Ahoy, dear readers, The title says it all. We’ve arrived at our second destination on the Atlantic, though not without some problems.
The flow we’ve been in for the past two weeks is abruptly interrupted by the words “Land in sight.” You quickly get used to this steady, forward-moving rhythm on board. You know that the boat is always moving toward its destination. Sometimes in a storm, sometimes in calm waters, but the journey always continues—in daylight and in darkness—with no traffic lights, no speed limits; only water and wind set our limits.
Then we reach our destination, and the flow comes to an end. We did it!!!
On the 16th day, around 6:00 p.m., we docked with Symi at the Schengen customs pier in the marina of Ponte Delgada on São Miguel, the main island of the Azores. I stepped carefully off the boat onto the solid concrete. After all, we now had to re-enter the EU. Friendly passport control and minimal bureaucracy characterize this Schengen outpost.
I walked along the pier—which felt very stable under my feet—over to the marina office and registered for a berth at the dock. The nice gentleman, however, told me that there were no more open spots in this huge marina. I was a bit disappointed, looking very dejected and land-sick, but he said he had a spot available for two days. We moved there and then set out on our 2,146-nautical-mile journey from Bermuda. Abends gingen wir essen und genossen wackligen Schrittes die Altstadt von Ponte Delgada. Leider passierte mir dann ein Missgeschick. Am dunklen Trottoir, nach Speis und Trank, übersah ich eine 1cm Schwelle und flog unkontrolliert zu Boden, sodaß meine rechte Schulter kurzzeitig luxierte und zum Glück beim Aufrichten wieder in ihre normale Position zurücksprang.

A really stupid, completely unnecessary incident that’s been causing me some pain ever since. But don’t worry—the painkillers are helping, and it’s already a little bit better. Since I went to the marina office the next day with a triangular bandage wrapped around my right arm, the nice gentleman at the counter granted us our berth for four weeks, saying, “With this condition, I cannot send you out onto the Atlantic.” So now I have time to recover from the injury, and we have time to do some sightseeing. We wanted a safe spot—but the price we paid to get it is another story. Before Meiki left us on Saturday, we reflected on the trip once more over our final dinner. Meiki said that for him, too, this storm system we encountered was the strongest sustained wind he’d experienced in his 40-year career. To a certain extent, we’ve become average tourists using Symi as our hotel.

I'm sure you understand that we won't be posting any blog entries over the next few weeks and will just be drifting around the Azores. I'll definitely be back in touch when we start preparing for the crossing to Spain or Gibraltar. I'd be happy if you'd join us again then. All the best, and stay healthy. Your (currently) somewhat disabled Captain Pavlos