We sail for North Shields today. Barbara joined me yesterday. Together we had a smooth cycle ride south of Amsterdam along Dutch canals to Haarlem and the ferry terminal at Ijmuiden. Since 2022 this crossing has been our way back home after Krankenhaus. For various reasons we sail this way this year too to get to Muncaster. So there are ‘only’ four more days of cycling left, until we arrive at Krank 26.

Sailing was always part of the whole cycling to Krankenhaus adventure. Crossing the sea is a welcome break from cycling. Looking out across the endless waves open up inner horizons too. Thoughts flicker on the foam, daydreams wing like seagulls around.

On calm crossings the North Sea looks so innocent, so peaceful. But offshore platforms split the horizon, remind me of the industrialised seas of the world. Giant container ships sail by, shipping the wealth of only a few across the waves. The waters of the North Sea and beyond are deeply and brutaly commercialised.

I remember the first time sailing into Harwich on a grey overcast morning. Seeing all the giant cranes and countless containers stacked as far as the eye can see at Felixstowe in the bleary dawn felt surreal. All the movement seemed ghostly from afar. This vast site of commercial trade looked like a megalomaniac temple of a strange species. As there must have been at least some workers on site, though Felixstowe Container Port looked nothing like human.

As we sail across the waters we tend to forget about the deep underneath, the power that lurks and waits under the waves. We think we rule it all, but we do nothing the like. As the oceans warm and rise in our age of human hubris, the waters could put us back into perspective. Our vulnerability might be what makes us what we really are.

So while darkness falls over the North Sea on our way to Krankenhaus tonight, there rises another hope from the deep, washes over beaches, cliffs and coasts there and beyond. It dawns from the shallows and sands.

The waves rule us, have us at their mercy. Sea power is all around, overwhelming and dangerous. And once I accept being a small blue thing among this vastness, there might be a lighthouse out there too. Or many, many more. Luring me on against all odds into the beauty of the unknown.

Christoph x