Ples vetra in morja: Ples vetra in morja /// The Dance of the Sea and ...

Ples vetra in morja: Ples vetra in morja /// The Dance of the Sea and ...: Potovati in napisati potopis; že od davnih srednejšolskih let je bila to moja največja želja. A ker nisem nikamor potovala, tudi pisati ni...

UJETNIKA NA PREMUDI

Samoten in z gostim drevjem obdan zaliv se nama je
tisti trenutek zazdel kot košček raja na zemlji. Bil je jasen
in sončen dan, ki sva ga hotela izkoristiti za počitek in
plavanje. Tudi prenočiti sva nameravala tam, kajti zaliv je bil
dobro zavarovan proti sunkom burje, ki so jo za tisto noč
napovedovali vremenoslovci.
Z Vihro sva pristala na otoku Premuda. Za seboj sva imela
dolgo pot, ki se je ob menjajočih se vetrovih vlekla iz Unij
mimo Suska, pred seboj pa težko pričakovani, prijeten
popoldanski počitek v tihem zalivu.
Kapitan Pavle je kot vedno ob takih priložnostih-(iskanju
primernega sidrišča)- stal na premcu in pozorno opazovalvodo pred seboj. Ker je bila kristalno čista, je zlahka videl
dno in mu zato ni bilo težko najti primernega mesta za sidro.
Jaz sem medtem v kokpitu krmarila in budno spremljala
dogajanje. Brnenje motorja in sedemmetrska razdalja med
nama sta nama dopuščala le sporazumevanje z rokami. Takoj,
ko je Pavle odvrgel sidro, sem izključila motor in objela naju
je spokojna tišina, ki jo je prekinjalo le ptičje petje.
Nekaj trenutkov kasneje je tišino prekinil nenavaden, sršeč in
hrumeč zvok. Nenadoma so z vseh strani nad naju privršale
drobne živalice in kar naenkrat sva se znašla sredi roja os.
Kot teman, grozeč oblak so se vsule nad naju.
Stala sva v kokpitu, opletala z rokami sem ter tja, da bi jih
prepodila, medtem ko je nad nama kot velikanska rumena
krogla žarelo zgodnje popoldansko sonce.
“Dajva, skočiva v vodo, mogoče bodo šle stran,” sem
predlagala v tihem upanju, da se bo zgodilo prav to.
“Verjetno imaš prav. Suša je prehuda, pa so najbrž žejne.
Močno jih privlačiva, ker sva vsa prepotena. Mogoče bo po
kopeli bolje, slana jih ne bova več privabljala,”je pametno
ugotavljal moj kapitan.
Rečeno, storjeno.Vendar ose niso bile enakih misli kot midva.
Še v vodi nisva imela miru pred njimi. Pred oči so mi živo
stopile slike iz filma Alfreda Hitchocka Ptiči. Le da sva bila
midva nemočna pred osami in ne pred ptiči različnih vrst.
Kar nekaj časa sva prebila v vodi. Ob tem pa neprenehoma
opazovala barko in dogajanje na njej. Ne samo videla,ampak tudi slišala sva najine goste, ki so kot ogromna
množica radovednih raziskovalcev krožili okrog barke in se
usedali nanjo.
Nedolgo zatem naju je mraz spet pognal na barko in ugotovila
sva, da najin umik v vodo ni prinesel nobenih bistvenih
sprememb. Zato sva se tesno zaprla v kajuto in v kratkem
posvetu pripravila bojni načrt. Predvideval je pobeg, umik
z bojišča. Ukrepati sva morala zelo hitro, če sva se hotela
izogniti hudim težavam zaradi peklenske vročine v kabini.
Odločila sva se, da se oblečeva tako, da nama ose nikakor ne
bodo mogle škodovati. Oči in dlani sva pustila odkrite, vse
druge dele telesa pa sva zavarovala z oblačili.
V oblekah nama je hitro postalo prevroče, vendar sva upala, da
se bova pred nadlego rešila že s premikom v sosednji zaliv.
Račun brez krčmarja, kajti očitno je bil ves otok njihov dom.
Edina rešitev bi najbrž bil popoln umik z otoka, toda kam bi
lahko šla? Še najbližji je bil otok Škarda, ampak tisti trenutek
se nama je zdel precej oddaljen. Jadranja sva imela za tisti
dan dovolj.
Za povrh je začela vse močneje pihati burja, ki so jo sicernapovedovali, vendar naj bi začela pihati pozneje, šele
ponoči. Kljub bojno razpoloženim osam se je zdelo najbolje,
da ostaneva.
Zatekla sva se v kajuto in tam ostala ves preostanek
popoldneva in večji del večera. Na svež morski zrak, toplo
sonce, čisto modro nebo, kopanje, sončenje, branje ali
počivanje v senci sva popolnoma pozabila. S težavo sva si
skuhala celo kosilo. Da sva ga lahko pripravila, sva morala
nujno na zrak, v kokpit, kar je obema prineslo neprijetneposledice. Meni dva osja pika, Pavletu pa štiri.
V notranjosti seveda ni bilo prijetno. Vročina je ob prižganem
plinskem gorilniku in tesno zapretem prostoru postajala
neznosna.
Močno sva se potila in ves čas upala, da se naju bodo ose
naveličale. Povsem varna pred njimi tudi tam namreč nisva
bila. Ose so odkrile skrivni vhod, ki ga nikakor nisva uspela
zapreti in skozenj so ves čas prihajale na obisk. Ne vem, ali
je kje v navadi, da nepovabljenega gosta ubiješ. Toda midva
sva delala prav to. Pavle je celo odkril prefinjeno metodo,
po kateri sva lahko mirno sedela vsak na svoji strani mize v
salonu in le s škatlico cigaret (polno ali prazno) pokončala
vsako nepovabljeno gostjo na okenskem steklu, kamor so
se zatekle vse, ki so prišle noter. Zaletavale so se v okno, se
lepile nanj in strmele skozenj. Očitno jih je pogled ven tako
premamil, da se od njega niso mogle več odtegniti.
Počasi se je na okenski polici, pa tudi pod njo nagrmadilo
več kot sto mrtvih os. Vse moralne pomisleke, ki so me
preganjali ob najinih zares barbarskih dejanjih, sem odgnala
z mislijo, da je to očiten boj za preživetje.
Kajti že dva osja pika sta mi takoj povzročila bolečine in
veliko rdečo in srbečo oteklino. Ko me je nekaj mesecev
pozneje na celini pičila osa, sem imela hudo reakcijo in sem
morala po zdravniško pomoč. Na ose sem očitno, čeprav ne
vem od kdaj, alergična.
Šele proti večeru je naval os toliko pojenjal, da sva se v
miru skopala in umila v toplem morju. Zvečer sva lahko celo
dobro urobrez skrbi posedela v kokpitu.
Noč je bila povsem mirna, spokojna. Najini nasprotniki sotrdno pozaspali. Poslušala sva prijetne glasove škržatov in z
upanjem na premirje z osami z veseljem pričakovala jutranje
petje ptic.
Ob šestih zjutraj naju je zbudil nenaden, močan sunek vetra.
Ampak veter, ki se je pokazal v vsej svoji celovitosti, ni
bila burja, tamveč lebič. Pred njim sva bila v zalivu, ki sva
ga izbrala za zatočišče proti burji, povsem nezaščitena. Že
prvi pogled skozi okno naju je popolnoma prebudil. Prav
nevarno sva se že približala obali. Še nekaj metrov, pa bi se z
barko vred znašla na skalah. Najine ose so verjetno še spale
in tako sva se lahko posvetila le enemu sovražniku-vetru.
Ta naju je z valovi vred vztrajno potiskal proti skalam na
obali. Pavle je s težavo dvignil sidro, jaz sem prav tako s
težavo vžgala motor in se z njegovo pomočjo premaknila
proč od obale, v sredino zaliva. Za vsak primer sva poleg
danforta v vodo vrgla še admiralca. Poskrbela sva še za
dodaten varnostni ukrep. Z vrvjo sva se privezala na obalo.
Z velikimi težavami sva počasi v rešilnem čolnu veslala nazaj
na barko in si pri tem pomagala tudi z vrvjo, ki je jadrnico
vezala na obalo. V čolniču sva bila deležna prve hladne
jutranje prhe, ki je sicer nisva želela, a sva jo hočeš nočeš
morala sprejeti. Na sebi sva še vedno imela le nočni srajci.
Preoblekla sva se in se precej utrujena vrnila v posteljo.
Na ose sva popolnoma pozabila, vendar pa one niso pozabile na naju. Še preden sva vstala iz postelje, so že začele vdirati
v barko in do poldneva, ko sva končno zapustila bojišče, se
jih je na okenskih policah nabralo vsaj trideset.
Bežala sva torej proti jugu in z veseljem ugotavljala, da jih je
vse manj. Ampak povsem izginile niso prav hitro, saj naju jenekaj žuželk spremljalo še več dni. Šele na otoku Zverinac,
nasproti Božave, sva po temeljitem pregledu ugotovila, da
naju je sovražnik povsem zapustil.

Prisoners in Premuda

We docked in a bay of the island of Premuda. Secluded and
surrounded by dense forest, the bay seemed to be a little bit of
paradise on earth. It was a clear and sunny day and we wanted
to take advantage of it to swim and get some rest. We plannedon spending the night there as well, since the bay was well
protected from the Bora, which had been forecast for that night.
We had a long journey ahead of us, which stretched between
Unije and Susak against variable winds. But right now, we desperately
needed a long-awaited afternoon rest in the peaceful bay.
As he always did when he was searching for a suitable anchoring
place, Captain Pavle stood on the stern and attentively observed
the water before him. Since the water was crystal clear, he could
easily see the bottom and so he had no difficulty finding a suitable
spot for the anchor. In the meantime, I navigated in the cockpit
and attentively monitored what was going on. The humming of
the engine and seven-metre distance between us forced us to
communicate with each other using our hands. As soon as Pavle
dropped the anchor, I turned off the engine and we were then
embraced by a peaceful silence, which was only interrupted by
singing birds.
Some moments later, the silence was broken by an unusual
bristling and humming noise. Suddenly, tiny little creatures began
appearing from all directions and we found ourselves in the middle
of a swarm of wasps. In the form of a dark, horrific cloud, they
poured over us.
We stood in the cockpit waving our arms to and fro to drive
them away, as the early afternoon sun shone above us like a giant
yellow ball.
‘Let’s jump in the water. Maybe they’ll go away,’ I suggested,
silently hoping this would work.
‘You’re probably right,’ agreed Pavle. ‘The drought is too much
for them to handle and they’re probably thirsty. They’re attracted
to us because we’re so sweaty. Maybe it will be better after we
soak in there a while. We won’t attract them if we’re salty,’ my
captain concluded intelligently.
And so this is what we did. But the wasps didn’t have the
same plans as we did. They did not even leave us alone when
we were in the water. Scenes from the Alfred Hitchcock film The
Birds began passing before my eyes. Except that it was wasps we
were defenceless against wasps, rather than different types of birds.
We remained in the water for quite some time. We continuously
observed the boat and the happenings on it. We did not only
see our guests, but could also hear them as, like a crowd of
curious researchers, they circled around the boat and then sat
themselves down on it.
Soon after, the cold forced us back onto the boat and we
realised that going into the water had not really changed anything.
For this reason, we sealed ourselves shut in the cabin and had a
short meeting to prepare a battle strategy. Pavle foresaw an escape,
a retreat from the battlefield. We had to act quickly if we wanted
to avoid serious problems because of the hellish heat in the cabin.
We decided to dress protectively, so the wasps could do no harm
to us. We left our eyes and hands exposed; all our other body
parts were covered.
It was much too hot in these clothes, but we hoped to solve
this waspish annoyance by moving to the neighbouring bay.
But obviously this entire island was their home. The only
solution probably was to retreat from the island altogether. But
where would we go? The closest island was ˇSkarda, but at that
moment, it seemed so far away. We had had enough sailing for
that day.
To top it off, the Bora began blowing stronger and stronger.
It had been forecast to do so, but it was only supposed to start
later on at night. So, in spite of the battling wasps, we decided
it was best to stay.
We ran to the cabin and stayed there the remainder of the
afternoon and a greater part of the evening. We completely forgot
about the fresh sea air, the warm sun, the clear blue sky, swimming,
sunbathing or relaxing in the shade. We had great difficulty
preparing lunch. In order to prepare it, we desperately needed to
get some air, which brought unpleasant consequences with it. I
got stung twice and Pavle did four times.
Of course, being inside was not pleasant. The heat on top of
the gas stove in this closed room was unbearable.
We were sweating a great deal, and the entire time we hoped
that the wasps would finally grow tired of us. It turns out that
we were not completely safe from them there either. The wasps
had discovered a hidden entrance which we had not covered up
successfully, and they continued to visit us. I am not sure whether
or not it is the custom in any part of the world to kill uninvited
guests, but that is just what we did. Pavle even discovered a very
noble method of doing so. We each sat at our own side of the
table and, using only a cigarette box (full or empty); we put each
and every uninvited guest out of their misery by squishing them
against the window that they had immediately flown to when
they came in. They would crash into the window, stick to it and
gaze through it. The view had obviously intoxicated them to such
an extent that they could not leave.
Gradually a pile of several hundred dead wasps began to
accumulate on the windowsill, as well as beneath it. I disregarded
any moral qualms that might have prevented me from carrying
out our barbaric act, since this was obviously a fight for survival.
Two wasp stings had immediately caused me a great deal of
pain and led to a large, red and itchy inflammation. When I was
stung by a wasp on the mainland a few months later, I had a
bad reaction and had to seek medical assistance. I am obviously
allergic to wasp stings, though I don’t know how long I have had
this allergy.
It was only towards evening that the wasps finally settled down
and we were finally able to bathe in the warm sea. After that,
we were able to sit in the cockpit for a good hour without any
worries.
The night was completely calm and peaceful. Our opponents
had fallen into a deep sleep. We listened to the pleasant cicada
voices and happily anticipated the morning song of birds, while
hoping for a truce with the wasps.
At six in the morning, we were awoken by a sudden, powerful
thrust of wind. The wind that had come out in all its force was
not the Bora, but the Libeccio. We were completely unprotected
from it in the bay, which we had chosen for shelter against the
Bora. The first peek we took through the window completely
woke us up. We were already approaching the shore at a dangerous
rate. Only a few more metres and we would crash into the rocks.
Our wasps were still asleep and so we were able to focus on our
other enemy: the wind.
Together with the waves, it was persistently pushing us towards
the rocks on the shore. Pavle lifted the anchor with great difficulty;
I had just as much difficulty starting up the engine and, with its
help, moving away from the shore to the middle of the bay.
Besides the Danforth anchor, we also threw the Admiral in, just
in case. We also took an additional safety precaution: we tied the
boat to the shore using a rope. We slowly rowed back to the
sailboat in our lifeboat with great difficulty, using the rope to
help us get back. We got our first cold morning shower in that
lifeboat; we didn’t want one, but we had to accept it, whether
we liked it or not. We were still wearing our nightshirts. We
changed our clothes and returned to bed, as we were extremely
tired.
We had completely forgotten about the wasps, but they had
not forgotten about us. They began breaking into the ship while
we were still sleeping and by noon, when we finally left the
battlefield, about thirty of them had gathered on the windowsill.
As we fled southward, we were happy to discover that there
were fewer and fewer of them. However, they did not disappear
quickly, as some of these stubborn insects followed us for days.
It was only when we arrived at the island of Zverinac, opposite
Boˇzava, that, after performing a thorough inspection, we discovered
our enemy had completely deserted us.

THE DANCE OF THE SEA AND THE WIND

TRANSLATED BY    ELIZABETA     ŽARGI

Book Guild Publishing Sussex,

INTRODUCTION

Since the days of my early youth, I have been crazy about the
sea. Not about sunbathing, swimming and lying about on the
beach. I admired the scent of the sea, the different colours in
which the sea was clad, and the soft and tiny waves, as well as
the large and loud waves, with which the wind would play.
I would observe the sailboats with their wide, white split sails,
as they navigated the sea with such ease, as though skating on
ice. Most of all, while sitting on the shore, I felt how broad the
path offered to us by the open sea was, as well as the various
countries it could lead us to.
No summer holidays passed without me spending at least a
few days by its side.
I was partially to blame when in 1998 my friend Pavle bought
a twenty-year-old eight-metre-long sailboat. When we took the
sailboat for a test drive with its original owner, we found out
that we were born to sail. During the next four years, we spent
over 250 days and nights in that boat. This was one of the most
beautiful periods of my life.
I will share some of my most thrilling and interesting experiences
with you. Just as the sea constantly changes, so do the stories
that are connected to it.
ix

CONTENTS

Contents
Foreword vii
Introduction ix
1 Dreams Come True 1
2 The First Summer Adventure 11
3 The Story Goes On 29
4 From Umag to Corfu 35
5 Home, as Soon as Possible! 59
6 Sleepless Nights 73
7 The Boat under the Spruce Trees 81
8 The Wild Dance of the Wind and the Sea 85
9 Riding the Waves 89
10 An Insane Friday 93
11 Komiˇza on the Island of Vis 97
12 Hell on Loˇsinj 101
13 Thirty Days of Dead Calm 105
14 Kalimera Elada 111
Conclusion 133
v

VSEBINA KNJIGE

Uresničene sanje
Veliki lov se začne
Prvi poskus
Sanje se uresničujejo
Zadnji decembrski dan
Žurka
Nori pomladni dnevi
Zgodba še ni končana
Prva poletna avantura
Odhod
Noč brez sna
Najbolj neumen kmet ima …
Končno Kornati
Prazna shramba
Zgodba se nadaljuje
Ujetnika na Premudi
Ravni Žakan
Iz Umaga na Krf-ladijski dnevnik
Tema
Sama in nemočna
Boj z maestralom
Orientacija po kopalcih
Zmešnjava
Končno v postelji
Čimprej domov -ladijski dnevnik
Neprespane noči
Barka izpod smrek
Divji ples vetra in morja
Jahanje na valovih
Petek, da te kap
Komiža na Visu
Pekel na Lošinju
Trideset dni bonace
Kalimera Elada -ladijski dnevnik

THE DANCE OF THE SEA AND THE WIND// INTRODUCTION

Slovenian schoolteacher Barbara Cirman and her
friend Pavle have virtually no experience of sailing
when they decide to invest in a boat. Smitten with
the idea of taking to the water in a vessel of their own,
they buy Maelstrom and, well, the rest is history.
Recounted from Barbara’s log book and diary
entries, this charming book chronicles the pair’s
adventures sailing around the beautiful islands of
the Adriatic over several years at the turn of this
century. The inexperienced sailors have to learn as
they go, often finding themselves battling the
elements in a violently rocking boat. The
Mediterranean winds, from the Bora to the Mistral,
as well as the prospect of simple pleasures –
freshly made fish soup and a cold beer – propel
Barbara and Pavle along. They veer off course, find
themselves on the verge of disaster, but always
somehow find time to write it all down.
The result is an entertaining read for sea lovers or
those or who just want to find out how a pair of
novices rapidly acquire the nautical skills they need
to survive.
Barbara Cirman was born in Ljubljana, the capital city of
Slovenia. She studied at the University of Ljubljana and
became a professor in history and sociology. The Dance of
the Sea and the Wind, first appeared as articles in Slovenian
nautical magazine.
The Dance of the Sea & the Wind
Barbara Cirman

Ples vetra in morja /// The Dance of the Sea and the Wind

Potovati in napisati potopis; že od davnih srednejšolskih let je bila to moja največja želja. A ker nisem nikamor potovala, tudi pisati nisem imela o čem. Leto za letom mi je uspelo napisati le po tri do štiri strani osebnega dnevnika (največ za teden dni).

Začuda pa sem s pisanjem ladijskega dnevnika pričela takoj po Pavletovem nakupu jadrnice jeseni 1998. Iz dneva v dan je rasel in se debelil in kmalu sem morala kupiti novega. Z leti je postal moj dober prijatelj. Ob njem sem se smejala in jokala, vanj sem vlila vse svoje vtise, želje in skrbi.
Brez njega, predvsem pa Pavleta, tudi Plesa vetra in morja ne bi bilo.

Kajti vsi dogodki, opisani v knjigi, temeljijo na zapisih. Zajemajo obdobje zadnjih desetih let, ko sva skoraj vsake poletne počitnice preživela na morju. Vsako poletje sva se odpravila drugam. Tako sva počasi objadrala veliko jadranskih otokov, se ustavila na črnogorski obali, dobro spočila v Boki Kotorski, nasedla ob albanski obali, plula brez ustreznega zemljevida do Krfa in ob italijanski vzhodni obali ter končno na jonskih otokih našla svoj konček raja.

Knjiga, ki kronološko sledi najbolj napetim in zanimivim doživljajem, je primerno berilo za vse, ki imajo radi morje, pa četudi še nikoli niso niti trenutka preživeli na jadrnici. Tudi stare morske mačke bo mogoče pritegnila, saj jim bo lahko prijeten sopotnik ob podobnih poteh, kot sva jih na valovih Jadranskega in Jonskega morja doživela midva.