Amsterdam – Gdansk on a yacht. Lessons of humanism

Every time something like this happens in my head after traveling to Europe, which is very difficult to describe in less detail, but I really want it to stay with you longer. And usually enough for about a week or two.

That’s why, as yet fresh, I decided to start my travel notes about the recent yacht voyage Amsterdam-Gdansk not from the usual descriptions and road photos, but with something more abstract. But not less important, as it seems to me.

Travel, as an occasion to ponder. Do not chase after the checkmarks in the list of attractions, and the ability to sneak into the windows of an unfamiliar city. All this does not matter now. Order coffee in a cafe with windows on the floor in the street, whose name is not very important and watch slowly, as life flows here.


Being in Europe, you involuntarily begin to compare. It’s not that the exotic East, where, according to legends, people walk on their heads and surrender to me, it’s not that exaggerated.

People here are exactly the same as we are, but something seems to flash on the periphery of the glance, some barely noticeable point and it is necessary to peer for a very long time and carefully, so that it slowly starts to increase and become more discernible. It’s like in the shadow of a huge moon for us, suddenly notice the tiny Saturn, not yet realizing its true scale, about how huge the space around.

And the easiest way to understand this is in comparison, and this time I had the opportunity.

So, after a short walk through Amsterdam, I came to Iumuiden – a tiny Dutch town on the North Sea, where my future fellow travelers stood in the parking lot. The first thing that appeared to my eyes when I climbed the yacht was her captain with a disheveled head of hair. In his hand, he had a half-empty (or half-full? Then it was not clear yet) misted glass, and next to it was a glass of the Absolute. The clock was 19-30. This picture was repeated with small variations (drinks) afterwards every evening when we were not at sea. But this story is not about the harm of alcohol, not at all. To describe the atmosphere that reigned during our hike on board, it will take only two words: gnashing of teeth. Gnashing of teeth was every time we did something together: landing, sailing, setting and cleaning of sails.



But then I saw enough of them. The fact is that the passage of the canal is a buzz of pure water: no disturbance, no flow, no laying of the course (the shore is always in sight) – you can rightfully relax and gape on both sides. What the Norwegians did. And on a catamaran there is something to be entertained, especially to children. We observed this pattern for a couple of hours. Both rebets in turn raised each other by a winch almost to the very top of the mast, the height of which is so much at a rate of 18 meters. Dad at the helm, my mother somewhere in the bowels of the catamaran. That video, is nowhere more visible.


At us on board it was necessary each time to ask the permission to pass on a nose of a yacht and to make, for example, such frame. Of course, every captain on his ship assigns his own rules and does not argue with them. I did not argue, but looking at the Norwegians tried to understand – why do we so love these heaps of meaningless rules? Actually, for us it’s not a curiosity, is it? We are afraid to look stupid with strangers, especially in a foreign country, we are afraid to ask again and even more to smile if all the same has committed a mistake. And often we take out anger on the closest people. We live like this, as if tomorrow is a war, but today the charges and every mistake are deadly. Without any flexibility with respect to the current situation.