South Africa; this is how it continues...

It feels a little bit like home. So close, yet still somewhat foreign.

We are doing well

Dear family and dear friends

Time slips away, the years pass, and all that remains are memories. Not only that, but also wonderful encounters and lasting friendships. After publishing our last blog post, a longtime friend wrote to us and asked how we were doing. She said we write a lot about our travels and impressions, but never really about ourselves. True, you can look at it that way too. When traveling, the experiences take center stage and are the driving force to take the next step. Not everything is dramatic, but sometimes it takes courage and requires focusing on what's to come. Our own thoughts take a backseat so we can concentrate on what's essential: the journey ahead.

The sea has its own set of rules, demanding something of you. Sailing out is always a journey into timelessness. Minute after minute, hour after hour passes, and the horizon is still far away. Besides all the tasks that need to be done, there's plenty of time for reflection. Many have written about this state: philosophers, seafarers, ordinary sailors like us, writers, and many more. In the wonderful tranquility, there's time to ponder the questions that arise. Yes, we are truly fortunate. We have a beautiful life and are blessed to experience and live all of this. It's the life we've chosen, and it fulfills us. For many, it may seem strange; for many, a dream come true. It's simply our path to happiness. Not every day passes without pain. We, too, experience successes and setbacks. Traveling means adapting and accepting what everyday life brings, just like in real life. For us, travel also means fulfillment. It's the same feeling of happiness as after completing the 100-meter dash, after running a marathon, after passing an exam. It's truly addictive. The desire for more is ever-present, and you become a repeat offender. The journey isn't always the destination, but happiness is.

Homesickness sometimes catches up with you. Thoughts of loved ones back home, of all your friends near and far. These are the difficult days, filled with heartache and sometimes even a few tears. It's the price of freedom and all the adventures. These are the days when we question the meaning of our journey. Is there truly a destination, an end, a change? These are the dark days when you struggle and long for those you miss so much. On these days, you want to return to the circle you know so well, to home.

Since we embarked on our grand journey, much has changed; the world has changed. We set off in the midst of the pandemic. Since then, the balance of power in the world has shifted, and people and societies have transformed. Every country we've visited has its own history, its own identity. Sometimes far removed from our own expectations and far removed from our knowledge and understanding. This constantly challenges us. We are shaped by our culture and our history; suddenly, everything is different. It's not a trip for a two-week vacation, it's an approach that will take months. The simplest things, like grocery shopping, can become an adventure. Sometimes it's strenuous and tiring, demanding a lot from us. There is so much to discover, both the bright and the dark sides. All these things have become our purpose, our everyday reality. Much has settled into a routine and is taking its course.

The once-planned journey dissolved into the fog. What once seemed so important is no longer relevant. We had to learn that planning gives you the drive to keep moving forward, but that things usually turn out differently than expected. So instead of continuing our journey into the Pacific, we ended up in the Indian Ocean.

After almost five years of traveling, we can draw a conclusion: it was worth it. We wouldn't want to miss a single day, and yes, we're doing very well.

In a beach chair in Travemünde

A grand journey through Europe

We returned from our sailing trip to the Seychelles at the beginning of November last year. After a short visit to Switzerland, we went back to Knysna, which has almost become our second home. From June to the end of September, we were on a big European tour and visited many friends, family, and acquaintances. It was a wonderful time, and we were able to discover many new places. After a long time in the tropics and on the water, it was an interesting trip on land.

Switzerland, Germany, Belgium, the Netherlands, Denmark, Sweden, and back again. We escaped the Southern Hemisphere winter for the long, bright Northern summer. Our sailing trips in the north and the vastness of the Baltic and North Seas came back to us, along with all the wonderful experiences associated with them. A piece of home, too.

Amsterdam

What happens next with our journey?

Since the beginning of October, we've been back in Africa and already have various travel plans. No, this time not by ship, but on four wheels, but more on that later. First, we'd like to tell you a story about us, our further plans, and how we got here:

Our hearts beat for the sea

So, without any warning, we sailed right into this mess. The weather forecasts were good, no, even unbelievable; that should have raised some red flags. Around midnight, the first doubts crept in when the wind was still blowing in our faces. Now it's a bitter reality: we're right in the middle of a cut-off low, a low-pressure system that doesn't bode well for the east coast of South Africa. The Agulhas Current is pulling us towards the Cape of Good Hope, while the secondary low, detached from the main low-pressure zone, is heading in the opposite direction. The result is clear: over 40 knots of headwind, force 8, and short waves 4-6 meters high. We break through with reefed sails and a 5-knot current against the wind. There's not much time to think; we turn and sail back towards Durban. We'll spend eleven hours battling the raw power of the sea, and there will be plenty of time to reflect, interrupted by watch changes, decisions about what to do next, and finally, our arrival in the safety of the harbor.

Scene change. When we set sail almost five years ago to circumnavigate the globe, the thought of one day cruising the coasts and inland waterways of Europe in a motorboat was unheard of. The term "ship" seems appropriate here, as we still had memories of our time on a steel vessel built in the Netherlands. For us, a ship always symbolized the possibility of traversing the open ocean and braving storms and inclement weather. Boats seemed made for the lakes. Sailing was our lifelong dream: to cross the oceans and experience foreign worlds and cultures. After many years in the north, we sailed through the Bay of Biscay, across the Atlantic, and through the Indian Ocean, experiencing a great deal and feeling truly free. We listened to the sound of the wind and changed sails countless times. We spent nights in the cockpit, repairing, sewing, cleaning, and maintaining. Sailing was always our priority and nurtured this feeling of freedom and accomplishment. Sailors are proud people. For them, giving up something they hold dear and love is almost impossible. And despite everything, we began to remember the wonderful trips we had on our motorboat. Perhaps the experience on the coast of South Africa was decisive, perhaps it was also the desire for change and the search for new adventures.

To be honest, the very first thoughts of a change of boat came to us in the Seychelles. It was one of those repair days where everything went wrong. Every single spare part and tool was cursed, and pinched fingers and scrapes were lamented. What a day. It should be said that sailboats need a lot of attention and care. Some turn out to be real sensitive souls and need the necessary affection and love. It seemed we had acquired such a specimen. We had already given up our dream of sailing on to Asia some time ago. Our Najuma had to go back to the shipyard for an extensive refit and numerous warranty repairs. Repairs on boats are part of sailing life, but everything in moderation. We were fed up with constantly tinkering in the most beautiful places on earth. In the evening, after a hard day's work, the skipper sat in the cockpit and looked at various motorboat models from Dutch shipyards on his tablet for the first time.

What a catastrophe, what a betrayal! The die-hard sailor starts looking at motorboats. He quickly closes the tablet and vows never to entertain such wild thoughts again. The days pass, and his gaze keeps returning to the relevant websites of the shipbuilding industry. Thoughts become ideas, these conversations turn into conversations, and before we know it, we're right in the thick of it. The sailor's heart is torn, his honor is on the line—can he even think clearly anymore? Arguments are sought, the familiar pros and cons list is written down, rearranged, torn up, and rewritten. It's a rollercoaster. To finally gain some clarity, we decide to contact several shipyards in the Netherlands and request more detailed information about the respective models.

While the skipper is visibly brooding and wrestling with himself, the crew, especially Sandra, seems quite comfortable with the idea. What a metamorphosis! Is this bordering on mutiny? Seriously, it really has something to do with fear of loss, with a major change. My thoughts aren't truly free; they cling to the past few years, to images of the sails billowing in the wind, silently propelling us forward, to the majesty, the sublime. Is it really true that sailors feel superior to motorboat sailors, even look down on them somewhat? That brings us directly to the chicken-and-egg dilemma, which here is clearly decided in favor of the sailor.

The days and weeks are passing, and our visit to the Netherlands in November 2025 is drawing nearer. Despite all my doubts, I finally decided to schedule appointments at three different shipyards to get some clarity. This step helped me form an opinion about our undertaking. I was also quite proud to discover that I not only hold a sailing license (that's what it's called in Switzerland), but also a motorboat license. The exam is just as demanding, as it involves far more than just sailing itself, and who actually holds both licenses? It takes a great deal of knowledge and experience to navigate the high seas, and you have to be prepared to take on the responsibility, whether sailing or motorboating. Ultimately, it's about sharing the joy of being on the water with like-minded people, whether under sail or motor. On our long voyages, we've also spent many hours under motor to get from A to B; the journey is the destination, and in English, it's called "sailing" anyway. Many of you probably think he's trying to sugarcoat all this. Definitely not, it simply has to do with a deep love for the water and the oceans. It's about trust in one another and in the ship, the experience of freedom and the euphoria of arriving at a new anchorage or port. It's about the shared experience, the exchange with like-minded people, the endless peace on the water, and the stories and tales shared in a never-ending cycle. All of this connects us, whether on a motorboat or a sailboat.

After all the philosophical discussion, let's get back to the practicalities. Sailors have a different approach to motorboats, prioritizing different criteria. Handling, design, and safety take precedence over livability and comfort. This isn't to say we want to forgo these aspects, but the sometimes overly elaborate interiors of some of the major brands were rather off-putting during our evaluation. Besides a technically perfect boat, we prefer a restrained, modern, and timeless interior in subtle colors. The shipyard visits were all very interesting, but also somewhat sobering. It's about emotions, but also about the process of completing a project. We've owned and actually used several boats in our lives, and we were able to draw on that experience.

Ultimately, we ended up at Linssen. Even thirty years ago, these ships impressed me and were known to me as the pinnacle of steel ships. Back then, however, we couldn't afford them, so we had to look elsewhere. Finally, we also traveled to Maasbracht to visit the Linssen shipyard.

Now the story continues like a picture-perfect success. A warm welcome, a tour of the shipyard (we actually managed to keep Paul from having his lunch break!), chats with Rennie, and then back to the B&B. The offers arrive by email on Sunday – such fantastic service, we can hardly believe it. We had originally planned to sell our catamaran in South Africa before ordering a new boat, but things don't always go as planned. A weekend lies in between, giving us time to consider our options. What else was there? Didn't I actually want to go sailing again? Women simply make these kinds of decisions faster and more rationally, at least that's how I see it in retrospect. Sandra was probably already mentally planning the interior design, while I was still weighing up whether sailing would be the right choice, or not. No, let's be clear now: the Linssen Variotop is a real alternative. There are actually good comparisons to a sailing yacht of a similar size. Deck saloon, wide side decks, airy cockpit, and many more features that I won't list now. A beautiful ship with a striking individuality. A ship that sailors will certainly appreciate. A feast for the eyes, understated, simple, yet so present. A ship perfectly suited for those transitioning from a sailboat.

We took the plunge, a bit of a crazy decision, but it's one we made with great joy. The contract is signed, and we're now waiting for our new boat, a motor vessel with that certain something extra. A boat for two sailing enthusiasts who will embark on a new adventure together.

Our new home

Southeast Africa

Before we take delivery of our new ship in the Netherlands in April 2026, we're embarking on a road trip. For the next three months, we'll be traveling across Southeast Africa in a Toyota Land Cruiser with a rooftop tent and camping gear. We're starting in Cape Town, then heading through Namibia, Zambia, Zimbabwe, and Botswana before returning to South Africa. For once, we'll be happy to share our travel experiences with you daily, internet access permitting.

You can follow our journey via the "Polarsteps" app. The app is available in the App Store. Simply download it and search for us by name. You can also send us a WhatsApp message or email and we'll send you a link to our journey.

On to new adventures and see you again soon!

Knysna Lagoon