Right now my boats name is Nuwa, a chinese goddess. She’s sleek, clean and elegant. It’s a Beneteau First 30 from 1978, strong hull and a good balance of safety and performance. A pure retro beauty. The names story is interesting. Summary. Nuwa is a prominent figure in chinese mythology, patches the holes in heaven with 5 colorful stones and uses a turtoise leg as a pillar. Noticable is the scary parallel of patching something leaking on a sailboat. I’m a big fan of the epic save-humanity message and that’s gonna stay an integral part of my boats character and charm – Dreaming! I’ll just add a rough and careless pirate site. Jack is gonna be born out of a conscious dream but till then facts rule the game. Philosophy and romantic is all good when you can allow it. We’ll get on our way soon and safe, that’s priority! Right now i am moored at the pontoon moulin blanc in brest, cramped together like wild animals with other sailors. wifi animals. the misty morning breathes together with my steaming coffee cup and unite with the melting clouds to an idea worth persuing. i remind myself of that, waking up clamm in my 4 fleece jackets. my days are packed with Aluminium cans and nerdy mariners chat. i hammer and drill and i spend a good sum of money on what i call my pharmacy for i see Jack as my patient and child. 

I hope you enjoyed that romantic story, it was pure imagination. tonight i sleep at my friends house because my feet were pierced with dorns, desperately hurrying me to dry shelter, internet and coffee. My boat is anchored in exchange for a pack of beer, all the repairs i managed summarise well in the first evening on my own boat. I’d like to tell you it’s glorious unfolding.

Inspired by books of great sailors i set to work with great enthusiasm. Wine splashes over the white interior when i push the cork with rebellious manner and great pressure inside the bottle. I put a corkscrew on my mental wishlist. my finger is slammed blue by the drunken hammer. mechanic reggae plays thru my phone, which is slammed into a plastic cup. its a rather bizarre scene. cannabis smoke hanging down to the table, my splashy 2 euro wine in one hand, a hammer in the other hand. deep breath – puuuuuuuuh. feels good huh? a nail between my teeth. just afterwards i flush overcooked potatoes down my throat honoured by onions and carrots from LIDL. i sink down between my sails with a develish smile. i am deeply happy and try to understand why… surely, success wasn’t my guest tonight. blue fingers, glue still dripping on my cushions. obviously perfection is a boring and helpless try in getting happy, i note. content in unperfectionist and authentic creation. i prefer that. deeply proud.

I just ordered some solar panels and am now setting up my blog – smiling at every genuine step. false action out of outside expectation is another no-go in getting happy. i prefer chaos and hope. as i get kidnapped into sleep by the bouncy sea i sail a newborn pirate dream in heavy waves of deep red wine, badly patched sails and dolphins jumping to gain highfives. destination? manrique’s understanding of beauty, a spanish job, lots of windy fish and black sanded surf. Lanzarote my paradise.