7-13th December 2024 It was 18;30, the sun went down quickly and we sailed out for the first hour in calm winds, the city lights glowing behind us for long enough to question whether my antibiotics were working and if we should turn back… A couple of phone calls later we decided to continue which…

24th October-7th December 2024 After a few sunny days in Garachico which Niels made a badass new anchor out of some pieces of a steel bridge, Atlanta was filled with suitcases and rucksacks and fruit and beans and we took my Papa on the sail from north to west of the island to pick up…

Isla Graciosa- Tenerife 6th-24th October 2024 Isla Graciosa is tiny, with a fleet of tourist catamarans that take over the anchorage with competitively loud music playing over the top of one another, while grandmas in leopard print bikinis, Germans in rash vests and drunk English folks swim around in the peaceful sharky water. Maybe a…

1st-6th October 2024 As always, we had big plans to leave at first light on the 1st October. At around 2 pm Niels was still wrestling with the Genoa after having adjusted the rig, and had missed the outgoing tide, so although the anchor was up and the sail almost too, the journey began with…

Mid June- The last day of September 2024 And so, it came to be that we spent the three hottest months of the year between two castles, on a river bordering Portugal and Spain. I’d heard of the ‘Guadiana glue’ from other sailors, actually before we even left Germany, at my bar job in Kappeln.…

Spain to Portugal to Spain 01 June – 3rd July Dark red blended into indigo sweeping across the sky in huge paint brush strokes. If I could choose to arrive just before sunset I always would, the boat tucked softly to bed under a rainbow blanket. Just before dark is cutting it fine for comfortably…

26th April- 31st May- It rained and rained and rained. Through misted windows the bright green valley flourished, loving every droplet. Rhythmic shouts of effort and enthusiasm echo across the river day and night from local rowing teams, creating a tribal kind of background mantra.   We slept long in the mornings, eating slow breakfasts…

Crossing the Bay of Biscay, 22nd– 25th April 2024 22nd– It was midnight, the rumble of the warming engine gently shook, charging the air with smoke and anticipation. Sailing clothes were on, position lights on, ropes coming off, and in that moment, Charlotte- who had arrived only hours earlier- questioningly held up a piece of…

Harbour Politics, Binchi and an Immortal Mackeral. October-April 2024. As the late autumn winds arrived carrying waves from brewing storms across the Atlanic, we were immensely grateful to be bobbing safely in Port Rhu, It hadn’t been easy getting a place, and the anchorage was getting more wild with every day that crept towards winter.…