… It is February 27th, 2020. You start with your sailboat in Cape Verde to cross the Atlantic. You are in good spirits, the boat is fit and you have two Danish hitchhikers with you to make the guards shorter. This virus, which has spread to the news programs, is far away and is causing mischief in China.
Imagine that the wind is weak, the crossing takes a few days longer than planned and you can only communicate via SMS on the way. Some weather data. You are on your floating island of the blessed. The Atlantic is blue, the boredom is big and you rock closer to the Caribbean islands every day.
As you travel, the globe spins faster, faster, and faster. Infected people fly around the world, sit on cruise ships or distribute the virus in ski huts. The news shows only know the topic "Hamster purchases of toilet paper". In the formerly limitless Europe, one boom after another folds down. Border fences are being drawn all over the world, entry is forbidden and the nations are hedging themselves in. You can see on the Internet how the virus spreads around the world.
You don't notice any of this. You sit on your sailboat and sail to the Caribbean. Outside is the Atlantic and the Atlantic is blue.
The world is spinning faster and faster. Some countries impose a curfew, cut air and ferry connections, and politics starts doing crazy things. The population is said to be "completely infected" or it is pointed to the alleged author. The devil is tried many times. The stock markets fly lower than military aircraft. Health systems are facing collapse in some places. Cruise ships stay in the ports. Hotels are closed. Schools, restaurants, cinemas and brothels as well.
You don't notice much. You are sitting on your sailboat and are almost in the Caribbean. The Atlantic is blue and your ship is sailing through seaweed. Sometimes you see a dolphin or two.
It's March 16th. You are almost there and find that nobody wants to take you. The borders are closed, entry requirements have been tightened, sharper than a Japanese knife made of steel folded three hundred times. That's what our friends are doing on Chapo.
I spent an hour with the German Honorary Consul in Aruba today. The consul is very nice, but doesn't speak a word of German. This is not necessary either. She knows the right phone numbers. I get a promise that Aruba will not reject the chapo. The joy on the Chapo is great.
Then I was at the port office. The harbor master is very happy that another boat will come into the harbor. The Chapo gets the space right next to us. Now the Chapos only have to make the last 500 miles. The two Danish hitchhikers are no longer on vacation, but they have to go through it now.
The joy with us is also great. On the one hand we are looking forward to Jutta and Charly, on the other hand we are looking forward to the palette of cider that has been on board there since Lanzarote.