A Sailor’s Approach to Life
Hello my friend,
Earlier this year, I came across a saying for the first time that resonated deeply with me: “Sailors write their plans at low tide in the sand.” It perfectly captures my own approach to life. Over the past few years, I’ve been teaching myself to remain as flexible as possible. This doesn’t mean I don’t make plans or that I frequently change my mind. Instead, it’s more about having a direction rather than fixating on a specific destination.
I make decisions based on my core values, which allows me to adapt when unexpected events arise. Whether these surprises turn into opportunities or obstacles, being flexible gives me the freedom to adjust my course.
Too often in the past, I found myself pursuing goals that no longer aligned with who I was, simply because I had already invested so much time and effort into them. Or worse, because I felt I needed to prove something to others. This rigidity made me feel stuck, stressed, and prevented me from enjoying the present moment.
The Journey with Nike
The struggle between living in the moment while planning for the future is one I find myself facing often. About a year ago, I made a plan to work on Santana over the winter, set sail westward in the summer, reach the Canary Islands by autumn, and eventually cross to the Caribbean by winter. It was an ambitious plan, but I accepted that I would be on that journey mostly on my own, hoping to meet like-minded people along the way.
Then Nike suggested joining me for the crossing, and I immediately embraced the idea, excited to have company on such a long passage. Little did I know how much that one decision would change everything. We started planning together and tested our compatibility by sailing her boat, Karl. What I discovered was a soulmate, and since then, we have rarely sailed solo. I flew to Mexico twice, staying for nearly three months, and Nike has visited Italy twice as well. We planned to spend the entire winter sailing together.
While sailing in Mexico, I realized that reaching the Caribbean was no longer a priority for me; all I wanted was to keep sailing with Nike. So we adjusted our plans, choosing to stay around the Canary Islands, Cape Verde, or even explore West Africa—allowing ourselves the freedom to sail without pressure.
Family, Loss, and Reflection
Then, at the end of July, my father fell ill and was diagnosed with cancer. I knew he wouldn’t have long and decided to return to Germany to support my family. Unfortunately, finding a safe spot for Santana during the high season was a challenge. Fortunately, I remembered the large dry storage areas near Marseille. With Nike by my side, we sailed directly there, giving me the chance to be in Germany just eight days later, free from any urgency to return quickly.
Looking back, I am so grateful I made that decision. My father survived only 11 more days after my arrival, and being present for him and my family was invaluable. I felt fortunate to have no other commitments pulling me away.
During this time, Nike bought a canal boat in the Netherlands, sailed it to Lübeck, and I joined her in late August. After saying my final goodbyes to my father, I took the opportunity to clear out my barn in Switzerland—a task I had promised to tackle two years ago. The timing was finally right, and it’s a relief to have completed something that had weighed on my mind for so long.
Looking Ahead
And now, as I sit on a train heading to Lübeck, I’m taking some time to refocus on my coaching business. After a few weeks in the office, Nike and I will head to Marseille to put Santana back in the water. Then we’ll sail towards the Canary Islands…
At least, that’s the plan—one that, like a sailor’s, is written in the sand at low tide.
Thank you for being with me. Stay safe,
Floh
