Life as a full-time liveaboard sailor is the epitome of freedom, the sunrises at sea, the hidden coves, the people you meet who become friends for life. But beneath the surface of paradise lies a relentless mental rollercoaster. The mind of a sailor doesn’t just navigate nautical charts, it navigates doubt, adrenaline, defeat, and resilience, often all in the same day.

This past weekend in Menorca was everything we dream of: sun-drenched adventures, magical anchorage, and beautiful new friendships. We soaked it in, knowing that our next passage — 200 nautical miles to Sardinia — was coming up. We had done our homework, eyed the weather every hour, prepped the boat inside and out. Spirits were high, the forecast stable, food ready, the dinghy packed away. All systems go.

And then… mind f*ck #1: Edwin checks the engine one last time and something is off. The starting engine is coming loose. At first, no big deal. He starts fixing it. I enter wait mode, which I’m terrible at. We’re delayed, but still hopeful.

Then, mind f*ck #2: It’s not fixable. We have a choice: find help here, or try to push through with a temporary fix and hope for repairs in Sardinia. We choose to try. Hope is a sailor’s default setting, after all and we are both eager to start the passage.

Mind f*ck #3: We’re back in go-mode, almost ready again and the starter gives up entirely. The universe says NO. We feel crushed. Edwin is just poured himself into a hellish engine compartment for hours, and it’s all for nothing. Deep breath. Regroup. Swallow pride, ditch the plan.

What now? We can’t motor out, and sailing out through a narrow canal? Risky. Tow? Maybe, but with our little dinghy Hendrickje running on fumes, not ideal. Best bet: call for help. Edwin starts reaching out to every maritime service on the island. One by one: no time. And just as we hit the bottom, a maybe. One company sounds hopeful and promises to look into their schedule. A tiny light.

We head to Mahón for fuel and to blow off some steam. Rowing there was almost the only option, but we made it, met our new friends again, had a great evening. For a moment, the storm inside settled. We even checked the weather again… but no gift there either: a front’s coming Thursday. So it’s now or wait another four, five days. Mind f*ck #4. What are you trying to tell us, cosmos?

And then comes mind f*ck #5: next morning, we find out the mechanic isn’t coming. Not now. Not in the next days. We’re stuck. No plan. No fix. Just floating — literally and mentally.

But here’s the thing about being a sailor, especially a liveaboard: your mind has no choice but to find a solution. Stuck isn’t a permanent state, it’s just a pause. Options always exist. Not always pretty. Rarely easy. But always there. Edwin is now off to find the right tools to attempt the repair himself. It’s not what he wants to do, but I know he’ll try, because that’s who he is. And if it still doesn’t work, something else will come up. It always does. We just have to stay open and keep listening.

So yes, this life comes with magic, but also with countless mindf*cks (if someone has a better word, let me know, but really, that’s the only one that fits). It’s emotional. Unpredictable. Beautiful. Brutal. And so deeply worth it. We adapt, we breathe, we listen, and we follow the path, wherever it leads.

Because that, too, is the sailor’s mind: always moving forward, even when you’re stuck.

Written by: Mirjam