So it can go.

The next morning, I set an alarm clock for shortly before 7:00 am. I want to be present at the shower house in Alcaidesa Marina early in the morning. It is still dark. My roommate is not there, so I can pack my backpack undisturbed. I walk through Gibraltar at dawn. There are already some cars coming from Gibraltar to work here. I walk across the airport runway and enjoy the view.

On the way to the marina, I keep an eye out for a cardboard box that will serve as a sign. I sit on the bench in front of the house at the end of pontoons 1-12 and design my sign. It is still very quiet and cold here.

The first ones slowly come for a shower and their morning routine. I greet anyone who doesn't radiate complete avoidance. Most are friendly, many go in a different direction, but wish me luck. A German is interested and wants to recommend me further. He knows some people who want to go to the Canary Islands. An American, Trever, sits down next to me. He seems serious and asks me to introduce my sailing experience. I explain myself. He might be interested. He is still waiting for the response from two crew members who want to come in a few days. Because he is alone, it would be possible for me to join as well. If the chemistry is right. I should come to him later. He is at pontoon 10. I recognize his boat by the red-blue-white ARC flag. Those who will cruise across the Atlantic as a rally in January have such a flag. Over 60 boats will then start together from the Canary Islands towards the Caribbean. The only catch: Trever won't sail from La Linea for another two weeks. But at least the first fish on the hook.

In the morning, I take my backpack to Ineke's boat and take a break to have breakfast. Then I go to the city to take care of some basic supplies for Ineke's boat. In the afternoon, I sit in various places in the marina. I try to be completely relaxed and not to be too much in search mode. I am present.

Then I sit down again at a crucial point in front of the marina restaurant. There is generally not much going on during the day. An old, limping sailor walks his blind dog and starts a conversation with me. Marcel has been in La Linea with his boat for two years already. He has often escaped death and now lacks the motivation for a new adventure. With some youthful energy to repair and clean his boat, he would be ready to set sail again. I take a non-binding look at his boat with Marie, a fellow Frenchwoman who is also looking for a boat. There is really a lot to do. This won't be my adventure. I say goodbye politely to Marcel. He laughs.

Then it happens suddenly. The gate of pontoon 11 is open. I stroll in with no expectations. I see two young women on the pier in front of a large catamaran. I ask them if they might be going to the Canary Islands. They confirm and refer to Serril. The Frenchman in his mid-40s with a ponytail and glasses is the captain, and he and his French colleague Masa are delivering the boat from Greece to the Caribbean. Elia and Julia from Catalonia, around my age, are sailing with them. And I - I can join them. At least until Gran Canaria. No further questions. We agree to meet the next morning to prepare for the departure on Friday. Shopping, getting everything ready, and checking again. This will be my first sailing trip on the Atlantic.

I call Merlin and share my success. I spend the evening on Ineke's boat. We have a good evening together. I am excited and a little surprised that it's happening so quickly.

https://youtu.be/CHABVxgHM4g