The crew's only point of contact with the rest of the world is a single daily satellite email that connects the ship to its headquarters in Germany. Phone signal is still at least six days away.

Unsure if they will now be allowed to dock anywhere, the Avontuur sails on towards the Caribbean. As the ship nears Guadeloupe, Giulia sits on deck clutching her phone, waiting for a signal. When the call finally connects she explodes in tears.

"What are you going to do?" Giulia's partner asks.

"I have no idea about anything at all," she replies. "Nobody does."

Normally arrival in a new port means loading and unloading cargo, shore leave, and ordering provisions. For the crew it should be an opportunity to rest, walk on dry land, make phone calls, send messages, and take time for themselves.

"If you have a ship you are sharing with 15 people - you are never more than a few metres away from all the other humans you are living with," Giulia says.

There seems to be little activity at Guadeloupe port, but eventually staff wearing surgical masks approach. They ask the Avontuur to depart Guadeloupe as soon as possible, leaving the ship's crew in disbelief.

Denied shore leave after more than three weeks at sea and still reeling from the news the world is in lockdown, the crew are concerned about what lies ahead. Their next port of call, Honduras, could be as much as a fortnight away.

"Is it really wise to keep going?" Giulia says.

In the weeks that follow, while people on dry land are denied the ability to mix freely, the Avontuur's crew are prevented from stepping ashore at most ports.

It becomes clear any planned arrivals and departures to and from the ship - including Giulia's plan to leave in Mexico - are off the table. It also seems unlikely anyone will be able to set foot on dry land at any port, until the Avontuur is back in Germany.

This means sourcing food becomes increasingly difficult, leaving Giulia worried about how she will continue to feed the 15-strong crew, now confined to a space roughly the size of a basketball court - and among whom tensions are growing.

Giulia's thoughts return repeatedly to her loved ones. She drafts a message, ready to post on Instagram.

"It feels quite surreal to be confined on this floating bubble," she writes. "I hope you are all safe and sound out there."

Sailing: Taking a job on a whim left me stranded at sea for 188 days