“There might be nothing” I said to my buddy on the foredeck.

It's a week ago since we set sail and for the first time, there was literally nothing to be seen all around the horizon. With the sun hiding away behind a thick layer of grey clouds, our view was remarkably monochromatic. We were in the centre of a half globe, spanning about 20 nautical miles, gently rocking – some all but unfriendly rain drops coming from the sky.

The distinct fun part was: we just couldn't de-confirm that anything beyond our view had been gone forever. Naturally, this is always true but in our case, there were no phenomena that linked us to the outside world to be found. At night, you might feel deserted out there but in a way, you can navigate using celestial bodies. Now, it was just our beautiful Bark in endless grey. Or was it endless? Could we just coincidentally at the centre of a really tiny, pointless universe?

Then, two little birds came into view. Knowing that we were quite a distance away from shore, I was taken by a bit of surprise that those tiny things, that did not look like migrating birds, would reach us. They were dancing in sky, seemingly having a great time.

So many things you expect for a journey like this, and some you don't. For now, let me just share  a single funny one with you, though: my face is glowing all time. I'm not sunburnt, just out at sea all the time and I feel it on my forehead and cheeks when I go to sleep. I feel healthy and vibrant.

Love to everyone at home!