Ten days later and I am still here in Brunsbüttel…
And for a sailor this can bring on all manner of thoughts, releasing hidden shadows and fears of failure.
One of the many disadvantages of being a single-handed sailor is the necessity of total self-reliance… of not being able to depend on anyone. There is no one else to share moments of darkness with and the times when one feels as if the very Gods have turned their backs and abandoned you.
At this moment I feel as if the fates are throwing me to the winds and that old Norse trickster Loki, is playing all sorts of spiteful little games… payback for thousands of event free sailing miles and safe landfalls. He had more than a little to do with the twilight of the old Viking Gods at Ragnarök and I can’t help feeling something similar is at work here.
I remember chatting with Danne in Amsterdam shortly before I left Het Yacht, and as we spoke, two ravens landed very close by. We both remarked at exactly the same time that it was like a sign from Odin (he sent his two ravens, Huginn and Muninn into the world to watch the antics of man. They were his messengers).
At the time I thought it was a sign to sail, and sure enough, that morning Wim came over from the office with a letter from Sweden for me from the Svenska Kryssaklubben with my certificate. Surely this confirmed it all… And yet while sitting here writing this missive, I can’t help wondering if the signs were in fact the opposite.
Maybe this isn’t my time at all.
At this point let me inject a little humour into the proceedings:
Simon arrived from a company called Adolf Cornells…… You couldn’t make it up! They went about their business of ordering the rogue parts and I sat back marvelling again that I had actually made it here in the first place.
And yet ten days later, I am still here, the hafenmeister twitching with concern, as one is not supposed to stay more than four days. My pathetic attempt to speak German has only confused matters more… it’s just not happening. Neither is ordering the correct size bearing! Loki strikes again…
So now the bearing will have to be re-ordered from Hamburg and it won’t be until next Tuesday (28th May) that it arrives. So another weekend will soon be upon us, suffused in Protestant dullness, with everything shut down and time redundant. At least I can watch all the ships coming and going. Huge lumps of metal going to and fro have little time to be religious! Mammon always has the last word!
So now this Viking Queen feels decidedly under confident, and after so many trouble free years of sailing, reflects on how her luck finally ran out in 2011 in the River Blackwater on fair England’s East Coast, after the unwelcome altercation with, and wake up call from sailing barge ‘Thistle’. It has continued since. I wish I could throw off this hoodoo. Who knows, maybe the Gods are trying to warn me that it is time to swallow the anchor?
Why do I love the sea so much? What kind of a drug is she, this heaving seducer with its emotional depths and broken promises; my lover.
However, there’s noting I can do now except continue into the shady unknown, praying that maybe my luck will turn and the Jonah that has dogged me will disappear into the Baltic.
Nowhere is a lonely place to be right now…