This is an adventure..

Almmi (pictured) is kahtlemata - without doubt - one of the largest and most sensible ways in which I have passed along money finding its way into my hands, ever. Next to trans-Atlantic plane tickets and my IKEA bed-mattress-down comforter set in Minneapolis, of course. It is freedom in a different form, with different, very permeable boundaries. Mobility conditioned by waves, wind and sun. I undergo daily sensations at various times of being on the waves, with the cells in my body retuned to the rhythm of the tide and me just along for the ride. Whilst translating copious amounts of articles about tobacco smuggling and building permit disputes and the like, dumping coffee down my throat on dry land. I just need to condition myself into being able to recall the feeling at will - sure I could make myself fall asleep anywhere or at least startle passerbys, randomly shouting 'land ho!' and whatever other maritime terminology I can dredge up. This is what a month's salary can land you.

I initially held her in a garage in Pirita next to the same shop from which I bought her. Well, technically she was there wrapped in plastic for two weeks before I got access to her and then immediately rowed her to Miiduranna, where she's all snugged up at a friend's parents' place on the seashore. Right, now to break that sentence down. After purchasing the kayak, I found out that it was located in a warehouse on Peterburi maantee and that it would be transported to Pirita after some weeks. In the meantime, I was able to freely use the other kayaks available there (one slightly older model of my own and one new, crazy-light composite that kept my adrenaline on extra-max to stay balanced). This was all fine and the idea of keeping my own kayak at the garage was suitable for some time, as: A. I had no where else to put it, B. I had no way of transporting it by land, and C. it was still snowing every other weekend. When my kayak finally arrived at the garage, the shop owner took off to China for a couple weeks to tour the factory (yes, I row a vessel designed by neutral Norwegians and crafted in a communist country - the perfect European). This was actually the crux of the slight discomfort in running down to Pirita whenever I wanted to go row - the garage was only accessible on weekdays until six or seven o'clock in the evening; not the most propitious for random bouts and prospective weekends out camping.

As soon as the owner got back and the wind lulled, I went down for the first paddle. Immediately beforehand I had locked down a place to keep it longer-term - an amazing location in a friend's parents' garden about 50 meters from the sea. SCORE. Yeah. Two million points. I planned on doing the maiden paddle, placing Almmi back in the garage and then doing the trip from Pirita to Miiduranna later in the week. Mentioned this to the shop owner as she was going out for a run, and agreed how to leave one door unlocked so I could put the kayak to rest for the eve; the owner would close up later before she left. At first, I planned on a short, half-hour bout. Ha.

Went upriver, ran some small rapids and surfed a bit on tail-waves; then went back and out of the harbor to acquaint Almmi with the sea.. and to reaquaint myself, as I then had little experience, mostly consisting playing around the mouth of the harbor and in rowing a two-person kayak a year ago to the top of Viimsi poolsaar (peninsula).

This is why I usually don't write out stories here.. I'm sure the boredom will last for eight pages more, four cups of tea and then both myself and the reader can somehow shake off drowsiness and at least superficially direct attention to .. right, I'll just keep writing.

So when I headed back to the shop, pulled Almmi out of the water and prepared to stow the goods, found out that it was all fully locked up, as the owner thought I had already come and gone. No response to mobile calls. Standing outside with a 5.2-meter sea vessel. Fantastic! My friend was able to answer her mobile, however, and was not at work (thank you, work schedule of that particular Chinese restaurant) and agreed to meeting up at Miiduranna after I paddled there.. a good cap to the two hours of paddling I had already done that day! Sea conditions were unbelievable, however, as the pictures and deep-seeded memories show.

I almost deleted that story three times in the mix. Is this what happens when my daily English use is primarily in translating mundane articles and watching episodes of 'The O.C.'? (I know, I know - probably should have deleted that as well.. selective coherency and detail: that's my style.)

That which probably should have attained greater attention is the tale of my day-journey from Miiduranna to Kräsuli, Kumbli and Aegna saared (islands) and back - a solid 25 km of paddling in various wind and wave conditions. I actually planned to camp that evening on Aegna, brought along a tent and extra water and everything.. and left my sleeping bag on my balcony in Lasnamäe, because.. that's pure preservative-free logic, fool. The weather was extremely warm during the day, though a storm was slowly approaching by the time I landed and the breeze became cooler. Thus I figured the choice was to strain myself for another couple hours, stay near the shore and hope for a Zeusish chaos not to ensue; or to chill, walk around a bit and probably be wet and cold for most of the night with paddling planned for unsure conditions the next morn. I went with the former. After grilling sausages and having a beer, of course (see - logic).

What more to say - a few 1.8-2 meter swells (yes, really) meant that Almmi is no longer a young kayak virgin and can not be sacrificed to any undersea Baltic volcano deities, I learned that small, sparsely vegetated islands are where avian cannibals reside and one should not do more than come to shore, stamp out cramps from one's leg and then scurry back into a kayak to face the open sea waves pounding in while trying to reach more hospitable spots of land.. the usual weekend.

Most of the moments worth writing about or taking a picture of are exactly those which do not fit into words or replicable images.

My goal is rowing to the shores of Naissaare by the end of summer. Beer and sausage to commemorate the voyage, as always. Possibly even bring along sleeping bag and tent. All I need further are a red cap and a speedo. Maybe a glock and some correspondence stock.

Ho.

Edasi, вперёд..