‘it is better to risk your life for plundering than for government’(T. Tew, 1692)

I have arrived in Grenada and have successfully survived the first 30 hours on board. The boat is anchored in a small bay called Prickly just outside Saint George the capital of Grenada. Around the boat other boats from all over the world are anchored, here are people from Austria, South Africa, The States and Sweden among others. Every morning from 7 A.M the dear Miss Piggy can be heard on the boat’s radio. Miss Piggy has this amazing thick southern accent, imagine Scarlett from gone with the Wind speaking with her soft tones that goes up and down like she’s reading a tale and you know what I am talking about. Miss Piggy sits by and gives advice on anything connected with sailing in and around Grenada, and people call in to ask questions such as what to do when you enter areas with pirates, like for example Trinidad. And the sweet Miss Piggy replies back, go two boats together and hold on to your hats…..brilliant. Furthermore, there was this caller from a Norwegian boat anchored here in Grenada, whose crew-member  went missing and therefore are looking for someone who can sail with them from here and back to Europe………ANYONE!? I hope, for the sake of the crew member, that he din't went missing on open sea.....

Anyways everything is going fine, slowly getting used to the constant rocking from side to side. When going to bed in the evening you get the feeling of going to bed drunk. I have had my first Caribbean rum, my first swim in the sea, have learnt how to sail a dingy so big progress being made here.

Taxfree land!

En lang flytur når snart sin ende. Jeg sidder lige nu i en lufthavn på Barbados og venter på mit næste fly. Tax-free områder er så pokkers anonyme og intetsigende. Den evige summen fra de rejsende bliver kort afbrudt af meddelelser fra den skranten højtaler, som derefter efterfølges af travle fodtrin fra folk som haster ud mod deres fly. Udenfor væggene forefindes en af de mange Caribiske øer, men lige nu er det forbudt land for mig. Jeg må udholde ventetiden lidt endnu, som en sød tortur. Låne et par linjer fra min nylig købte paperback til at beskrive det som jeg snart skal møde.

"Mellem havet og mine
hænder som jeg ser på findes forarbejdet træ
og organisk liv, sådan som jeg har indrettet mig for tiden.
Trådnet beskytter mig mod insekter
hvis jeg holder døren lukket hvad jeg ikke gør.
Jeg lader det hele være. Udenfor havet solen
den caribiske sols nedstigen som en sødmefuld tortur
og derefter de små lyde som søger sammen,
de blanke fortrolige ord mellem fremmede kroppe,
den dødende erindring om afstand,
horisontens sidste rødmende trevler."
(J. Leth, Det Uperfekte menneske)

Tales from Brighton

"Bright in that happy land, beams every eye.

Kept by a Father's hand, love cannot die.

Oh, then to glory run, be a crown and Kingdom won,

and bright above the sun,

reign for aye."

(Nick Cave, Happy Land)

Back in Brighton, did not see that one coming! A blessing?! Back with friends in the city of dreams. Friends that has become my family and the city that hunts my mind. It hits me with lighting and feelings of belonging somewhere. Belong in the city that is so bright that no-one can be sad. It colours your heart, your creativity and soul. It’s where imposing high ceilinged houses and apartments look out on the English sea. The North laines with its nooks and crannies, where you eat, shop and observe the people of Brighton. The Brightonias, a strange, colourful, great, unlikely mix of people. A walk on the beachfront leaves you back in wonder. On the beachfront you pass by, grannies with purple hair in stylish 50s dresses, punks withMohawks of incredible heights, skaters practising neck breaking stunts, women wearing bunny outfits to celebrate a friends last day in freedom and Tibtanian female munks in orange cloaks. Brighton leaves you with a feeling of freedom. An unbeatable freedom and love to life. A love to a city that will hunt your mind forever.

So here I am, back in Brighton for a couple of days. The last couple of days have been a great mix of visits to pubs, eating great pub food and drinking local ale with Ilke, checking out the local bookshop with a high risk of never leaving the mountain of amazing stories, chilling on the beach in the company of Agnes, a good book, strong coffee, gazing at the sea, clubbing in colourful and heartfelt gay-clubs, dozing with Matthis in front of the TV eating stuffed pita and last but least looking for Nick Cave!! This unexpected visit to Brighton is a blessing, I find it hard to be angry with the ash. A couple of days in Brighton has eased my heart. In Brighton I find peace within. And this time around I will not find it hard to say goodbye,as I know I will soon return for another round.

The ash shadow

SO I am stranded in Thorsø, Denmark. Despite the fact that planes could take off today my flight was cancelled. .....So what now, well my ticket with Cimber-Sterlings has been re-booked for tomorrow morning:-) So hopefully I'll be one country closer to my destination by tomorrow morning. But I still need to get hold of two additional airline companies and the online travel agent. So far I been on hold for more than 30 minutes, desperately trying to get through to Virgin Atlantic. This day could either turn out to be a great day or just pure bad, all comes down to whether the companies cooperate with me. Fingers crossed

Volcanoes

I have never seen "Volcanoes" --

But, when Travellers tell

How those old -- phlegmatic mountains

Usually so still --

Bear within -- appalling Ordnance,

Fire, and smoke, and gun,

Taking Villages for breakfast,

And appalling Men -

(Emily Dickinson)

So, this is what it has come down to. All my hopes and dreams about leaving tomorrow are placed upon a test flight taking places right now……………damn. Mother Nature is playing around with us right now and showing us just how helpless we are. My bag is almost packed, just need to get everything to fit in :-S. Wanted to bring a certain book by a Danish writer that was recommended to me, but the village bookseller did not have it. Red shoes with white dots have been bought and are ready to set sail.

So what am I packing for you might ask. Well I am packing for Grenada, Trinidad and Tobago. I will be assisting on a project that is dedicated to gaining a better understanding what motivates people to leave their land-based lives and go sailing. I will be spending the next couple of months on a boat in the Caribbean Ocean, the boat will my home and the sea my playground. I hope to find time once a while to post some experiences and share some memories here.

Den haabende piratdronning

”Han bruger sine øjne

At se. En fader siger til sin søn, inden denne drager ud på sin første udenlandsrejse:

”Husk nu at bruge dine øjne, søn”. Sønnen skal bruge sine øjne til at se med.

Han skal ikke glemme at se. Han skal opleve verden med sine øjne.

Med sit syn."

(J. Leth, "Det Uperfekte menneske", 2005)

Mine øjne er klare og klar til at se, men en grå skygge spærrer mit udsyn, mit udsyn til at rejse onsdag morgen. Jeg holder fast i håbet. Håbet om at et mirakel vil finde sted og befri mig for den grå skygge. Jeg har en aftale med en ukendt bølge, en aftale, som har holdt mig gående gennem den stille vinter. Men er det forkert at håbe? En illusion, et drømmekastel, skal jeg vågne op og tage ansvar for moderjords drillerier. Eller lege med ideen om, hvorvidt dette er en sidste bøn fra Islands økonomi om at få spredt sin aske over Europa? Fornuft og realisme frem for at svæve rundt i fantasien? Hvad er at foretrække at få ødelagt håbet her og nu eller at se tiden an? Hvordan forenes menneskelig planlægning med naturen?

Ventetiden er lang og jeg tænker tankerne om og om igen. Tænker dem ihjel. Jeg holder mig oppe - men jeg holdes hen. I morgen falder dommen, dommen over min fortsatte færden mod bølgen. Bliver min forsikring, min sikring, min ridder, der kommer til undsætning. Alt finder sin løsning og snart skal jeg krydse klinger med eventyret.