What a paradox.
How is it that here—on a glorified floating shoebox of 7 by 12 meters—where I can’t run, can’t wander, and can’t even take five steps without bumping into a rope, a wall, or a crew member—I somehow feel more free than anywhere else?

I mean, realistically, I’m being jiggled around by waves, pushed along by wind, and politely bossed around by clouds. My “daily commute” is basically whatever the weather decides.
And yet… I feel completely in charge of my fate.

It makes no sense.

Or maybe it does.

Maybe I always had this freedom on land—I just never had enough time between emails, errands, and trying to remember where I left my…hang on, what was I looking for?

Out here, I actually have time to watch the first rays of sunlight tickle the tops of the clouds long before the sun itself appears.

Time to admire how the exact same water can suddenly reinvent itself into a whole new shade!

Time to realize that, despite humans being famously terrible at living on water, I somehow feel like I belong out here.

Well… one can tell I had a great morning!

And what a special day it was, because we celebrated Captain Mark’s birthday! Going out for dinner was, as the boys very helpfully pointed out, “a bit difficult” when your nearest restaurant is somewhere beyond the horizon. So instead, we whipped up a strawberry cheesecake for the occasion and made some Burgers for Dinner.
Oh—and Mark is now the proud owner of a rooster…Life at sea is full of surprises.

But the real magic came from our crew member Neli, who once again made sure the day felt special for everyone. He didn’t just bring a gift for Mark—he somehow produced presents for each and every one of us. It felt like Christmas arrived early, and the boys were absolutely over the moon, especially because nobody saw it coming.

In the evening, we were visited by Vision, a boat that has been more or less with us ever since we left Italy. They sent over some beautiful photos of our floating home, which felt like an unexpected little gift.

And so the day drifted on—spinnaker still flying, our miles a bit slower than before, but still making steady, happy progress.