On the Hardlon:-75.5;lat:10.4;postdate:sep 11 27;pos:Cartagena, Colombia

HenrikWe're hauled out in Manzanillo Marina Club, a recommendable Marina in Cartagena. On our last trip to Panama, the rudder almost fell off, so we will repair it and put it back on the boat before we sail any further.

We will stay here until the 10th of October and then we will fly to St Marteen for a few months of super hard super yacht maintenance work.

If everything goes according to our intentions, we will be back in Cartagena, rich and happy, in March next year, and sail straight to Colon and the Panama Canal.

Tonight we will barbeque chicken kebabs.

In Shortlon:-75.5;lat:10.4;postdate:aug 11 4;pos:Cartagena, Colombia

HenrikWe are in Cartagena, Colombia. Will explore Colombia and Panama before going through the Panama canal in February next year. Going to cross the Pacific and arrive in Australia, the country of my dreams, in late 2012.

Curaçao no morelon:-68.95178;lat:12.10247;postdate:jun 11 1;pos:1 nmi west of Willemstad, Curaçao

CalleThere were doubts, but eventually the day came even for us to leave Curaçao.

We do it with a brand new engine that we finally think we can rely upon when crossing that other side of the planet that is just nothing but very much of water. With Yanmar, the successor to Volvo Penta, Pour Bon made some proud seven knots against the wind when testing the other day - twice what she did with Penta and even more compared to those times when Penta were simply not working.

We also do it with the most poisonous anti-fouling available for money and not much left of the later. Not only, to be honest, because of the new engine, but also with the best of memories from 88 (!) days on Wet and Wild, Zanzibar, Klein Curaçao, Christoffelberg, Saint Tropéz, Queensday, the Carnival, the garden of Hotel Scharloo, Norman's and wherever else.

We've made more friends than ever before since we left home (and taken too many of them to the airport to wave them goodbye, that's not how it's meant to be when sailing). You made us survive those months grounded on Curaçao, and you certainly will make us miss the island.

Next stop will be Cartagena, Colombia. You will always find us at the little yellow dot in the map to the left of here. Whenever you come around, let us know!

Update on the situationlon:-68.92413;lat:12.11136;postdate:may 11 10;pos:Willemstad, Curaçao

CalleAnother few weeks just passed for the deroes, still waiting for their new engine to be installed. They've moved ashore, enjoying the great hospitality of Camilla, with air-con, fresh-water showers and a washing machine. They've teamed up with new and old friends, they've got a car and they've been on booze cruise 2.0. Life's cruel for the deroes (photos to the right).

Estimated time of departure seems to be in one and a half week from now. After that, they won't stop until there is a fragrance in the air of another BBQ hosted by Team Can't.

We can be deroeslon:-68.8576;lat:12.0782;postdate:apr 11 12;pos:4 nmi east of Willemstad, Curaçao

CalleKerstin has left Pour Bon behind, and the abandoned three of us has turned into deroes.

A dero - a term made up by Jason and Jimi, some kiwis we met here on Curaçao - is what's left of a yachtie when he's no longer an adventurer on the move, instead doing nothing but living on his yacht in the very same water for an indefinite time. We met a lot of them back in Chaguaramas, Trinidad, and there's a community of them on Curaçao as well. Eventually the dero runs out of money and kitchen gas, and will eat what's left in the stoveaways that doesn't need to be cooked. Such as German sauerkraut. The three deroes of Pour Bon are drinking lukewarm coffee, having cans of sauerkraut.

We're doing our seventh week in Spansee Waters, Curaçao. Very dero. Pour Bon has virtually turned into a reef, so has Stefan. We know everything about our fellow dero-neighbours, over-hearing their chat on the VHF, and we wave at Joe the Mechanic the dozen or so times a day he goes by in his wooden dinghy, we always sitting in the cockpit occasionally drinking rum but most of the time doing nothing but being deroes.

A long time ago, some stranger described yours truly as a guy that "does more before 9 am than the army does the whole day". As stated, that may not be accurate anymore. Jason and Jimi, however, climbs a mountain or two (or running, preferably) before dawn, and probably drinks more after dusk than regular sergeant macho does in a year.

We met them through the later habit (on Wet and Wild, where else?) and sort of fell in love. Their boat Can't (imagine that name pronounced in papiamento over a crackly radio) could be Pour Bon anytime, with just a few differences.

For example, Can't has an engine and a stereo, both of them in working condition. Can't has a blender that makes piña coladas and a freezer that makes beer cold. Can't is spacious, even so that there's an entire box dedicated for silly hats and dress-up clothes - the kind of things that goes perfect with a camera with autofocus turned off. And when Can't goes on a booze-cruise, kindly bringing three odd deroes along, there's some five or six gorgeous women doing the bikini-dance on deck, not to mention the jetskis, the wakeboarding, the BBQ in sunset, the whole deal.

Then back home, get some rest before sunshine, then run up that mountain and went straight to another happy hour at Wet and Wild.

Eventually, Can't also left us. So again we're having sauerkraut and lukewarm coffee, waving to Joe the Mechanic and having the highlight of the day when emptying the blackwater tank into the calm water around us.

Clearly, the deroes miss the kiwis.