Ipapashiwe: 30.11.2019
Wake up, have breakfast, prepare the ship. We're leaving around noon. This time for real. We have a lot of wind and quite a few waves. Somehow coming from different directions, so it's quite rough and rumbling. In the beginning, everyone is doing fine for a while. Then one by one, they all break down.
We're all sitting on deck, trying to stare at the horizon. But when night falls, the fun is over. 5 out of 6 passengers have to throw up multiple times, including skipper Birgit and her dog Luna. Only Simon is relatively spared, but he's also pale as a ghost. We have a whole bag of sick bags ready. The next morning, the supply is exhausted. It hit me surprisingly hard too. I can only keep breakfast down, everything else comes right back up shortly after consumption. As I get weaker and weaker, I try a cup of electrolyte solution, but that also has to go. At night, I'm dehydrated and exhausted.
In order not to fly off the boat, we have to hold on to the benches for hours or spread ourselves out, which eventually becomes exhausting. It feels like being trapped in the amusement ride 'Breakdance' and we've been going for hours without a break and without an end in sight. Late at night, I try to get some sleep below deck, which luckily works out somewhat. In sleep, the tension temporarily subsides and I regain my strength. Every few hours, I get up to help the others with the night watch and take a few sips, both with moderate success. Eventually, I give up and just lie down. It's best to lie down, the body can relax and calm down. I seriously wonder if it was worth it, and I desperately hope for improvement soon, because I can't hold out much longer.
We made good progress under sail yesterday and got visited by some more dolphins. The engine has been running since last night.
The sleep did me good and I'm a bit more relaxed, but still dehydrated. A few sips of water, two cookies, and a bite of banana, that's all I can handle for now. Then back to lying down. Unfortunately, I'm still not able to help the crew. But the guys are holding their own and Nina is already feeling a bit better than me. She's the only one wearing the anti-seasickness patch. It didn't spare her yesterday though.
In the afternoon, I admire Simon for cooking vegetable curry. I get a little bit panicked just thinking about walking between bed and deck on the boat. I eat a bowl, but it doesn't feel good yet. My stomach is gurgling and clacking, feeling like it's floating in my belly. Bright side: we were visited by a few dolphins and a turtle.
Unfortunately, I'm still unable to take photos. Towards evening, it gets better and I can participate in the second night watch 'normally'. We start with a 2-hour rhythm. So 2 hours of sleep, 2 hours of watch. Eating and drinking slowly become interesting again, and the starry sky somewhat makes up for the experience. The moon only rises shortly before the sun, so the nights are very, very dark, but clear and, as I said, with many stars. I can only identify Orion's Belt and the Big Dipper. Hopefully, that will change over the next few weeks.
By now, I'm 'rocked in' and my cold has almost disappeared thanks to the seasickness. The sun warms the air and lifts the mood. We are currently very calm in the water (maximum boat tilt: 10°). That's a nice change.
I still find it hard to fully trust my body again after what it did to me on the first day. Or did I do it to myself? Anyway, I was definitely looking forward to the pasta with pesto in the afternoon.
Now that I've finally gotten used to the rocking, Birgit tells me about land sickness... The counterpart to seasickness, when you have to get used to a stable, non-swaying ground. I'm thrilled.
Sailing gives me mixed feelings. We're motoring about 3/4 of the time, otherwise we wouldn't make any progress. That somewhat defeats the purpose of traveling by sailboat. Additionally, there are quite a few ships, ferries, freighters, cruise ships, and other sailboats traveling under motor, causing noise and pollution in the ocean. But that's just how it is now.
I'm very grateful for my long merino underwear. Not only because it adjusts to the different temperatures really well, but also because I've been wearing it for about 3 weeks straight, day and night. And apparently, I don't stink horribly yet. The opportunity to wash it just hasn't presented itself so far, and the time on the boat has unexpectedly extended. I'm looking forward to having the opportunity to wash on Lanzarote.
I'm also very glad to have brought my audiobooks on an SD card on my phone. Reading is still out of the question. The book 'I'm Off Then' by Hape Kerkeling fits thematically and is very entertaining.
In the evening, I can finally say that I'm feeling better. I feel like a normal person whose stomach isn't upside down. However, the night watches in the 2-hour rhythm are becoming more exhausting because we sleep less during the day. Once you've handed over the watch, brushed your teeth, changed clothes, and fallen asleep, you get woken up again right away. We'll soon switch to a different rhythm.
For a while, we were able to sail again and got visited by more dolphins. Also, things got lively around noon when we ran into an almost invisible fishing line. The fishing equipment is usually illuminated at night, but during the day we actually overlooked all the mini buoys. The line with fishing hooks got wrapped around our rudder, and Simon had to go for a swim to free it. Fortunately, that happened while sailing, the engine is less sensitive to that kind of thing.
Today, I declared it a laundry day (for me, not my clothes), as it was starting to get uncomfortable. It turned out to be more difficult than expected. We briefly stopped the boat and at a low speed, I hung out at the back of the boat and got myself wet. Then I had a more or less thorough cat wash on the rocking bathing platform. Drying off and changing outside with one hand is a new challenge. Because on the boat, there's a golden rule: One hand for the ship, one hand for yourself. Always. Not holding on is not an option. My hair was tangled and could only be washed properly with 4 portions of shampoo. It still feels damn good in the end.
For sunset, we had a little photoshoot and then another wonderful starry sky with a few shooting stars.
Since last night, we have shifts in a 4-hour rhythm. Much better. You get a full deep sleep phase. At least if you fall asleep in time. And you don't have to go out into the dark, still rather uncomfortable night as often. The others wake you up shortly before the start of your shift, then everyone puts on all sorts of layers below deck and puts on their life jackets, quickly fills in the logbook, and only then do you go above deck. Up there, we always clip ourselves in at night so we can't fall out.
At night, I'm still wearing long underwear, hiking pants, merino socks, thin fleece sweater, thick fleece sweater, rain jacket, scarf, headband, and gloves. Sometimes even rain pants for protection against the wind. Supposedly it's going to get warm soon, Birgit keeps saying. It's kind of a running joke now.
Today I spent a lot of time in the sun and got a slight sunburn. It was worth it. I also listened to a lot of Hape Kerkeling's audiobook. Our travel reports are probably not that different (in terms of content). However, he has more interesting thoughts and very nice insights of the day that I clearly still lack. And of course, he can write better. But at least I'm trying. I'm also not nearly at a point where I could find myself or anyone else. Simon and I have deep conversations about goals, society, and the future during the night watch. Something could be made out of that, but my sieve brain doesn't remember well enough, and I can speak about these topics better than write. The fact is, we don't feel quite comfortable in our current place in society. We actually have a rough idea of what we would like instead. The big question is, how do we get there and what do we have to leave behind on the way. End of rambling.
Today, Birgit baked very delicious bread, and apparently, a whale was spotted. Tomorrow, we will arrive in Lanzarote, and I'm looking forward to both the island and continue sailing.
Interestingly, my appetite has changed quite a bit on the boat. At the beginning of the journey (and even at home), my favorite breakfast was porridge, and I drank about 1 liter of tea per day. Since the (real) departure, just the thought of both makes me slightly nauseous.
Land in sight! Since the morning hours, we've been sailing along the island heading south, to Marina Rubicon. In three days, we're expected to continue.
In Lanzarote, surprisingly, it's shorts weather, which makes working on the boat much more pleasant. We completely empty everything, clean (inside and outside), and then everything has to be stored again. However, the boat was already fully stocked with provisions for one week in my opinion. Now we have to pack for 3, or rather 4 weeks as a precaution. But we'll manage...
Our bedding is being washed, and our bodies are undergoing a comprehensive cleaning with all the works in the harbor. Cheers to warm showers!
In the evening, we go out for dinner with fellow skipper Ola, the ultimate sea dog, and his girlfriend, and then we fall into bed, very tired in a less rocking bed.
Sleep in. Clean up. Write a shopping list. Take inventory. There is a lot to do. Nina, the boys, and I spend hours grocery shopping in the nearby town. After the third supermarket, we got almost everything on the list. Maybe I'll post the shopping list later when we know how wrong we were. However, we bought so much that we had to take a taxi from the town to the harbor three times...
Today, we couldn't stow everything yet, there's chaos everywhere. In the boat, on top of the boat, we even occupied the jetty in front of the boat.
Can someone please explain the difference between a boat and a ship?
In the evening, I washed my clothes by hand and hung them up, then went to bed quite early again.
We're having leftovers for dinner. We bought so much that not everything fits in the refrigerator. We were able to expand our storage boxes (plastic boxes from the fruit vendor) from 4 to 10, as we got 6 from the supermarket as a gift. Today, we emptied and washed them all, and then they had to find their place in the boat in a game of Tetris. One box was trimmed and stacked boxes were connected with cable ties. When we rock back and forth between wind and waves again, they shouldn't fly through the whole boat. According to shelf life, sensitivity, and accessibility, we'll then store the provisions in compartments, boxes, and nets.
In the afternoon, the crew has free time, Nina and I visit the handcraft market in the marina and buy a beautiful dream catcher for our bunk. Afterward, I go to the nearby beach and lie down among the other Germans and English people. The beach is a completely artificially created bay for tourists. So I don't take a photo. Instead, I'm waiting for the Caribbean. For those interested, just open the next travel catalog on page 42. The water is colder than expected, but it still feels good to float for a moment. Now I'm writing in my diary in the sand and see that the notebook is already more than half full. So I'll need a new one before the crossing.
After packing everything, the purchased food looks smaller again, and we make some impulsive panic purchases. I'm curious to see how it will actually turn out. Some things we counted meticulously (63 apples, half an apple per person per day), but most of it was estimated by feeling. Fruits and vegetables will probably start to go bad after one week. Bread will either become dry or moldy. It will be exciting. Tomorrow we're starting, wish us luck!