Soft light falls on this summer morning through the dusty windows and the open gate into the shipyard hall. In an almost devotional atmosphere, the hull of the Marabu rises towards the hall ceiling. But the eye of the beholder inevitably falls upon the large mountain of wood debris, cable clutter and other furnishings piled up beneath the rear of the MARABU.
As an uninvolved person, you almost don't hear the loud crashing sound that comes in at irregular intervals from the courtyard - loud noises are not uncommon on a value.
Silke Martin is the first person to explain this noise:"I had the big dumpster emptied again, so there's room for all the garbage from MARABU."
 
Alone I lack the courage to climb the high ladder to the deck of the cruiser together with my camera equipment. So I wait a moment until boat builder Axel returns with the wheelbarrow in his hands from his hollow lap. He doesn't know yet that I'm on the way again for a boatbuilding project at Martin-Yachts and this time I'm going to stick to his heels. He is not so complicated and his expression tells me that he agrees to the "thing".
 
So it goes first up and then down into the belly of MARABU. Although I was shockt the last time. But what strikes me now almost brings tears into my eyes for a short moment. Well, that's what they call "slaughtered", and it's a smell I've never noticed so intensely - although I'm quite familiar with old boats.
"That's the rust," Axel explains. And then there is the humidity, the rotting wood with all the dust. "When you come on a ship and it smells like this, you know." I'm nodding. He's grabbing a crowbar.
 
MARABU groans and moans like in the heaviest of seas, screws tearing out of their anchors, wood bursting. Chips and dust trickle from the deck, rust bursts in chunks of iron fittings.
Occasionally the tool is changed. Sledge hammers or bolt cutters are then used.
"Is such a job bad for you?" I ask carefully. "No, more exciting. One learns something new again and again with such a thing ". Or is it perhaps the image in front of his inner eye on which MARABU, after years of decay, proudly plows through the world's oceans under full sail with its hull?
After breaking apart the frame of a dog's bunk, Axel pauses for a moment and points to the handcrafted connection of the two wooden parts made of slot and cone. "That's old, no one would do such fine work today" he says. The two pieces fly over the coaming board in a high arc and crash into the garbage heap underneath the rear of the MARABU.