Making Maritime Memories

In Uusikaupunki, Finland.

A bit out of steam.

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A little overwhelmed maybe.

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Photos coming from home from where my stuff used to be. I find myself missing odd things, surprising things. Don’t want to go anywhere much. See anyone.

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Just family.

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Was excited to go on a boat trip though. Could get up from my own funeral service for a fun boat trip!

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The boat is noisy. The underwater world is quiet.

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I can imagine little perches, roaches and Baltic herrings hiding from the afternoon sun below us. They are safe in the lush jungle of gently swaying seaweed that continues all the way to Sweden and beyond.

The pikes are asleep. Or sharpening their killer’s teeth for the night.

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Suddenly, a rude rumbling sound invades the peaceful paradise. It’s a motor boat, a small yellow one, with my son at the wheel. Sorry about that! Next to him sits my dad. He has a permanent tan and could navigate these waters with his eyes closed. He kindly keeps them open this time to for my benefit.

At the bow that’s me with the sore butt. Because a tiny motor boat, well that’s not always such smooth sailing actually!

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Our arrival causes a temporary stir among the rocks and the reeds nearby. Engine off, the splash of the anchor, and silence. The submarine siesta can continue! Sorry, sorry. Sorry very much.

My very best summer memories are definitely from short or longer boat trips here and there. They all have this same silvery green frame of the sea and the islands. It’s a collage of heavy rubber boots, smooth cliffs, wild flowers and life vests. I would love for my kids to make some memories like these, too!

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These were not our boats. We had a small fishingboat kind of a thing and then a small wooden sailing boat with a black mast.

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Although this one has a black mast, it most definitely is not our boat. It is M/S Olga, the old beauty moored in the heart of Uusikaupunki.

Today’s memory will be that of the quickest island adventure ever. Because one of us was feeling a little smart!

And a smart one by the sea rarely ends up with dry trousers, I’m sad to report!

The fish watch the commotion in amazement. Their little eyes follow as someone’s  bottom half comes for a visit then hastily clambers back out of sight, leaving behind lots of waves and some confused seaweed. Frantic movement follows above the waterline.

In seven minutes the anchor is pulled up again. The engine propeller dives back in the water.

Rumble rumble. Rumble rumble.

Gone!

Everyone can sigh out little bubbles of contentment.

Until at sunset, the pikes slowly swim out of the reeds.

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