The Early Threads
Some stories feel inevitable in hindsight — as if all the threads were always quietly pulling in the same direction. The story of Gauchos del Mar is one of them. Two brothers. A childhood shaped by the ocean. A restless curiosity for what lies beyond the map’s edge. And, eventually, a body of work that proves adventure can be a powerful force for protection.
Julián and Joaquín Azulay grew up in Buenos Aires, a sprawling city more than 400 kilometres from the sea. Yet the ocean was never far from their lives. Surfing ran in the family. Their father, Jorge, was one of Argentina’s early surfing pioneers in the 1960s, and both parents shared a deep love for the water. Summers were spent chasing waves in Mar del Plata and along the Brazilian coast; the rest of the year was city life, school, and dreaming about the next swell.
Choosing the Long Way Home
By their early twenties, surfing was already part of who they were — but it wasn’t yet a career. Julián was studying architecture. Joaquín was pursuing business administration. The path ahead looked sensible, structured, predictable. Then, in 2010, while visiting their older brother in Los Angeles, a different idea began to form.
Instead of flying home to Argentina, what if they drove? What if they followed the Pacific coastline south, country by country, wave by wave, all the way back to Buenos Aires?
With no grand plan beyond curiosity, they cancelled their flights, bought a car, a small camera, and a GoPro, and pointed themselves toward the horizon. What followed was a 403-day journey through 13 countries and more than 30,000 kilometres of coastline — a slow, immersive expedition that would quietly change the direction of their lives.
Becoming Gauchos del Mar
It was during this journey, while travelling through Baja California, that the name Gauchos del Mar was born. Friends began calling them “cowboys of the sea,” a nod to their Argentine roots, nomadic lifestyle, surfboards strapped to the roof, and their constant ritual of drinking yerba mate while searching for waves. The name stuck — not just because it sounded good, but because it captured something essential about how they moved through the world.
That first expedition was never meant to become a film. The brothers documented everything simply to remember it — for themselves, and for the family they hoped to have one day. Financing the trip meant adapting fast: selling photos and footage, painting boats, cleaning hulls, trading work for meals and places to sleep. It was uncomfortable at times, humbling often, and deeply formative. Along the way, they became more aware of the environmental and social realities facing the coastlines they loved.
From Journey to Purpose
When they finally returned to Buenos Aires, they sat down with friends and began shaping the footage into a documentary. Gauchos del Mar premiered in 2012 and, to their surprise, went on to win nine international film awards. More importantly, it revealed something neither brother had fully articulated before: this was the work they wanted to do. Exploring remote coastlines. Telling stories that connect people to place. Using adventure as a gateway to conservation.
From there, the path unfolded organically but with growing intention. Patagonia followed. Then Africa. Long, demanding journeys that stripped life back to essentials — weather, tides, human connection, and the fragile balance between nature and pressure. With each project, their filmmaking sharpened, their expeditions became more ambitious, and their environmental focus clearer.
The Turning Point: Península Mitre
One expedition, however, would become a turning point.
Península Mitre, at the easternmost tip of Tierra del Fuego, is one of those places that feels like the end of the world. Rugged, isolated, and largely untouched, it is not somewhere you pass through casually. Julián and Joaquín spent 53 days hiking through it, carrying heavy packs and surfboards, navigating brutal terrain and unpredictable weather. The goal wasn’t comfort or spectacle — it was understanding the land.
That journey did more than result in another film. It helped reignite a stalled legal proposal that ultimately led to the protection of 680,000 hectares of sea and 300,000 hectares of land. It proved that storytelling, when rooted in respect and perseverance, can help safeguard wild places.
Witnesses, Not Tourists
That philosophy underpins everything Gauchos del Mar do. They are not tourists chasing postcard moments. They are witnesses — to beauty, yes, but also to vulnerability. Their films consistently remind viewers that even the most remote places are not immune to the pressures of climate change, overfishing, and industrial exploitation.
Now, that long arc leads them further south than ever before.
Antarctica: Domain One
Antarctica: Domain One, screening as part of the Ocean Film Festival World Tour 2026, follows Julián and Joaquín into one of the planet’s last true wildernesses. The film traces a sailing, trekking and surfing expedition through Antarctica’s vast, ice-carved landscapes — a place that feels both impossibly distant and urgently relevant. Narrated by Kelly Slater, it balances awe with unease, beauty with responsibility.
As the brothers move through this extreme environment, they encounter a fragile ecosystem under growing threat — from warming waters to industrial fishing pressure on krill, a keystone species for the entire Antarctic food chain. The film’s mission extends beyond the search for waves: it highlights the urgent need to establish a 460,000-square-kilometre Marine Protected Area, reinforcing the idea that Antarctica doesn’t belong to any one nation — it belongs to all of us.
A Catalyst for Change
Sixteen years after their first idea of chasing waves home, Gauchos del Mar have become something much bigger than surfers with cameras. They are storytellers, explorers, and advocates for the ocean — proving that adventure can be a catalyst for change.
Seeing Antarctica: Domain One on the big screen isn’t just about witnessing an extraordinary journey. It’s about being reminded of what’s still possible when curiosity meets commitment — and why protecting our blue planet has never mattered more.
You’d be crazy not to see this one on the big screen!
Grab those tickets and a bunch of mates and we’ll see you there at the Ocean Film Festival 2026
