Antonia von Lamezan
· 19.09.2026
Steph: Not just yet, anyway. I’m really happy to be back here. We’re in Munich and I’m trying to get back on my feet.
Robi: It’s much the same for me. I’m very grateful for the time I’ve had, but right now I’m just glad to be back home, close to my family.
Robi: I’m still in this settling-in phase. I’m meeting people again for the first time in three years, doing things again that simply weren’t possible any more: going to the cinema, going to a concert. It’s hard to describe the feeling. It’s a bit of everything. You start to miss the little things, like waking up in the morning and taking a dip in the water straight away. I’m trying to make up for that now at Lake Ammersee or with a cold shower.
Steph: On a boat, it’s largely the weather that decides whether you have a good day or not. Lovely weather, no swell, nothing to repair: a fantastic day. The wrong mooring spot, a swell, the engine needs servicing, and rain to boot: a bad day. And I’m already preparing myself for the moment when autumn and winter arrive, I’m sitting at my desk and thinking: What on earth am I doing here?
Steph: It was a long process. Actually, we’d originally wanted a Xenia 54. We’d even signed a contract of sale, because we didn’t want just any old charter boat. During the survey in Almerimar, however, structural defects came to light: the boat had run aground at some point, and the keel bolts had been re-laminated. In hindsight, that was a stroke of luck. That very same weekend, we viewed the Elan, which belonged to a Norwegian couple who wanted to sell it – it hadn’t even properly hit the market yet. As they often say: the boat finds you. The Norwegians were incredibly friendly, and the boat was in impeccable condition. A four-cabin version: everyone had their own cabin, plus a cabin with bunk beds. Perfect for our purposes.
Robi: No, we actually managed to sell it again for the same price. We’d made some investments, of course: we’d made the boat suitable for blue-water sailing, fitted a gear rack and upgraded the electrical system. But we got back the purchase price of the boat itself.
Robi: Steph and I, not so much, actually. That’s down to how we met: 13 years ago at High Seas High School, a ‘classroom-under-sails’ project. In 2010 and 2011, we spent six months sailing from Hamburg to the Caribbean on the traditional sailing ship ‘Johann Smidt’. After that, we sailed again as crew on the “Roald Amundsen”, spent many summers in the Baltic Sea, and went on our own charter trips in Croatia, where we also taught Nico a bit. He had hardly any sailing experience to begin with. I also worked as a sailing instructor on Lake Ammersee for many years. Shortly before setting off, we took the SKS course and completed an offshore survival training course in Elsfleth. We really did try to prepare ourselves thoroughly. But it was still a huge adventure.
Steph: The Pacific crossing took 31 days; there were five of us on board. Just the fact of being at sea for so long in such a confined space is a gruelling experience, particularly mentally. And then, whilst at anchor in Tonga, we had 60-knot winds. We’d thrown out the maximum length of anchor chain, but still drifted and had to use the engine to hold our ground. At the same time, it was chaos amongst the neighbouring boats: one’s anchor slipped, whilst another was being sailed single-handed. Fortunately, nothing happened to us.
Robi: We lost our propeller whilst still in the Mediterranean, just off Gibraltar, for reasons nobody could explain to us. We were lucky – we managed to sail to the nearest marina and were towed into harbour by the marineros. At the start of our Pacific crossing, with three-metre waves, the shackle on the genoa halyard snapped. Someone had to climb the mast. We hoisted Nico up because he was the smallest and lightest. It worked. The biggest strain, though, was the constant pressure. After 25 days at sea, you’re simply worn out.
Steph: During our Atlantic crossing, we hit a prolonged period of calm and arrived exactly one day after New Year’s Eve. For the last three days, we’d been thinking: ‘If only we’d been in the Caribbean on New Year’s Eve.’ We arrived on New Year’s Day at ten o’clock in the morning, whilst everyone was still asleep with a hangover.
Steph: That’s exactly how it is with sailing. At one point, we started calling our plans ‘ideas’ to keep our expectations in check. It’s fine to feel a general sense of anticipation, but it mustn’t be too specific. So much can change on a boat, whether due to the weather or technical issues. You have to remain flexible.
Steph: It’s not really the places themselves, but the encounters. When we say that Vanuatu was special, what we actually mean are the people we met there, not the geographical location. It’s almost always the people who stay in your memory the longest.
Steph: If we could give anyone a piece of advice: if you’re setting aside three years for a sailing trip, perhaps don’t plan right from the start to sail round the world in those three years. That puts unnecessary pressure on you. Just say: ‘I want to explore beautiful places on my sailing boat’, or: ‘I want to head for the Pacific’. And then see how far you get. If you realise you’d like to stay in the Pacific for two seasons, then so be it. Then all sorts of things are possible.
Robi: Life in a small space, the three of us – a bit like a flat-share. We didn’t end up falling out; we’re still friends. But that was the biggest challenge: three adults with different personalities and moods, living in a small space for over three years. Communication is key. Almost every issue on board affected all three of us in some way.
Steph: We’d even drawn up a prenuptial agreement beforehand.
Robi: That’s right. We’ve set out in writing how we’ll deal with potentially difficult situations. What happens if someone wants to leave? What if someone dies? What if someone wants to bring a guest along? These are scenarios that would be too emotional to discuss calmly in the heat of the moment.
Robi: I’ve learnt to live more in the here and now, not always working towards something or dwelling on the past. Just being fully present in the moment. And I was pleasantly surprised by how friendly and helpful people were almost everywhere. Whenever we had a problem, hardly anyone said: ‘That’s your problem.’ Instead, they’d say: ‘My cousin runs a garage, he’ll come along. Fancy something to eat? We’ll pop round to my granny’s – she’s cooking.’ At first, we always thought someone would want money for it at some point. It took us at least a year to get over that. Letting go of that fundamental mistrust was truly liberating. It doesn’t matter what country or what religion: if you’re nice to someone, they’ll be nice to you too.
Steph: For me, there were two things. Firstly, that positive outlook on life, which you encountered almost everywhere. In Greece, when we were back in Europe for the first time, it struck me again: suddenly there were people on the street looking at you as if the world had just come to an end. And secondly, communication. I learnt a lot about myself – how certain things come across to others, and what my weaknesses are in particular situations. That’s what I’ve taken away most from the trip.
The interview was conducted by Timm Kruse.
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