Twenty One Days on the Danube | A Journey of Endurance and Grace
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On Our Way to Tulcea, Metal Monsters, the Eclipse and Blown Off Course
There are hard days ahead as we make our way to Tulcea, a larger city and port on the Danube. The wind is less cooperative than we would like so once again have our oars in the water. The solar eclipse plays in and out of my awareness, of course we won’t see it though the movements of our sun has been the guiding light of our journey tuned as we were to the emanations.
My sight goes inward for awhile as rowing has become a constant beat it is in these moments I sense a split up ahead, both metaphor and real. I attempt to capture these feelings in black and white, more poignant and stark this vision.
Solar eclipse day, the split in the river is made.
Metal monsters line the shore.
Kilometers and kilometers of these metal giants are passed as we skirt the border with the Ukraine. We are stopped and our passports documented now to keep track of our movements. We slide into the Ukraine tracking the current in the middle of the Danube, it isn’t wise to set ashore there, though we would have liked to just to be able to say we had.
Oil tankers, old iron barges, and some passengers ships plow these waters.
Most of the ships carry petroleum or liquid propane. The old flat bottomed iron barges too are fitted with pipes though some are mounded with iron scrap or the dredged up silt that makes new land this far to where the Danube empties into the sea. We maintained a hyper alert state as to what might approach us from the rear for we would hear the hum of diesel motors in the distance.
A split was made during the industrial revolution and what we observed over and over were the rusting and abandoned iron behemoths of ships, barges, warehouses and gigantic cranes. The refrain in my mind was that all this would soon be seen as archaic created as they were by human stupidity that these tossed off metal machines from our past represent.
Some old wooden boats on shore, a contrasting reminder of the still preserved sane way of life butted up against a civilization of metal monsters. We have visited many small villages these past days where life plays out just as it does in every rural setting that remains relatively untouched by the upward mobile modern world.
Wooden boats at the split.
Coming Ashore in Tulcea
Tulcea is a landmark for us as we are within a days reach of the Delta now. We made 45 km with the help of the wind, a welcome respite from hard paddling and making 20 km at best. To celebrate we decide to buy a meal, have a few beers and purchase any remaining supplies we might need.
As we tie our kayak to the dock a small kayak shaped like a canoe pulls up next to us and we meet Willem from Holland, a friendly kayaker he introduces himself with his deep bronze skin and the crinkles around his eyes that come from staring into the sun. The three of us are instant friends as we climb the cement embankment to the wide boardwalk that lines the port of Tulcea, the first mission is beer as the two guys discover their common ground. Well the feminine won without trying as she poked her head into a shop and purchased some dark chocolate which was saved for later.
We enjoy the extended time in the restaurant swapping tales while we had a meal of fresh fish, french fries smothered in fresh cheese and the traditional Romania tomato cucumber salad. Every one grows tomatoes in their front and back yards, there simply is no way to compare the flavor of a real tomato to what is passed off for food in the corporate run markets.
Willem is enchanted with Romania and her people, he has been treated with warm hospitality and kindness from Serbia on through Bulgaria, he tells us Romanians are at the top of the list for their open graciousness. We share in the grace of the simple life, in the way we are greeted so abundantly by Source each day. We speak of the hardships too, the way you continually meet yourself and find you can out reach your limits.
We decide to follow Willem on the left bank of the river as there is a group of many kayaks coming in from Germany in the next few days so he wants to check out their camp to possibly connect with them. He is welcome company and the idea of sharing our fire and food with him was bright in our minds.
It didn’t turn out that way as the unexpected happen in a few chaotic moments. We had pulled out into the Danube crossing from the right bank to the left on a long wide but sharp curve in the river. It was late afternoon and tour boat after tour boat were speeding to harbor, creating large rolling waves in their wakes. Interspersed were larger older iron boats plowing to harbor. As we took the curve the wind caught our sail in a sudden gust and we were speeding at a sharp list when the line holding the rudder suddenly snapped. Without the rudder we were careening starboard across the path of the incoming boats. Our only choice was to paddle with the flow, it was then that an older iron boat kept changing course ahead of us as we continued our course to cross to the shore not far ahead when we quickly found ourselves about to cross his bow and he wasn’t slowing down. Cristian yelling paddle and me digging in my paddle to stop us… neither of us are trained on the water but all my nautical memory came full forward, you never cross the bow of an incoming boat!
We made it to shore, myself shaken and raging. For the first time I lost it as I realized just how scary it can go wrong when you don’t pay attention to your gear and lack of experience combine to create a possibility that could have been disastrous. Dear Cristian listened to me wail until I calmed down, we so easily forgive each other for our moments of complaint and grumbling though this time I went further needing to transmute what was really fear into tears and finally resting in gratitude that we were safe and now more experienced.
Willem is from Holland, his trip started in April as he made his way from Germany to Romania.
We were to meet him one more time.
Entry to the Delta
What happens on a journey of this nature which is a reflection of our lives is the realization that the moments of tiredness which beg you to call defeat or the moments of fear that want to tear you apart seamlessly collide with the astounding beauty and gifts of nature. Life isn’t chunked up in blocks of artificial separation as we were flowing as one.
“Every particular in nature, a leaf, a drop, a crystal, a moment of time is related to the whole, and partakes of the perfection of the whole.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson
The approach at the end of a long day.
We spent a day of good fortune with a gentle wind and smooth water after our scare the day before. We had some choices to make now for the Danube Delta spreads out over many hundreds of kilometers. We had thought to go South however Cristian wants to visit Sulina, a historical port city on the edge of the Black Sea that even in this day and age has no highways leading to it so we choose that course. During the day I am thinking of writing Willem to let him know we are okay but the signal on my phone weak that I can’t connect to my mail service. I send him messages on the wind and across the water.
Land fall on a perfect shore.
We stopped on this sandy beach to bathe in the clear water where no boats churned by, I hadn’t bathed in a few days other than to wash my face so the plunge was revitalizing and most welcome. We were entering the Delta now as flocks of birds lifted from the trees sensing our arrival … A deep inner sigh is released as all tension float away in the water’s caress and the song of birds.
A much welcomed bath in deep water.
Shadows playing on water.
Drying my hair in the warm afternoon sun.
We are refreshed now and stay a bit longer on this shore, we won’t camp here tonight sensing that further into the canal we will find a special place. Setting as many camps as we have the best places are found on higher ground with trees and accessible firewood. A few night have been spent close to the waters edge where the ground is moist, we sleep well on sand but must wait through the morning for the sun to dry our gear. And the trees are so protecting and communicative … we are about to meet an older sacred one.
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