28. Wind
Off Löyhä island, Oulu
14 June 1984
Jussi felt himself to be a pretty nimble nine year old boy when he was sitting in the pulpit in front of the yacht Maria. The speed of the yacht was some 5 knots with the waves barely visible. Wind was probably at 4-5 meters per second. His father had bought this boat, five year old Murena half-tonner of some 30 feet, last autumn together with his colleague, Esko. They had been planning for a month long holiday cruise to Åland isles. He remembered how his father and Esko had drawn large scale nautical charts to their dining room table in one of the weekend parties. In Esko's family there was a girl, Maria, who felt practically like his sister, sweet girl with long dark hair and witticisms sharp like a knife.
Esko and his family, including Maria had went off to Stockholm to meet relatives during last Christmas and had never returned. His father had been mobilized after Christmas and was one of the first to receive patients from Taivalkoski struck by a nuclear missile.
This summer everything was similar to previous one but everything was different as well. The late spring classes in Nuottasaari Elementary School had been filled with planting potatoes and other vegetables in various patches of fields nearby. There had been talk about starting the school early this year so the kids could pick berries and mushrooms. Hopefully not, nuclear war or not the long two and a half months summer leave was sacred for kids.
Some minor details in this trip were different as well. Instead of starting the engine for getting out of the Oulu Yacht Club harbour dad had rowed the boat between two piers and hoisted the sails there, a manouver considered just for show last summer. Why bother when Volvo diesel would power the boat through the narrow channel into open seas past Vihreäsaari? Now, the diesel oil was a premium product and every drop was to be spared.
Like his father had promised, he was now responsible for trimming the main sail. White dacron was forming a beautiful wing shape after the boat was gybed for a new direction. Telltale was evenly fluttering from right to left just as it should and Jussi had ran for the pulpit. Sitting in the pulpit was his favourite spot. The new boat was an unbelievable improvement from the old wooden Folkboat they had had last summer. Proper marine toilet, gas oven, large forepeak... He remembered when Dad told that keeping firm by standing rigging and peeing over the board was Gentlemen's toilet in a yacht. For ladies, there was a red Plasto bucket. Girls, so delicate and unable to do anything.
Except Mom. Mom was as organized as always. This time she had brought a large amount of jars with her for canning. Last summer they had eaten whatever fish he and little sister had managed to catch. This time they had loaned nets and fish traps from Granddad.
Soon they would get to Röyttä island where the Yacht Club had a cottage. As usual this was an island full of adventures. Well, the horse-flies would bit hard but that was to be expected. There were birch forests, frogs, small fish, other kids.. Whatever a boy of his age desired, just like it had been during last summer and undoubtely would be the next summer.
Even if Röyttä was an island of many happy memories his dad looked sad like so for so many days during this spring. Mom had told it was because of what he had seen in Taivalkoski and also because they had been many of the places which had been destroyed.
Dad was not the only one. Last time he had went over to his friend Mikko, Mikko's father was just sitting by the kitchen table, drinking Koskenkorva spirit and looking out of the window even though it was Tuesday morning, a workday. This was not the first time he had seen Mikko's father acting rather odd. He had also listened Mom and Dad whispering about some of their friends. All this seemed to be harder to adults than children. Jussi could not understand it. Sure, everything was horrible now in large parts of the world but not here! Not in Finland!
But Mikko's dad was not his dad. Jussi would make sure he would be a good boy dad would be proud of. Perhaps by that Dad would not be so sad.
Off Löyhä island, Oulu
14 June 1984
Jussi felt himself to be a pretty nimble nine year old boy when he was sitting in the pulpit in front of the yacht Maria. The speed of the yacht was some 5 knots with the waves barely visible. Wind was probably at 4-5 meters per second. His father had bought this boat, five year old Murena half-tonner of some 30 feet, last autumn together with his colleague, Esko. They had been planning for a month long holiday cruise to Åland isles. He remembered how his father and Esko had drawn large scale nautical charts to their dining room table in one of the weekend parties. In Esko's family there was a girl, Maria, who felt practically like his sister, sweet girl with long dark hair and witticisms sharp like a knife.
Esko and his family, including Maria had went off to Stockholm to meet relatives during last Christmas and had never returned. His father had been mobilized after Christmas and was one of the first to receive patients from Taivalkoski struck by a nuclear missile.
This summer everything was similar to previous one but everything was different as well. The late spring classes in Nuottasaari Elementary School had been filled with planting potatoes and other vegetables in various patches of fields nearby. There had been talk about starting the school early this year so the kids could pick berries and mushrooms. Hopefully not, nuclear war or not the long two and a half months summer leave was sacred for kids.
Some minor details in this trip were different as well. Instead of starting the engine for getting out of the Oulu Yacht Club harbour dad had rowed the boat between two piers and hoisted the sails there, a manouver considered just for show last summer. Why bother when Volvo diesel would power the boat through the narrow channel into open seas past Vihreäsaari? Now, the diesel oil was a premium product and every drop was to be spared.
Like his father had promised, he was now responsible for trimming the main sail. White dacron was forming a beautiful wing shape after the boat was gybed for a new direction. Telltale was evenly fluttering from right to left just as it should and Jussi had ran for the pulpit. Sitting in the pulpit was his favourite spot. The new boat was an unbelievable improvement from the old wooden Folkboat they had had last summer. Proper marine toilet, gas oven, large forepeak... He remembered when Dad told that keeping firm by standing rigging and peeing over the board was Gentlemen's toilet in a yacht. For ladies, there was a red Plasto bucket. Girls, so delicate and unable to do anything.
Except Mom. Mom was as organized as always. This time she had brought a large amount of jars with her for canning. Last summer they had eaten whatever fish he and little sister had managed to catch. This time they had loaned nets and fish traps from Granddad.
Soon they would get to Röyttä island where the Yacht Club had a cottage. As usual this was an island full of adventures. Well, the horse-flies would bit hard but that was to be expected. There were birch forests, frogs, small fish, other kids.. Whatever a boy of his age desired, just like it had been during last summer and undoubtely would be the next summer.
Even if Röyttä was an island of many happy memories his dad looked sad like so for so many days during this spring. Mom had told it was because of what he had seen in Taivalkoski and also because they had been many of the places which had been destroyed.
Dad was not the only one. Last time he had went over to his friend Mikko, Mikko's father was just sitting by the kitchen table, drinking Koskenkorva spirit and looking out of the window even though it was Tuesday morning, a workday. This was not the first time he had seen Mikko's father acting rather odd. He had also listened Mom and Dad whispering about some of their friends. All this seemed to be harder to adults than children. Jussi could not understand it. Sure, everything was horrible now in large parts of the world but not here! Not in Finland!
But Mikko's dad was not his dad. Jussi would make sure he would be a good boy dad would be proud of. Perhaps by that Dad would not be so sad.
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