Back In Time... During our voyage from East to West, while entering the other Dimension... We Cruise at High speeds for our Next Galaxy, Log reading above 16 Hundred GillaWats Heading South over West. The Stars guide us on this journey, as we close in, On, towards our Destination... We Fly fearless towards the Narrow Passage separating Oriental, from new Age, Our Ship Surfing at times, broad reaching with 5 panels Aloft... Making pace into a narrowing tunnel, heading for the leap, soon we will break the speed of light, as we head into the narrowing Galactical channel... Behind the Sun shows itself between the scattered cloud, 1 Night down, 1 to go... Our Forces are good and Strong, our Ship ready for what awaits ahead, we press on... By now salt water runs through our veins... The Force drives us Strong, our Junk Rig like a V8 powers us Ahead. 9% of Camber and lower Aspect Ratio prove a good choice for this Task, this journey is heading down, the laws of physics unite with us, spe...
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Once 2 BOATS Meet at Sea, the RACE is ON!!!
7 meters above sea level... A beautiful summer day, lets cruise 20 Miles North to Sozopol, we decide in a friendly chat with krum, captain of the 34 footer beside us... Time to go, as the quay moves away, I watch our line slipping around it's bollard. Our small outboard drives us astern, as the bitter end races through the water, heading for the wall. I steer to port while Jenia quickly pulls the wet rope aboard. We're clear, motoring ahead towards the middle of the bay. The 34 foot cruiser motors out to sea. At about 150 meters away from the quay, a good pull on the halyard raises our Junk sail, bow pointing to sea, panel after panel canvas goes aloft. A light breeze enters the bay from North East, as morning turns to noon, things will freshen up and gradually turn clockwise to the East... The halyard tightens, a final good yank and "plop" something flies off masthead and lands beside me in the sea. I cleat the halyard and go below, with my binoculars I...
A sleepless night... The force is strong! As a new pen discharges on old paper... It's a darkening planet and a herd marching to its slaughter... The board is set, the players take their places. Some represent the future, others will play for the past... A game of No prisoners, all are strong, yet non are weak, soon, the Titans will clash. The bull will charge! The matador will step to the side as he digs the first sword into the defenders back. The defender lost this battle, but the war has just begun... For the first time in history, Both are strong! Both heavily armed and both have been here before... A big bull, undefeated and strong, takes on wisdom and pride. The future will challenge the past. The scene is set, "ENTER" has been pressed, the snowball heads down hill... Words become actions, each one adding a layer of snow as the ball tumbles down. A white streak runs down the bulls neck, elegantly shifting to mid body, as it heads on to decorate ...
Full steam and compass reading dead north... As He ploughs his way through the thick ice, his bow crushes the surface of the white desert. Astern lays a wet path, ahead solid as a rock... Engines revving @ 380 R.P.M roaring at the elements, fearless, he makes headway into the unknown...... Days get shorter, nights get colder, the silence of death accompanies him on his way, failure is no option. The motion is slow, as his bow climbs, he slows, his screws cavitate, finally the massive weight pulls it under, thrashing the surface. A black cloud of burned diesel fumes escorts him, no way to escape it... As the ice gets thicker, the motion gets slower. 90 tons of diesel should be sufficient... We're not far, this time tomorrow we will reach her, a 60,000 dwt called "Northern Lights" we will take her out of this desert, she longs for the cold water of the northern Atlantic, she is ready and awaits us... "IceBreaker" in this desert is an Ace, he knows it like...
The time is 04:40, A storm is heading south down the Adriatic, it's the 30th of August 2010. At these moments a 20 year old dream is coming true. Heavily reefed and flying east, the wind is powerful approaching 30 knots. The moon sheds a ray of light through the thick cloud above, as they move swiftly to the right, south bound. The night is dark, the sea is strong, I'm on the tiller. We're surfing down short steep Adriatic swell, a land locked wave, very different to the broad shoulder wave, of the Atlantic the summer before... Suddenly Baby Mana races ahead, I turn, a look aft reveals the wall we're surfing down. probably 7, maybe 8 knots I think to my self... I pull hard on the tiller, her barn door stern hung rudder takes her bow off, preventing a broach. The wave passes, she slows to 5, it's all good.... Jenia joins me with 2 cups of hot tea, I'm wet, the wind is cold. A hot beverage is welcome, right hand on the tiller, the left holding the h...