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Meanwhile the Danish summer was going nuts - all month with temperatures of about 25°C. It was an experience with both concentrated training and sailing (in) two beautiful boats, which were also our "homes", combined with lots of socializing with other course participants from all parts of the country, teamwork, cooking together, etc. under the guidance of the two skippers Niels and Ann - made me want to sail even more, and taught me a lot I could use straight away.

It amuses me that when I do different manoeuvres, I still remember Ann's or Niels's exact words, as if I'm doing something in which I'm still clueless and simply do as I'm told.

The week got to an end all too soon (I went back later in the year to take the VHF course) and soon I was on my way headed south with a little fewer waypoints, but only sailed a few nautical miles before I brought to an anchor for the night. My plan was to see Valdemar's Castle's (Valdemars Slot) Yachting Museum, and was especially looking forward to seeing Svend Billesbølle's boat. (A big role model of mine. He and his books are nearly to "blame" for me being here.)

After mooring the boat at the small landing stage, I found Svend's boat outside. I spent the more part of a couple of hours studying it, and virtually relived the adventures of his books. For instance, I saw the repairs I had read about "again", (relived, edit) the pictures from his books etc. I took off without seeing anything else. I only came to see his boat. Would have loved to see it stored inside though. (In this way, I would have seen other things too. And have paid). Then it would last a whole lot longer. It's sad to see it fall into disrepair when you know its history. Shame on you.


I entered the Kiel Canal in the wrong floodgate, right in the ass of a mega tanker. In the tower they had a hard time spotting Trojka behind the tanker. "That small one there?", he had to stand up to spot it. "You don't have to pay for that today!". German service. Another kind of service was dealt to me six hours later at 02.30 a.m., when I was stopped: "Pleasure crafts are prohibited from sailing after dark!". In this business you learn something new every day, I thought to myself, and also this time escaped paying.

I remember coming home telling about all these naked people I had seen sailing around. What the f... is wrong with them since they must drop their pants (in order for them) to sail? Today I might add that it starts with your socks and t-shirt and ends with a bare ass. Maybe it has something to do with your cockpit being just as private as your bathroom at home, or a hunt for total freedom? What do I know. I'm now a member of that club myself.

I had thoroughly studied the nautical charts and tide tables to reach the North Sea alive and well. I had nothing but an enjoyable time until reaching Heligoland. The wind was turning into a breeze and then some, when I decided not to sail to harbour but instead make use of the good southwest wind towards Esbjerg. Without an autopilot and after 21 hours of sailing, I finally sailed to harbour and went directly to order a Furlex rolling foresail system. I had made a promise to myself during those 21 hours: To never again manually hoist and lower the foresail. I don't know how many times I have done that already. And in a driverless boat, jumping about at random in the powers of the waves, whereas a great deal of them went for me. And it truely has made everything much easier.

I spent the rest of the summer doing a bit of sailing. At the same time, I couldn't quite figure out how my situation was because I carried on seeing Anne and came in their home on a daily basis, where I spent more and more nights. It was getting hard having your cake and eating it too, and I wasn't being fair to her either. So when she eventually forced me to make a decision, it was a relief to both her and I, and I really got started sailing. It was a nice summer and late summer. I actually waited all till December, where in Esbjerg we experienced a hurricane: After an unsteady night on board, first voluntarily - and a little later on, it was impossible to get ashore - pontoon bridges became flying bridges. Some experiences richer and without any damages, she got out of the water on December 5.

After a wonderful Christmas together with Anne and the kids - where again we had not set the boundaries for our continued relationship, where we carried on as usual - the final break-up came at New Year('s Eve). I left bed to see if my brother-in-law was still celebrating, and from there I went home to myself. In the morning, Anne understandably felt a little used and let down, when the kids were hers and brought things to "a final end".

To Page 5

From Esbjerg, Denmark to Tahiti aboard a Junker 22