I've rarely met as funny, crazy and deeply moving French guys as those two. I cannot stop smiling whenever I think about the moment the hale "late sixty" Patrice throws his plates in the sea, when I offer to help him wash the dishes. When finally all of us throw the rest of the dishes after the plates and the pan starts drifting like a ghostship, our abs hurt of laughing. Christophe's shirt is full of wine splash, when Patrice's face starts exploding of laughter. "Washing?" he asks. "When we meet again at the same place next year, the stuff will be clean!"
Patrice gives me an envelope this morning. "Open it when you are on sea." Christophe joins later, carrying one of his canons to shoot a salve while I'm leaving the harbor. When my casts are off, I get frightened. The canon is loud! First thing I do is turn my head to check if something is sinking on the other side of the harbor. No - all right ... event the capitanerie is still good! He must have abstained from using a lead ball. The stream carries me out of of the harbor like a mother does her baby. I can see the two guys running along the stream mouth to shoot another salve and take some pictures. We wave one more time.


The ocean is huge . . .

People often ask me if I go sightseeing to discover landscapes, places and towns. Usually my answer is "I don't have time for that". But the truth is - you are my sighseeing. All of you! Whenever I meet you, I get all I need to be happy. This is the tour. You are the tour!
The sea is calm and glassy after a mile. The outboard motor booms and for me the one important thing is to stay safe for the next 65 miles. There's a fulminate wave breaking in my sight that got all my respect. I know my boat would not survive to approach too close to this breaking and I've never swum a breaking like this. It is really loud, so I can hear it in a mile distance, even of the outboard motor's noise. I can't believe this. I remember last year when Sabrina was sitting next to me I could hardly hear a word she said. I seem to be safe out there now. My boat is like an island that stands by me - safe and sound. It's getting monotonous to be on tour without a sail and a wave. After 40 miles, my thoughts get interrupted. There's a new sound - what's that? After a moment, I realize there is a helicopter wheeling over me. It's white and painted with big numbers, but it doesn't seem military. At its second wheel, it comes close to me and is right above me now.


Passing Arzal canal

I can see the pilots gesturing at me, but I can't see their intention. "Get your spyglass and direct them to fly a third round" I think. It works ... they are back! "Go back! Go back" Now I can see that the guys would really prefer me to turn around. But why? Is there severe weather to be or can Arcachon not be touched? The pilots lift a sign saying "CH6" and I tell them I don't have a walkie talkie. I decide to stop for a while - the helicopter disappears. "They got you on their radar, Andreas. Think!" It's impossible to turn around for 40 miles. I wouldn't make that - it's already 2 p.m. Tinuca!! I call Tinuca in Laredo / Spain. She would call the harbor manager, Antonio. I know he has contacts to Mutiku and the boss of "Oriol" Marina has contacts to France. A call cascade! Within six minutes I make half of Europe move. They are all really worried about me and I thank God I can rely on them whenever I need help. At the same time, a catamaran appears out of the nowhere. The marina called it. It was the closest ship to me. The guys are really nice and order to go back for one and a half miles as I would be in an active ballistic curve of the marine. Shit! I give the all-clear to Tinuca as fast as I can to stop the call cascade. The catamaran guides me to an "off position" one and a half miles away. Just 15 minutes later, the guys show green light. I can go on and thank them. Hopefully, I won't get shot in Arcachon - I feel like I'm part of all Europe's ballistic curves.


What's going on?

The day goes on peacefully, but I'm getting worried when I reach the first approach buoy of Arcachon at 8:30 p.m. The sky above me is black. It's even more than black - I'm about to experience the heaviest thunder storm I've ever seen in my entire life. I can only guess why this must happen while I'm at the most dangerous point of Europe and my journey. I can't change it. I have to deal with this now! The clouds are formatting - it's starting. I can't tell which direction the wind will choose. It's everywhere around me. Now I see the breaking in front of the harbor. His is what I have to pass? Everywhere is water breaking - shit! Ok, I fix everything I can find on board. I have to be fast now. I mustn't make any mistakes. I pocket the outboard motor's coverage in my jacket. If I have to go down there in a wave, I can at least rescue the outboard motor, so that it won't be flooded. Nevertheless, it must do without its cooling for a moment. We will see- off we go! I'm lucky - the first gusts come from the west and I'm pushed over the Arcachon water with three knots speed. The sky is still black and I can see the famous yellow wall of thunder storm. It's filled with rain and power. The wind is going from strength to strength. I dipsy-doodle between the breaking, up to ten knots over ground - despite the three knots reverse flow. The anchoring of my front mast breaks. As I was not fast enough with the backstay, I can't get up to fix anything. Now what's loose stays loose and will get lost.


My speech in Laredo

The outboard motor has given up long ago. It was out of petrol and went up. I can't see anything. It's raining cats and dogs and the airs is filled with a thick yellow mist. I have to keep an eye to the buoys and my heading. The gateway is long, but suddenly I'm through it. I made it! The sea is getting calm - I'm over it! It's 9 p.m. when I arrive at the inside of the basin. My sight is really bad - I wouldn't find the harbor once again. Only when the breaking gets calm, I take the bearing of a beach and I know I can't sleep in spite of being tired. The water will come back in the night and destroy my boat if I'm uncareful. I'm wet, so the first thing I do is to change my clothes and drink half a bottle of wine. That's good!
Wearing layers I lie in the cockpit of the kayak and cover my head with a plastic tarp. Just one hour of sleep… please - just one hour! Few hours later the water comes back. The sound of the waves wakes me up. My body hurts and trembles. The boat bears all of a sudden. The waves are high, though the sea is calm. Everything is wet again, so I approach the darkness. I can see a mooring buoy. I change my clothes again and disappear under the plane. When it's getting light in a few hours, I will enter Arcachon's harbor.
I've seen things out there I wouldn't want to see again. Not even for thousands of Euro. But once you are in it, you're in it.Maybe you laugh about my feeling - but the boat knows I'm here. The sea knows I'm here. They all know I will continue.


Saint Malo's harbor gateway

It's Tuesday, 25th of June, Saint Malo

After sailing the sandbank in front of Royan, being watched by an oceangoing tug… after Dieter from Heilbronn nearly bricked my boat in Saint Nazaire with his 30 tons motorboat in a boost bin I finally sailed the canal of Arzal to Saint Malo. Just to have some holidays. Just holidays. I bet you won't believe this. This tour brings something new every day.

I'm on my way home!