The biggest crisis
A stamp is missing here!" - "Pulse under 28": These two unsettling statements echoed in my ears, pounded like hammers against my skull, made my heart skip a beat. "There's a stamp missing from your transport authorisation. You are not allowed to continue with your ship!" - "Kerstin, your father was hospitalised with a blood pressure of less than 28." I had thought the worst was already behind me. It had been difficult enough to get the ship ready for the journey from Hamburg to Berlin....
In order for us to start, my ship had to be filled with enough ballast, it had to be deep enough in the water to pass under all the bridges. One day before the planned departure, we realised that we were ten centimetres short. Ten centimetres is a lot when you have to lower a 25-metre-long, 25-tonne ship that far. But we succeeded, and now we had to move a 400-kilogram rudder without damaging the ship or people - and then the fun part of the journey finally began.
And it got worse
"Nothing can go wrong now," I thought, "we'll be in Berlin in two days."
But that was a mistake. I hadn't reckoned with the German bureaucracy. It caught up with us at 3.55 pm at the lock near Brandenburg an der Havel.
"There's a stamp missing here!" said a water police officer, pointing to the spot in question with a critical eye. "Stamp and signature," it said. The officer who had issued the document had only signed it. "Without a stamp, the document is invalid," the police officer stated, "You are not allowed to continue your journey!"
We pointed out with the tongues of angels that it was the right form, faxed from the right authority and signed by one of the employees there. But a missing stamp in Germany is serious. The police officer did not want to decide this on his own. He contacted the next authority by telephone.
The call to the supervisor at 4.02 pm was unsuccessful. "We're off duty at 4 pm. We'll be open again tomorrow at 9 a.m., then we'll clarify whether you can continue." - "Tomorrow at 9.00 am? We wanted to drive another seven hours today to get as close to Berlin as possible!" - "Sorry, I'm off work now! See you tomorrow!" The boys from the escort boat grumbled, as they would be separated from their girlfriends for an extra day. This was particularly painful for the younger of the two, who had just fallen in love. Besides, few things can shake a sailor as much as not being able to do anything: we were stuck and powerless against petty bureaucracy. It wasn't our fault that the official had forgotten to stamp the authorisation before faxing it.
The law is the law: without a stamp, the transport was considered illegal - this "offence" would later cost me, the client, 875 euros. I like to say: "An evening out is a crisis that you have chosen for yourself." But even for my taste, this was too much of a crisis.
"Will they even let us drive on? What will we do if they keep us here?" - "There will be a way," my friend Rosemarie Stresemann tried to cheer me up. It was easy for her to say. The responsibility was mine.
The disaster news
In the midst of the tension, my mum called me: "Your father has been admitted to hospital. His blood pressure was below 28." I knew just enough about medicine to know that a pulse should be around 80 rather than 28, and I realised that you could keel over at any time with blood pressure that low.
So much for the extract from Leinen los. How I built a houseboat in the centre of Berlin to live my dream.
How things continued after this violent night and how after 1001 others Crises I will tell you how the dream of a house and seminar ship came true at a reading on board on Saturday 11 April.
And I'll show you the ship.
So you can be there:
1. order the book Leinen los with dedication here
2 I'll write you a personal dedication in the book
3. you can attend the live reading and tour of the ship or watch the recording.
DO WE SEE OURSELVES?
