last three month

Hello my friend,

today I’m writing to you with a bit of a longer post, giving you an overview of the last months. Things were moving fast and kept us really busy, and I got way behind on any kind of updates.
Well, here I am — and thank you for being with me.

Where I’m Writing From

While I’m writing this, we’re anchored somewhere in the Saloum River Delta in Senegal, just north of The Gambia. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, a light breeze is taking the edge off the heat, and there is almost no movement in the water. We have a properly working dinghy with a reliable outboard engine that actually brings us places.

But the year hasn’t started like this.

Two Sides of the Coin

Everything you choose in life comes with two sides of the coin. There’s always a positive and a negative — and very often it’s simply in the eye of the observer which side of the coin you’re studying.

For years in my life, I tried to make the “right” decisions. I tried to do the “right” things in order to become happy and enjoy life.

Guess what: it’s not that easy.

Because whatever positive you choose, there’s always a price to pay for it. And I see that all the time in my coaching as well. Everybody has something to complain about — a job they don’t like, a situation they would like to avoid, a reality that doesn’t match the idea of how it “should” be.

At some point it became obvious to me that it’s not about avoiding the price.

It’s about choosing something where you’re willing to pay the price that’s inevitably attached to it — no matter what.

The Price of an Adventurous Life

What I struggle with most is sticking to my plans, especially my work plans and routines. I wanted and chose an adventurous life — one that offers potential, change, and risk. One that brings me to the most beautiful places on the planet and grants me enough time to truly observe those places and start to feel at home.

And sometimes I get carried away.

I find it difficult to sit down and stick to my work routine, to write regular newsletters and updates. Sometimes because I’m simply too busy exploring what the world has to offer. Sometimes because I’m tired and exhausted — because of difficult passages, or wind and waves shifting in the middle of the night. Sometimes because things break and need to be fixed — things I need for daily life.

A combination of these things happened at the start of this year.

Cabo Verde: Dinghy Gone, Dusty Birthday, and Boat Math

Since December 2025, we were sailing in Cabo Verde. Our dinghy was stolen on day three. We woke up in the morning, wanted to jump into the dinghy to bring the dogs to land — and nothing was there. No dinghy, no lines, no sign. Just… empty water.

For most of our stay, we had strong winds blowing straight toward the open ocean, which made it difficult to go ashore. Every now and then we had very rolly anchorages and had to leave and find shelter. The weather overall was chilly at times, the water was too cold for longer swims, and sometimes it was just super muddy and dirty.

And then came my birthday. Two days after arriving in Mindelo, we woke up to a sky that looked like the world was about to end. Milky yellow light, strong wind, maybe 100 meters of visibility — and the sun didn’t come out for the entire day, hidden behind Sahara dust. Not exactly the tropical birthday dream.

In Mindelo, we had to pick up a mooring as close to shore as possible because we couldn’t manage to paddle to land from our anchorage. And from there we tried to organize, order, fix, or build things.

We ordered a new autopilot from Pelagic — which got lost and took us about six weeks to recover. In the meantime, we repaired the old one. We built an LFP power bank. We bought a used dinghy and used outboard. Then we built a brand-new nested dinghy somewhere in a garage in Mindelo — and at the same time tried to enjoy the island and the carnival as much as we could.

Soon we had to leave for Santiago, the island in the south with the capital Praia, to find our lost packages. We also found out they had another idea about the validity of our visas, and we ended up dealing with bureaucracy.

I finished the nested dinghy somewhere at the beach, only to realize the outboard engine broke down beyond repair. I gave it to a local mechanic for free.

Then we sailed to Dakar and dealt with more bureaucracy: getting visas and permits, ordering a new German passport at the German embassy, rebuilding another outboard engine (this time a reliable one), trying to sell the inflatable dinghy, fixing our watermaker… and then finally setting sail to Sine Saloum — or the Saloum River Delta, however you want to call it.

And now we’re here.

The Version of Life I Had in Mind

Green mangroves left and right. Blue sky. No movement in the water. Hopping into a working dinghy, bringing the dogs to shore, and even going for a decent dinner in a lodge in the evening. It feels like the version of this life I had in mind.

And that’s the point.

Don’t get me wrong — I’m definitely not complaining.

I’m mentioning this because even though I live a life I’ve crafted over the last decades, and that I absolutely love, sometimes it gets out of my hands. And then I get behind on a lot of the things I planned or had in mind.

My Ideal Workday (and Why It Rarely Happens)

My “ideal” workday is actually simple: nothing unexpected happening. I wake up after a good night’s sleep — without noise, light pollution, or mosquitoes. I sit down at my desk for two hours. Then I go to shore with the dogs. I come back for breakfast. I do another two or three coaching sessions, maybe publish an article — and I’m free after four to go explore landlife.

That’s the dream.

But the price of the life I chose is that it doesn’t always run like a clean calendar.

Sometimes the price is a stolen dinghy. Sometimes it’s Sahara dust on your birthday. Sometimes it’s weeks of fixing, building, waiting for packages, dealing with bureaucracy… and realizing you’ve done more logistics than living.

And still: I’m happy to pay it.

Because the upside is massive. And some of the “price” even turns into upgrades. Building the new nested dinghy, having a reliable outboard again, and having enough power with the LFP bank is honestly a life changer.

So maybe you can relate to one or two of these things.

Instead of trying to avoid or reduce everything you don’t like, maybe ask yourself whether it’s a price you’re willing to pay — in order to live the positive side of your life.

One thing that fell off my table lately is posting the last videos Nike published about our journey. Maybe you’ve already seen them on her Patreon or on YouTube. In that case, ignore this. If you haven’t, enjoy those parts of our African journey.

Stay curious, stay salty, and talk to you soon,
Floh