Logbuch eines Liveaboards Seit Tagen schon wehte ein strenger Ostwind in die Förde, drückte das Wasser von einem Teil der Ostsee in den anderen. Die Mole des kleinen Hafens an der Nordküste der großen Bucht widerstand schon seit hundert Jahren dem Lecken der Wellen. …

The coffee is steaming leisurely in the kitchen when I pass out. I remember the coffee, also because I can see myself hitting the floor. I don’t see myself from the outside, as the eyewitnesses report on TV, when once again the afterlife, the near-death as a grumpy revenant is…

One year ago this week, one of the icons of football died, Armando Diego Maradona. Well, actually, only the man died who, with his extraordinary way of playing football, breathed life into this icon in the first place. The icon itself lives on, of course. Is perhaps now, since the…

Alabama. Since 1910, the small fishing village on the fjord has been called that, because in that year all residents voted in favor of a proposal by Paul Pott, a returnee and descendant of the famous Peter Paul Pott, one of the co-founders of the U.S. …

Dean and I are sitting at Karlo’s, drinking beer in the background. In the foreground we watch the tourists, who either grudgingly, amused or a little bashfully pull up the converted parasol stick with their table number so that they may finally be served. The embarrassing system was devised by…

June 23rd When it’s windless, he always has trouble sleeping. Today he woke up around 6:30am and jumped out of the cot despite the leaden tiredness that was mainly concentrated in his neck muscles. It would not get better if he stayed lying down. There was nothing left of the…