on social media. And since he departed on April 30, his accounts have taken off, with nearly one million followers on Instagram and 700,000 on TikTok.
Mr. Widger, 29, has longish brown hair, a scruffy beard and an earnest “hey, dude” manner. He opens each day’s video diary with some variation of “Hello, this is Day 9 of sailing across the Pacific Ocean, alone with my cat, from Oregon to Hawaii.”
He was inspired to go on his adventure after being diagnosed with Klippel-Feil syndrome, a rare bone disorder in which vertebrae in the neck are fused together. It can cause muscle weakness and even paralysis.
His followers, who have been making their own videos about his trip, regard his decision as life-affirming. They watched as Mr. Widger’s rudder broke and he had to do on-the-fly repairs, and they’ve also been there for moments when he is simply chilling on the boat deck. As with all real-time adventure chronicles, there is perhaps an element of waiting to see if Mr. Widger and Phoenix, who are about halfway to Hawaii, will make it or get swallowed up by a rogue wave.
The New York Times caught up with Mr. Widger on Monday — Day 13 — to see how he and Phoenix are doing, and what he makes of his sudden fame.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
Where are you at the moment? Can you describe what you see?
I’m sitting at my chart table, where I do my navigations. If you go to my Instagram highlights, there’s a tracker that will show where I am and my coordinates. I’m closer to the people in the space station than to people on land.
You are alone in a vast ocean, yet connected to millions of people watching. Can you describe this strange, thoroughly modern feeling?
Crossing the ocean is absolutely nuts. And the same day I started, I went viral, which is also absolutely nuts. These two insane things have happened at the same time.
It feels wrong in a way. It feels like it’s against the rules. All of my heroes went alone. They went borderline insane on these passages. It is truly you and the elements.
Because you were an inexperienced sailor before this trip, how did you determine your readiness to go?
The biggest problem that people have is just going. Everybody tries to wait for the right moment: The boat has to be perfect, the training has to be perfect. And they never go.
I know I’m relatively inexperienced. But I’ve worked on this boat and learned how to sail seven days a week, 12 hours a day, for the last year. I felt my skills were ready. I now confidently know this boat like the back of my hand. I’ve become a diesel mechanic, a plumber, an electrician, a navigator, a sailor.
What have you learned about yourself through this journey?
I’ve discovered I can handle any situation that comes up. It’s not if something breaks, but what breaks.
Why do you think your story has captivated millions of people?
Everyone’s working these insane hours, and the cost of everything is going up. More than ever. You can be making $150,000 and barely getting by. People see somebody who has broken out of that. For them, it’s inspiration.
How is Phoenix taking to boat life?
The first couple of days were rough for her. But it’s been so weird watching her. She gets along on the boat better than I do. It’s the coolest thing. She’s my best friend. I talk to her like she’s a human. We have full-on conversations.
What has been your scariest moment so far?
I locked myself in the engine compartment. That’s every sailor’s worst fear. It was my worst fear. It was the day after the rudder thing. I latched the hatch open and then a huge wave came and it slammed closed. And I heard it close. The feeling — “Oh, my God, it happened.” I fortunately had a wrench in there with me. I broke the hinges and it broke open.
And your most blissful moment?
Oh, man, there’s been a couple. The sunsets are crazy. Seeing the dolphins swim. Just hanging outside when it was becalmed. The ocean is always so violent, but it was so peaceful, like glass.
Steven Kurutz covers cultural trends, social media and the world of design for The Times.
The post Sailing to Hawaii, With a Cat and Minimal Experience appeared first on New York Times.
