I read in a book that nothing clarifies both the spirit and a long journey without a precise occupation, it is true; every week a new port and always new things to do; sanding, painting, embarring, hoisting candles, listening to some excited children say: pirates! There have been hard days, but the experience makes up for it. It would be strange now to sail on a metal boat, in which I do not hear the wood creaking while I am rocked on my cot; I will miss hearing: one! two! three! When we synchronized to charge from the halyards. A team working in unison, supporting each other to reach a good port. Sometimes they were quiet cruises, with the boat gliding peacefully over the waters; there were others with lightning and thunder, wind and waves that shook the ship in all directions; But even so, we “surfed” the waves with ease. I have vertigo, or rather I had; I have climbed to the top, walked by sticks, collected candles. I have learned many things, I even learned to cook (before I knew nothing but frying some sad steaks with potatoes); it is a constant learning and process of overcoming. Sometimes I hesitated, but the encouragement of my companions gave me the courage to carry out any task that was assigned to me; that is a crew. With the sky full of stars, I sailed following Cassiopeia in the port rigging while bioluminescent jellyfish were dancing in the wake; there were solitary nights and in others to fishing dodging, after day dolphins that came to greet us. I bathed in the middle of the sea, followed the course with the compass, I saw in the sky an immense shooting star. What else?