I am a sailor by heart – but will I ever set sail?
It is one of those mornings on Ikaria. An early morning, sunshine, blue sky and I am on my way to the marina in Agios Kirikos. I am longing for some quiet moments – far away from the busy platia, cars and motorbikes. Just the sea, the boats, a stray cat, a fresh coffee, a koulouri and me. Perfect!
(c) Birgit Urban
In the marina I have a favourite spot: the little wall, that is separating the public place from the so-called “Katafygi” – the place where the harbour master and the office of the sailing club are located. This little wall is perfect to arrange my breakfast. Being there is like standing at a bar, watching the people around you.
And this is exactly what I love doing: observing what is happening here. In a certain sense this place has become to me the synonym for so many things which perhaps only I can see here: the entrance door to the entire world, the connection with the cultural heritage of the Ikarian society:– seafarers, adventures, safety, cooperation, easy life, big dreams.
(c) Birgit Urban; ‘Aegean Regatta’ 2022
Certainly, others will see a completely different story there: the unfinished marina, equipment that’s already broken, not enough place for big boats. Let them. For me, it is a place where I find shelter. A place where I can just rest for a while, where I can be an observer of a different world – a world that is opening to me in slow motion and I am not sure if I will ever understand it completely.
I love to follow the life in the marina during the different seasons of the year: its busy times in summer, when people from all over the world are entering this little place to pay a quick visit to the “longevity island” on their booked sailing trip.
I love to watch the big waves crashing over the walls during the storms in autumn and I am an addict to the winter silence of this place, when only some stray cats are crossing and a handful of boats are pressed against the quay walls. Over the years I have encountered a number of people who like to spend the winter in this place, snuggled up in their rocking home. I love listening to their stories. It feels like reading a book about seafarers who travel the seas, who drop anchor in various ports and recount their adventures. People come from different corners of the world, and they have a thousand reasons why they choose to drop anchor in this marina of all places. Talking to them, I learn a lot about life, the love for the sea, hardship, aloneness, environment, unexpected friendship and support.
(c) Birgit Urban
But the discussions always have their turning point when people are addressing the question to me: “And what about you? What about your boat? Where do you go sailing?” Well, for the first moment, there is silence, because I’am always lost for words. How to explain that I am not a sailor? That I don’t have a sailing licence and that sometimes even climbing onto a sailing boat stresses me out?
Well, it is a long story, with many different chapters and to make a long story short: in general, I am responding briefly, knowing very well that this may bring our conversation to a swift end.
How to explain my lifetime sailing story in a nutshell? It is complicated, so I am always answering: “Well, I love sailing, but I never made it to the sailing licence. You find me more in the back-office jobs related to sailing.” And this is it.
Indeed, my sailing life started at the age of 12 years. So I have a history. My parents had just bought a little holiday flat on the shore of a small lake where you could also sail. Against this backdrop it was almost a matter of course that my parents obtained a sailing licence and bought a small sailing boat.
Sorpe Lake (c) Sorpesee.com
At that time, I was a shy teenager, a bit clumsy and the different knots, different commandos, the sudden rush when docking the boat frightened me more than it sparked my interest in sailing. At that time, sailing lessons for youngsters were not that popular in that region and somehow I did not get into it. And so I spent years being a fellow sailor, mostly quietly sitting somewhere on that family sailing boat with my nose in a book or enjoying the tranquillity of the lake. It was ok for me and I left the command and passion for sailing to my parents. My quiet passion for sailing was based more on the the landscape and the water.
© Maik Wiesegart – freiwerk® – Agentur für Digitalmarketing
Coming of age, I kept that kind of love for sailing. I love the sea and when travelling to different countries, harbours, marinas and sailing boats always attracted me – but just for the pleasure of watching and the curiosity about the people being around.
Years passed, I grew up, got married, had 2 children and moved into a house near Potsdam/Berlin, Germany, a beautiful region surrounded by many lakes. It was in this environment that my husband discovered his love for sailing. He dived into this new world with passion and soon after, he became the owner of an old wooden sailing boat, which became a game changer for our life in the countryside. This boat became our second home during the weekends – and again, I became a good fellow sailor, not really eager to steer myself and to master the manoeuvres. To this day, I am still not sure why I didn’t seize the opportunity. Perhaps my husband’s passion for sailing was enough for all of us, or maybe I was too busy getting the kids into the right positions on the boat. Don’t misunderstand me: I loved to be on that boat. I liked the scenery, our little time out from work and busy family life. Here we went with the flow, picnics on the boat, happy husband, happy kids – what more could you ask for? Already at that time I was more “back-office”. I was the one who ordered the books about sailing stories and adventures, which I then gave to my husband to read. Me, too, I liked the stories, as they were all about freedom, new beginnings and adventure.
Lake Templin (c) Ralf Roletschek
And as I am interested in history, I was also a bit triggered by the fact that our boat was anchored at a historic site, this means: the very same place where Albert Einstein had his sailing boat, before he emigrated to the United States. In that village – Caputh – he had a summer house, which was donated to him by the city of Berlin for his 50th birthday and where he lived from 1929 to 1932. He loved the place, especially sailing on Lake Templin, which is only a few minutes away from his house. He loved his wooden sailing boat “Tümmler”, which was given to him by friends also for his 50th birthday.
And now it was the four of us who were sailing at this place … somehow enjoying the same simple things as the famous scientist.
Physicist Albert Einstein and his wife Elsa next to their boat at Lake Wannsee in Berlin , – around 1929 (Photo by Atelier Jacobi / ullstein bild via Getty Images)
And then I took another turn in life. I got divorced and moved with my kids to Brussels – not really a city next to the sea. But the kids had already caught the sailing bug. They spent all their summer holidays with their father on sailing boats, getting to know to different European coasts, sending me postcards and pics from beautiful destinations. My daughter stepped into her father’s shoes, got the sailing licence and inherited the sailing boat of her grandparents, which she happily sailed on the lakes around Berlin.
And me? Still on land, without a sailing licence and sailing miles and still in “back-office-mode”, meaning: buying books about seafearers for the kids, paying sailing lessons and trips. But at the same time, I had to steer my personal life through many storms and I became a good captain, not losing sight of the goal.
And then I got stranded on Ikaria and I found the marina. I came by land, not through the sea gate.
(c) Birgit Urban
But perhaps I may dare to say that it felt to me as if I too – like a sailing boat – could find peace and relaxation here for a moment, before I must set sail again and face the storms of life.
Over the years, I got to know to different Ikarian sailors, I like listening to their stories. And I got acquainted with the people who are running the sailing club – the Nautical Club of Ikaria (N.O.I.). Since the very beginning I love their effort to bring the Ikarian kids to the sea.
(c) Birgit Urban
It is pure joy for me to see the little ones, climbing on the boats, trying the manoeuvres, not giving up. Watching them, a lot of memories about my own “sailing history” come back up – and sometimes I envy the chances they are given here on Ikaria. From an early age they are able to learn to master the rough seas around the island, and it looks easy for them. Watching them, I am getting tempted to sign up for sailing lessons, too.
So far, I have not done it, but perhaps the moment will come – you never know when the right time for a decision will come.
(c) Birgit Urban
In the meantime I am – again – comfortable in the “back-office-seat”: supporting the sailing club a bit, enjoying my coffee in the marina, watching the sea …. until it is time for me to “set sail again” to ride the storms of a big city life.
(c) Birgit Urban
(@ Birgit_Urban, text and pictures)