In the virtual classroom
Off Sint Eustatius we experience what we have feared before starting our tour and almost forgot. In Oranjestad Bay, the Asja rocks in front of an idyllic backdrop of a fortress and a volcano - but we have no network. Our children cannot dial into their online lessons. This has actually always worked even in the middle of the Atlantic thanks to Starlink. But in Statia, as everyone calls the "special municipality of the Netherlands", the satellite service does not have a license.
"I have physics soon... I definitely don't want to miss that," says Stella. But neither our mobile data nor the SIM card that Daniel buys can cover the amount of data that the lessons consume.
Dominica from above and below
After a night of endless rain, the Indian River has a milky-turquoise color. Elvis, our guide, is rowing his small boat through the river delta to Tia Dalma's shack, known from Pirates of the Caribbean. Strictly speaking, it's a replica of the filming location. The original hut, where the voodoo priestess gifts Jack Sparrow a large jar of dirt, has been swept away by a hurricane. Next stop: the bar where Johnny and Naomie, Keira and Orlando spent their breaks from filming.
Highs and Lows
Due to the ARC+ meetings and parties in the Canary Islands, Cape Verde and Grenada, you meet the same people again and again. Like a school class, like temporary colleagues. Some stay in the background, others you quickly find a connection with. For example, Ewan, who has been sailing for ages as a skipper and operating manager of large yachts. At 46, he has more than 36,000 nautical miles in his logbook and is becoming a point of contact for many. Not to be overlooked due to his size, always ready to share his experiences. After the ARC+ he wants to continue to the Pacific with his family.
Two weeks on the Atlantic Ocean
After ten days on the Atlantic, albatrosses accompany our ship. A thousand miles from land, their shadows hover above us, poking purposefully into the water. Flying fish jump away in all directions. Entire swarms of them emerge from the ocean. We are hanging on our safety lines on the foredeck and watching the hunting scenes when I spot a tuna in the waves. Just below the surface the larger fish join in the hunt. We shift our fishing rod but don't catch any tuna. And it's not necessary, it's great to be a guest in this secluded world.
Joining the ARC: Is it worth it?
Marching music echoes through the streets along the harbor. A band leads the parade, playing timpani and trumpets. As sailors on the ARC Plus 2024, we march along. People cheer for us from the outdoor cafés and restaurants. It feels a bit strange.
“It’s like carnival in the Rhineland,” my parents say, who are visiting us in Gran Canaria. And there is something to that. But there are no festive floats, no sweets raining onto the street. Instead, 94 crews celebrate the start of the rally, waving our national flags. From Estonia to the Cayman Islands and Japan, 38 nations are taking part in the event.
Close Call
Madeira’s lights start blurring into the hillsides until they look like fireflies. The sky is pitch black already and the water is, too. At 9.4 knots we rush through the Atlantic, close to the wind, on the port side. 28 knots, at altitudes over 30, put pressure on the sails. Wearing my safety vest in the cockpit, I brace my feet against the table. And my head against the bimini, which billows like a third sail on my neck.
A Manta ray on the Pier
As we disembark in Porto Santo, colorful logos greet us. The harbor pier is covered in ships and sea creatures. Ornate paintings, graffiti of boat names. flags and dates cover the wall. Colors burst from the concrete. Images that have been painted over. By crews at a special point in their lives, before or after a long trip. I wonder where their path has taken them. Whether they found what they were looking for and what they are doing today.
Close to the Fort
15 Meters below us, our anchor moves across the rocks. It scratches and drills into my ears. Breaking away is not an option as the cliffs of the Berlengas are within reach. And the wind, although weak, blows constantly towards the island. We don't get much rest that night. At three o'clock, Daniel goes on deck again. He adds a few meters of chain, adjusts our anchor alarm and continues to sleep outdoors for a faster response.
Sailing the Orca Alley
The sky is overcast at our anchoring in Camarinas. Rain is hammering on the dusky-grey ocean and on our Bimini. It’s only 15 degrees Celsius outside. We are surprised how cold it’s in Spain in the beginning of September. In my raincoat, I lift the anchor of our sailboat Asja and hope that she’ll get through the day without any trouble. It’s not a given, as we are sailing Orca Alley.