We can see the mountains of Ibiza at the horizon as the phone rings and we read the message from Felix and Anh. “Yo guys! Call us wen ur phones are switched on again! We're already in Ibiza and really excited to meet you! Luv ya and Liv!”
Hours later at sunset Liv moors at a buoy in Tamanca Bay, next to Ibiza town. We launch our tender an throw our SUP in the water. We finally are at “the Isand”, it feels good after 4 days of non-stop sailing, we're full of energy. After a dozen phone calls and a half marathon by Basti, Felix and Anh are finally sitting next to us in Liv's cockpit. We grab a bottle of Campari and then, “Cheers!”
While we all fall asleep winds and swell are getting stronger and stronger – we three boys wake up every 15 minutes to check the situation. It seems like we would be adrift and as there are only 1.1 meters left beneath our keel we decide to leave the bay. As we lift the anchor (which we dropped as an assurance) we realize how good this decision was, our buoy is more than 30 meters closer to the shore than before.
Half an hour later we enter the Marina Ibiza with its decadent flair. High masts and extra long yachts around us and a hundred meters next to us is the 150 meters long “PRINCE”. Her owner, the sheikh of Saudi Arabia, is one of Ibiza's permanent guests. He always gets the best table in the PASCHA, even if Dagobert Duck booked this table for the evening. Twice a week you can dance there to David Guetta's live performance “fk me, I'm famous” We ordinary mortals with a 12 meter yacht without any treasure chests have to pay 80 euros to sweat next to 2000 other people, drunk or high, who want to live the “fk me I'm famous” theme. We say “no thanks”, set sails to reach Malaga and think fuck off to the “F**k me, i'm famous”-thing.
