perspective you've shaped for years is broken suddenly? You did everything to keep it safe and sound; you kept it clear from dust. Chop chop… get a new one! With your new perspective you go to the next pub, and tell the waiter what your problem is. The first thing you get is a beer. Laugh and talk to yourself: "Well, that's what we can build on!"
Basically that's what I do. I do it every day on my journey. I constantly react in a new way on everything that would appear as a mid-catastrophe through the old dusty lens. Symbolically, I use thousands of perspectives, which adjust to the specific situation every day. Certainly, it's incredibly exhausting - I can't even remember texting my body and my mind in such a merciless way ever.


Irene, my first contact in Laredo harbor

But what I can see is fantastic and that's why I won't stop. There are many days that I kneel down in shit but I won't stop laughing. I will never stop ordering another beer. No. Never!
I've always wanted to be an adventurer - a crazy one. Have I ever wanted to be someone who is finding to himself? No J But that is exactly what happens, damn! It happens inevitably and unstoppable. You are shipping on the rough Atlantic, pee yourself in one more time unintentionally and think about everything and more you can imagine. I think about stuff like prejudice, thoughts in general, interpretations, society, justification, self-confidence, courage, trust, leniency, caution, overall view, the meaning of terms like luck or accident, hope or belief. Some time . . .
At some time you start to talk to yourself, to build up those words, to find their meaning logical and sensible. Like a clockwork mechanism…. One gear wheel turns into the other one.


Atmosphere in front of Laredo

Wednesday, 3rd October 2012: Heading towards Laredo / North of Spain
It's been just 20 miles today, sailing from Santander. Above there's a cloudy sky that reminds me more and more of my sky in Tönning these days. I miss nothing . . . no cloud, no wave. The colors seem to fade and I watch the Bay of Biscay like a wolf, standing in front of a bear, weighing up carefully what my chances are. Forty miles ago, some sailors told me that Laredo's marina would be a special one. New, big, huge space under the roof and a nice management - that's what I was supposed to find there. "2,5 miles" is what my GPS tells me and I head towards the coast . . . behind that rock over there has to be the gate. A great bay appears. I gear towards south. The feeling in my stomach gets bad as I can recognize the harbor walls through my binoculars. Tears flow into my eyes. Everything in me knows that it is over today.
It's the end for 2012!!!


Desalinating my boat with Pedro

I love this boat that much that I can hardly imagine what's coming now. Sabrina gets a short message: "I got to be in your arms . . . is everything as it should be with us? I'm frightened to come home:" She calls me to give green light. She takes some pressure off me. Ok! Like a controlled body I screw into the harbor to the landing stage that seems to be just good enough for my last landing. When my hand reaches the bridge it feels special. Even my hand knows this is the right decision. I can feel the tiredness everywhere in my body and my head falls down for a short moment. Sailing your miles without any money is one thing, but to fight against the Atlantic and the Bay of Biscay is another, much more exhausting part in my game.
My head rises and I take a short view around. The big glass building over there has to be the harbor management. Absolutely determined I get my documents and walk towards it. It's a stranded, dirty, beardy guy who has nothing, and just starts to walk as he has made a decision.


Indoor camp

The first thing I meet in the second floor of this huge administration building is a kind lady named Irene, who is sitting behind her desk. I stay calm and explain my situation. After six minutes she starts to calculate on her machine. "You want to store your boat for eight months?" Antonio, the big boss joins. "He doesn't pay anything!" Actually, sixteen minutes are over now.
Antonio and Pedro, the marina's executives, stand behind me. "Let's go, buddy. Let's prepare everything!" In the evening, the masts are down, the boat is empty, and Sabrina and my friend "Doc" start their computers at home. Remember: it's Wednesday, 3rd October 2012.
On Friday, 5th October 2012, I can feel the skin of my whole family in the afternoon.


Friday, 3 pm: The beard is gone!

It's Tuesday, 9th October 2012

My body collapses a bit, I didn't feel well yesterday. My two different worlds are too different indeed. The transition was too fast. It seems like my body needs some time. Suddenly, I'm safe here: warm and dry. It's a deep relaxation that I haven't known for such a long time. My thoughts are there: out there.

Let's make the finale in 2013!


Sab, Nils and Torge picking me up from the airport