This post is also available in: polski (Polish)
At 6 a.m. I was awoke by the roar of the wind. And although the curtains danced to the rhythm of this ferment, I went out as usual to run along the river.
The wind was ruffling my hair. Above the path, clouds holded the rain, which was about to spill on Friday. I immediately remembered my sailing. The life once again admitted that I like wind. The wind, which inflates sails and overturns my survival from time to time.
When the white sheets of our sails a wind carry away,
blues, sadness and regrets
let’s throw overboard here.
Many years ago I was sailing in Masuria in Poland with a few enthusiasts. I found them by e-mail. When I was looking for someone for sailing trip, my friend contacted me with his friend, who was collecting the team for a boat. I met everyone at the port on the day, when we were starting our adventure.
It turned out that despite the fact that we didn’t know each other before, we have created a good team of people, who loves water and wind.
One day the wind began to blow with such force and the little boy who was with us kneeled down smoothly on the boat desk to pray. However, after 10 minutes, he cought the sailing bug. The boat was swaying mercilessly, and we had to sharpen our hearing and eyesight on our captain’s commands, the gybe almost made me a bump, but it was fantastic speed.
I think the windy climate of Ireland is for me, although when the storms sometimes are for months and I complain of it. There is something in this harsh climate that when it disappear, you will miss dangerous rocks of Ireland again.
Hey, let’s go on a cruise
to the ports of our dreams.
The yacht is ready,
so come on, Sailors.
Such a short post spontaneously written with a revived hope for sailing through everyday life, and one day again on a boat. Hey!
In the text some fragments of sea shanties. / W tekście fragmenty szant: “Staruszek jacht”, “Życie to bajka”.
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