I’ve hardly arrived and I’m already rushing Marko… I want to see the ‘new’ ArgoFram! Marko has made some changes and additions: the roof frame has been newly welded, then the ‘step’ in the rear of the boat (which should provide more speed) has been removed or filled in. And last but not least, the ArgoFram got a kind of extended hull, at least floats were added to both sides of the stern and the waterline was extended to increase buoyancy.

Marko ‘operated’ purely from his intuition, wants to make his baby a little better again; of course Tanel has also calculated the whole thing, but basically we all rely on Marko’s intuition and his experience. Now the motors are freshly adjusted and fixed – millimetre work.

Then it’s back on the water – whew…. My heart slips into my trousers again… This strange feeling of ultimately only limited power to deal with ‘friend water’ has to be actively managed. Marko notices this and confirms that it happens to him too; always at the beginning of the season, he too has to overcome himself, has to discover the Baltic Sea anew and let the elements have an effect on him (at least that’s what he tells me). And he adds: if you’re not afraid, you’ll soon make the stupidest mistakes.

So this fear accompanies you either way – what matters is how you deal with it. I remember a trip with him in the summer of 2020, when we brought back one of his sprinters from Finland, which broke down in the middle of the Baltic Sea. What happened? What are we going to do now?

After all, we’re bobbing near the ferry channel, and with a bit of wind from the wrong side, it soon pushes us into this exclusion zone (these ferries are moving fast on this circuit, dodging is not their thing). Marko stayed cool, checking this and that until he found the fault with the battery and got the engine running again with a booster he happened to have with him.

The key thing (for me as an apprentice) was that he immediately looked for solutions, didn’t give up, not even after setbacks, when he first guessed the fuel supply and cut the fuel cables, blew out the filters and tried this and that. In any case, all these targeted actions prevented him from giving in to fear and imagining scenarios. No, there was absolutely no time for that now.

The boat had no radio on board, no signal flares either, but Marko always carried a mobile phone with a sim card for both the Finnish and Estonian networks. And since there are always islands in the Baltic Sea with telephone antennas on them, one side or the other should always be reachable… But he didn’t want to make a phone call to be towed away – Marko has an ego!

Marko is excellently networked; the fact that everyone could talk about him if he had to be towed doesn’t suit him at all. So we continue to argue and experiment until the engine finally starts and we can continue our journey – even if only at just under ten kilometres per hour (instead of the 60 or 70 km/h normal planing speed for which this boat is designed). The main thing is to get ashore ourselves and without help…

He only phones his wife, hours later, when the boat is running again and we are about to arrive. He doesn’t want to upset her – she knows that (no news = good news). When he reaches her, he just says that everything is fine, that unfortunately he couldn’t call earlier and that it will take a little longer because of the stupid engine… That’s how it works!

Back to my test rides: every day I go out, sometimes accompanied by Marko or Andi or even Martina; when the weather is nice, we don’t miss the opportunity to combine training with pleasure. – The ArgoFram runs well, perhaps a little more ponderously than last year, and Marko reflects on the choice of propellers (angle of attack, blade size). We notice that the maximum speed is slightly lower than last year, as is the optimum speed. But overall, the upgraded ArgoFram consumes a little less fuel, which is of course much more important. What’s still great is how it ‘bites’ into the waves and is extremely true to track without losing manoeuvrability; it reacts precisely to my steering manoeuvres, is not even impressed by the wind, and gives me an enormous amount of confidence. I’m going to need that, because this year I’m heading north. The Barents Sea is waiting – who knows how far I’ll get?

Norway is open again this year (Corona is overcome). But the Russians still have their borders closed, Corona is still presented there as an insurmountable hurdle, at least officially, making entry by boat impossible. Nevertheless, I’m updating the Russian sea and waterway maps in my on-board system – maybe they’ll open the borders at some point and I’ll get in/through after all; who knows what will be in the summer?

But now the war in Ukraine is making things even more difficult. It’s putting an enormous pressure on the people here in Estonia. Many people shake their heads at me; how can I keep on making such plans? Marko and the whole crew are also very sceptical about whether going to Russia is a good idea. Especially because many of my friends here also have Russian roots or family members on the other side of the border, or in Ukraine; the Estonians are proud of their independence, and how successfully they have grown since the breakaway. But obviously the wounds have not really healed; no one around me wants to wish the Russians back.

Our discussions are often very emotional; my consciously neutral position, which either favours none of the disputants or serves both sides, is at best understood purely intellectually, but often also interpreted as cherry-picking. And it becomes clear how strongly our different histories shape us; Switzerland in the heart of Europe (and thus my socialisation) had to emerge under quite different forces, currently defending itself against the claims of the EU, whereas in Estonia the immediate border with Russia (as well as the fear of ‘them’ coming back) make some contemporaries here irritable and ready to resist at the same time (and need the EU for successful defence) – but we agree that it is important and right to explore the similarities, the unifying elements on both sides, on my way along the periphery of this continent.

I also learn that only very few people (even in Marko’s team) thought it possible at the beginning that I had even come this far in the past year. Not because of the boat, that’s top, but probably because of me, this beginner. – They were right! If I had absorbed all the things I heard during the preparations (how ‘impossible’ my project was, not only because of Corona, but above all because of the nautical requirements…), I would probably never have been able to start. But I didn’t really let myself be impressed, I always saw ‘my star’, my possibilities. They may be few, but it really wasn’t that hard to go out to sea only when it invites me to. Travelling from place to place with the ArgoFram, always starting over ‘at the bottom’, asking ‘naïve’ questions, exploring the circumstances without prejudice and processing, weighing and deciding with a certain trust, was what made my first trip possible.

I have earned respect among the participants here (which is noticeably good for me), but I will not take off because of it. On the contrary: I must continue to move forward step by step, with care and circumspection. Will I succeed? – Everyone tells me that this journey around the North Cape will be very difficult; the Barents Sea is not to be messed with. But they assure me of their full support.

I want to get as far as Kirkenes, everything else is a gift. – Let’s go.