Damn it, it happened. Odin rammed and sank an unlit fishing boat.

It's one thing to jump at night on a sleeping whale or one of the thousands of containers that go overboard from cargo ships worldwide every year, posing a danger to shipping, but Asia offers an additional attraction for the thrill-seeking adrenaline junkie.
Unlit fishing boat, which is neither visible in nature nor on radar and certainly not on the AIS (Automatic Identification System).
This is one of the reasons why we avoid sailing at night near the coast in Asia.
This time, however, it couldn't be helped. Our supplies ran out, and so did our stay on the wonderful Anambas Islands of Indonesia.
In order to cover the distance ahead to the Malaysian Peninsula within 36 hours so that we could arrive in daylight the next day, we had to weigh anchor in the dark at 4:00 a.m.
Nowadays, in the age of LED lights and cheap flashing lights, you'd think even the most hardened fisherman would have stocked up on these things out of self-interest. But thinking, and Asian fishermen, is a tricky business.
We are motoring from our anchorage towards the open sea.
Everywhere we see the flashing lights of the fishing boats in the pitch-black night.
Course northeast, 295 degrees. Frel is on lookout at the bow and sets off into the pitch-black night. Suddenly she shouts BOAT!
She hadn't even finished speaking when there was already a crash.
I cut the engine and rush onto the foredeck. Chaos. In the beam of my flashlight, I first see buckets, plastic containers, and planks... and then, at the bow of Odin, a fishing boat hurtling incredibly fast towards the depths.
Where is the fisherman?
We discover him among all the floating objects that have not made their way to the seabed.
I'm furious and I yell at him in German: "YOU COMPLETE IDIOT, YOU ASSHOLE, WHO SHIT IN YOUR BRAIN TO LIE DOWN TO SLEEP IN AN UNLIGHTED BOAT AT NIGHT ON THE SEA? THAT'S JUST..."
Frel interrupts my angry outburst. "Damn it, he can't swim."
A fisherman who cannot swim and beats the water pitifully with his hands, repeatedly sinking.
Well done!
Frel throws him a lifebuoy. He grabs it, and also a plastic crate floating next to him containing his few captured fishes. (Well, priorities, I guess!)
We pull him and his crate of fish on board and give him a blanket because he's shivering and freezing from shock. The water is 26 degrees!
What do we do with him now?
Other fishermen in the vicinity have witnessed the accident and are approaching.
Daybreak is now beginning.
We are now driving with our rescued superbrain towards his village.
Using gestures and broken language, the other, ever-increasing number of fishermen try to explain to me that there's no police involved. It's a family matter and is settled in the traditional Indonesian way.
The family arrives, accompanied by the village chief. The situation is clear. The culprit is the genius who sleeps in his boat at night on the open sea without a light.
So far so good.
I don't think I should have any false hopes regarding potential claims for damages to Odin.
It's on the house!
But what comes next is the Indonesian Muslim village law called Uang Kompensasi: this is the common term for financial compensation.
Regardless of whether one is guilty or not, the injured party must be paid "compensation" so that he can continue to live his life despite the loss.
Learned something new again: Uang Kompensas!
Travel broadens the mind!
This whole process has been going on for hours. The village headman speaks a few words of English, and so we manage to reach an agreement.
The fisherman we pulled from the sea, the reason for this spectacle, says nothing and sits on one of the other fishing boats that rushed to our aid, looking miserable, and we feel really sorry for him.
We agree to pay the fisherman US$2000 for his sunken boat and, as a parting gift, give him an LED flashing light with batteries so that this doesn't happen to him again.
In the end everyone is happy, but we are $2000 poorer.
Conclusion: Odin is a very strong and stable ship which incredibly mastered this adventure without damage, and the Anambas Islands were a beautiful but very expensive experience.