It’s been a month since our dear friends Ton and Lonneke left, and life has been anything but calm. Rest has been replaced by a constant flow of boat projects.

The plan was simple: in four or five days we would upgrade our electrical system to lithium batteries. All the materials were ready, our trusted electrician – whom we highly recommend – was lined up, and everything seemed set. But our boat is no ordinary boat. She’s older, filled with complex systems, and we want to keep her in excellent condition. That means every job takes more time than expected.

To make space, the starter motor of the generator had to be moved. Old cables were ripped out. And as always, new surprises appeared along the way, requiring extra parts to be ordered. What we thought would be a week’s work stretched into much longer. The good news is that it’s done properly, and we now have a far better power supply, one that allows us to live self-sufficiently. Still, a project of this scale really belongs in a shipyard, ideally with the boat out of the water and uninhabited.

Living aboard during the works was tough. Cables ran from bow to stern, everything had to be opened up, and at night it all needed to be closed again so we could still live inside. Philou and I spent most of our days by the pool, not the worst place to be, but far from peaceful. On top of that, more problems popped up. Our engine started leaking salt water, which meant waiting two weeks for a mechanic, only to be told we could keep sailing for now but needed spare parts as soon as possible. Then we discovered the cooling system was using too much energy and might be failing – another specialist needed. And to top it all off, this week our bow thruster broke down too. At first it seemed impossible to repair underwater… but yesterday, with a little help from friends, we managed to fix it. A small victory that felt huge.

Every week we thought we were nearly finished, and yet something else came up. In the middle of all this, Edwin flew back to the Netherlands to finalise the handover of our house. Meanwhile, Philou and I carried on as best we could.

Life on board demands flexibility, and we’ve learnt a lot about ourselves. But it can also lead to friction. Edwin doesn’t mind the chaos; he focuses on the task at hand. I, on the other hand, need a calm and uncluttered space to stay balanced. Quiet moments to write or simply take in my surroundings are vital for me. Without them, I lose energy quickly. These past weeks have drained me more than I could have imagined. Long days with Philou, managing work and now school, constant people around, and a boat turned upside down have left me tired, sleepless, and short-tempered.

It sounds strange, doesn’t it? Hard to believe even? Living on a boat in such a beautiful place, lounging by the pool, surrounded by kind people – and yet feeling the opposite of relaxed, a little burned-out even. But that’s my reality. My mind never stops; it’s always racing with solutions. This time though, the answer doesn’t lie in thinking. It lies in letting go. It lies in feeling. In putting myself first again. In taking better care of myself, getting healthy, resting properly, and learning to return home to myself.

That’s our focus for the coming weeks. We’ll start moving again, slowly continuing our journey. We’re looking forward to visits from my mum and friends. And most importantly, we’ll take care of ourselves, each in our own way. Step by step, we’ll find our way back to recharged batteries. The boat’s power system is ready – now it’s time for ours.

Sometimes the hardest journey is the one back to yourself.

Written by: Mirjam