Back in France!

Naho on her Maxi 998.

Back on a Mini!

Oh it felt so good to be back in France for sailing Mini! I had the pleasure to coach Naho, a Japanese Mini Skipper, in Lorient for a week.

Lorient is special everytime I go there. This time it was super impressive - there were 12 IMOCAS, some Class40’s, Figaros and of course many Minis, all together and next to each other at „La Base“. There truly is no other place in the world like this, it’s the center of offshore racing.

What a view.. and what an atmosphere. Beautiful IMOCAs lined up in Lorient.

Naho just got her Mini, a Maxi 6.50 like mine, so everything was still quite new to her.

So we did all the basic stuff, like preparing the boat for her first race, checking all the safety equipment, charts etc, tuned the rig and practised solo maneuvers and sailing in and out of the challenging channel with lots of crazy current and rocks infront of La Base.

Naho and I on her Mini.

It was really fun, also the weather challenged us a bit, and it was just good to be back on the water, on a Mini. It reminded me very much of my first steps in the Mini world, which was so exciting! Naho has an amazing time ahead on her way to the Mini Transat 2025.

Back at home in Austria, the search for partners and supporters for my Class 40 campaign continues and I will soon have a look at another Class 40 – I will keep you posted!

A pontoon full of Class 40’s.

So, what’s next?

Going back to normal life, after a project like the Mini Transat, feels a bit strange. I was so focused on the Mini for the last 3 years, I didn’t really think, feel or speak about anything else than Mini. Which I guess was a bit frustrating and annoying sometimes for friends and family, but well. It is what it is. And I spent most of the time in France anyway, where I was surrounded by other Mini people literally all the time. We spoke about Mini, we thought about Mini, we discussed about Mini, we dreamed about Mini (even while sailing on a Mini), we felt Mini, we did Mini. 24/7.

Mini 24/7..

In November 2023, when the Mini Transat finished, this suddenly stopped. We spent the last years in a Mini bubble and now we had to go back to the world outside of this bubble. Those people who made a good plan before the final race, the Mini Transat, maybe had it a bit easier after the race than people who just let it happen. I also thought I had the perfect plan when I started the Mini Transat, but actually my plans changed in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. And that is okay. But I was a bit lost in the first days after I arrived in Guadeloupe.

What helped me was talking to my family and friends and speaking out loud what I really want. Before the Mini Transat I thought the only logical next step for me would be the Figaro circuit. I thought I had to do this step before stepping up to Class 40 or other boats. But that’s not true, of course I can sail Class 40, and I have wanted to sail around the world for such a long time already, then why wait? Wait for what? Life is short, and if I manage to organise the budget to buy a boat and do the races I wanna do, then why not. It’s definitely worth a try and it’s what I want to do.

So the plan is set. It’s in my head and it will stay there until I reach the goal.

From Mini to Class 40?

From Guadeloupe, Jade and I flew directly to France to have a look at the first boats, to get an idea of the market at the moment. So since then, I fell in love with quite some beauties, but of course it won’t go that easy. The main job and hardest part in such a project is finding sponsors and partners. But it’s possible for others, then why shouldn’t it be possible for me?

In the meantime, in January, there was another big moment - my Mojo arrived in Lorient! She crossed the Atlantic another time (on the Cargo ship) and I was happy to pick her up and to see that she still was in a very good shape. I drove her directly to the shipyard in Concarneau where she got some love and repairs and where my Mojo is patiently waiting for her future skipper ever since. Selling her will be a very sad day for me on the one hand, but a big step into my sailing future on the other hand!

I can’t wait to step on my future Class 40! I am dreaming of that moment when I sail her for the first time, and that feeling is too good and makes me keep trying until it works out. So the next big and important step is to sell my loved Mojo and find supporters to being able to purchase a beautiful old Class 40 and to get back out on the ocean again!

Time to say Goodbye.

Right after arriving in Guadeloupe, the skippers already had to think about preparing the Mini’s for their transport back to Europe.

That meant tidying up the boat, cleaning and drying everything, make sure no stuff stays onboard that could make problems with customs and deliver the boat from Saint Francois to Pointe-à-Pitre in Guadeloupe. This was a very special and emotional day for me. Since I decided to sell my Mini, it meant that this was my last sail with my beautiful Mojo. Just writing about it makes me cry, it’s really not easy to say goodbye after such intense years of solo sailing on this boat and especially after crossing an ocean with Mojo.

I did the delivery sail with my boyfriend Jade and it was a perfect day for a last sail. It was sunny with a nice breeze. And of course, one more thing had to go wrong - when we were being towed out through the quite tricky little channel out of the harbour of Saint Francois, the pulpit, where I had attached the towing line, broke. It was very wavy in this channel and it was my mistake that I didn’t put the towing line around the mast. But we reacted quickly, hoisted sails and luckily made it out of the channel on our own and without further problems. :)

Then it was one more time to hoist all the sails - Code 0 and Spi Max - I tried to suck it all in and enjoy as much as possible. After 2 hours we arrived in Pointe-à-Pitre and the work started. Dismasting, putting all the ropes inside and get the boat ready for another Atlantic crossing, this time on a Cargo ship.

When we did the takeover of the boat by the transport company and when they sealed my Mojo for the transport, I started realising that that was it. When we left the Cargo area on a rib and I looked back to my Mini in the distance, I couldn’t help but secretly shed a few tears there… it was time to say goodbye. See you on the other side, my Mojo!

See you on the other side, Mojo!

I MADE IT! I crossed the Atlantic Ocean!

Happy in Guadeloupe!

So it’s end of November 2023 and I still can’t believe that I finally crossed the Atlantic Ocean, all by myself on my beautiful little Mini 6.50.

It took me 17 days to go from La Palma, Canary Islands, to Guadeloupe in the Caribbean. 17 days of solitude, totally different to what I imagined all these years I prepared for this race. I am proud, for sure. I did it, after 3 years of full crazy dedication to this project. I am proud but also disappointed and sad that it ended how it ended. Disappointed about the race, not about the crossing itself. Honestly, i didn’t care so much about the sailing and crossing the ocean, for me it was mostly about the race. And that was a mistake. And a part of preparation that I missed out on, which I realise now after reflecting on it.

I compared myself to sailors who are literally born at sea, who sail since they were kids and who live by the sea their whole life. I felt a big pressure of being as good as they are and I wanted to do my best. In the end, one mistake somewhere on the Atlantic Ocean after 4 days of racing, made me lose contact to the surrounding boats and that incidence hit me. It hit me hard. I lost my focus, I doubted my plan and was not able to take a proper decision anymore. I got depressed for almost a week and I never felt that lonely at sea before. Actually, it was the first time ever for me to feel lonely on my Mini. All I wished for was for the race to end. My thoughts were spinning around and I got so sad that all the preparation and all that time I invested ended in the big race being like this. I so wished to turn back the clock and start again. I went through all the feelings and emotions, and I can tell you that time passes reeeally slowly when you are in a bad mood, totally by yourself, for days at sea.

Start of my Atlantic Depression.

In the end I managed to get out of my depression, I started to listen to music again, have some food, wash my hair and take care of myself more just to feel better. So I am glad that I could enjoy the rest of the race more and even could make good some places which really made my days ;)

Still, I couldn’t wait to arrive! It was the first time for me to be so impatient about arriving, actually. I just wanted to see my boyfriend and my family, also I felt bad they had to wait so long - I was counting the days since I knew when they arrived in Guadeloupe and I just wanted to be there faster.

In the Mini 6.50 races we are not allowed to have contact to the outside, no phones, computers, sat phones orsoever are allowed on board. So onshore the people have no idea what’s going on onboard those little racing machines, and we onboard have no idea of what’s going on in the world while we are racing. So you can imagine what a feeling it is to get back to society after 17 days by yourself with no contact to anyone!

Crossing the finish line after 17 days.

Arriving was amazing! It was a sunny morning, a light breeze let me cross the finish line under big spinnaker, accompanied by some ribs who were encouraging me on the last mile. And oh my.. how nervous and excited I was! When I arrived at the pontoon, hugging my loved ones and friends, I had a hard time to cover my shakiness, so nervous I was about arriving.

Happy to finish and arrive but still I was coping with my disappointment about my racing result. It felt very good to speak to all the people and read all the messages I got. That really made me feel so much better. Oh and the beer.. the first cold beer was really a good one!

Looking back now, I am very proud of how I managed my race, how I managed to get to the starting line of this big race! And how I managed the mental challenge out there, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. I guess it was the best lesson I could get. I am ready for more.

Rum and beer at the arrival in Guadeloupe.