We are leaving Rebeira early morning.  The time on deck is 0800, and at 0815 we throw the last mooring line.  Rebeira wasn't much to talk about, but yet it did still make an impression. The shower facilities were state-of-the-art: the water was not heated by coal powered electricity but by solar power. All the way to the farthest corners of the country, even to the smallest villages, the idea of reducing conventional fuels has taken root. Unfortunately the Spanish sun had seen better days, because not even a single ray of sunshine had reached the solar panels of Rebeira on that overcast day. Consequently we re-experienced the most horrifying of all horrors in modernity – the cold shower!

The weather reports were a bit dodgy: would the dominant southern wind turn west so we would be able to set sail? Would the sun be able to heat up the land and cause the air to rise, creating a sea breeze, which would pull the wind westerly? And would that the turn of the wind, which the daily weather reports gave reason to anticipate, occur in time? So many different things needed to fall in to place!

We head out to sea with the main engine running and set out breakfast.  Getting the coffee brewing is a crucial part of my own and others’ morning routine but this ritual has suddenly shrunk considerably - both in practice and in priority.  I think Jens is the only one of us drinking coffee when we are at sea. The rest of us have found that coffee has a horrible effect on our efforts to keep the sea sickness from ruining our sailing. And I believe it has been a while since we have been hit!

But still, what a joy it is, to come ashore and have a nice cup of coffee, and sit at a local café looking forward to go sailing once more.

The engine is pounding and in different ways people are expressing their wish for it to be shut down. Or “kill it” as some of the crew like to put it. The crew is making the most of the waiting time in different ways – but sometimes it can be a very long wait. And there are always things to be done on a boat; the wet vacuum is used to clean out the bilges, reinforcements are made here and there, lines are coiled, and meals are prepared. Still there are some hours where you just have to find your book or the newspaper that has followed you around for weeks.

And the old newspaper gets a new value. With good results it can be re-read several times over (and then over again.)  Articles that you read a long time ago are skipped, and instead little notes, even the adverts, are given extra attention, and are read more slowly. In a Dutch paper: why does Shell deem it important to spend fortunes bragging about their influence in Rembrandt’s The Girl with the Golden Pearl returning to a Dutch museum. Does it create a better brand than so many other stories about Shell?

The answer disappears in the ongoing pounding of the engine. The wind does not turn! On the contrary we are able to maintain a speed that will get us to Porto tonight. Even though some of us would have loved to sacrifice that target in order to kill the engine! Finally the weak wind has turned slightly, and we can enjoy some hours of sailing. To the main sail we add both the genoa and the stay sail, which are both trimmed and tightened to make the best speed despite the weak winds.

This is for me what this journey is really about: the sounds of the mast shrieking, waves licking the boat now and then, lifting it high up, the silence before it slowly goes down into the sea, regaining its stability, steadily forcing the waters aside. We are close to shore and cannot go any higher to the wind, so we can only expect to have to turn the engine back on soon. But until then, I enjoy the movements of the water’s eternal rocking in continuously new variations on an ancient, internal theme.

Sailing becomes sounds and movements, music and body, dance - a dance that is in all of us and can be recognised by anyone – if only sea sickness did not get in your way.

Around 2100 we reach the marina in Porto that might have hot water in their showers. Maybe, but more importantly we had time to set sails and be a part of the dancing of the waves.