British Airways

British Airlines

coach, walked deep savoring the fresh breeze in me and listened to the sound of the bow wave, the moans of the tree-thick poles and singing of the wind in the rigging. I simply madness thought madness! I had the impression, as no day would be passed since the adventures of Sindbad the sailor, as the stories from the Arabian nights were still alive. Occasion it was especially the tag crew of different stripes: muscular figures, usually lively and fun, wearing the loin cloths, shorts and turbans and put myself in that infamous time whose swashbuckling look, as the Trapeze-like dhow sailing in the Indian Ocean was still a sign of terror because it was used by pirates and slave traders.

You must fear pirates even today in the African-Arab waters. Often, they are equipped with advanced weapons and hijack large container ships with preference to the ship owners to reveal high ransoms. We, however, had to do much more with the rigours of nature on the fourth day of sailing. A cloud front moved closer, and the wind attracted swept soon with gale force across the sea.
the air was a tremendous ROAR and howl. The crests were higher and the valleys deeper. In floodwaters whipped up rose and fell the dhow into white spray. It was, as someone would lift the ship and fall back on the water.

Incessantly, heavy gusts attacked the military glider with violent shocks, which put the ailing dhow threatening far to the side. High schwappende waves breaking over lakes with grellweißen Schaumkämmen shot through the scuppers, überspülten the ship and soaked us as well as the torrential downpours. The crew pulled on ropes and linen, rope, and peppers. All the men were in motion and shouted in her work singing the storm in their direction. It was an exciting, but also frightening feeling, so I secured myself with a leash, not to go overboard. I went through the full extent of the hardships that the Arab sailors on their wooden dhows from ancient times have to go through in your own body.

The night stamped and rolled the big wooden ship with full engine power through the agitated, fearsome sea. No easy ride rather impulsive heart beat and chasing adrenaline. I experienced something that can not be described completely because the sea is an element of mystery. An element that people find the border area, where uncompromising clash outside world and inner world.

Hour by hour billowed sea, the storm roared. Only in light and daylight, that drove the night ended the wild dance. The fierce wind Furies petered off to an occasional whisper, and abated boisterous rolling of the waves. Behind us, the low-hanging clouds were still black, grey about us - and far ahead, I saw pale clump clouds with first spots. There, the sea stretched to the horizon. I couldn't believe that we had put in a bad weather more than fifteen hours. All on board were dead tired and needed a portion of sleep.

Azure days with long and friendly swells followed, while the Flash sunlight conjured up bright reflections on the sea and the eye projected occasionally different figures in the arbitrary patterns of waves and light. Often I saw the waves, which umspielten the hull of the dhow, and I realized: water is the element of conversion, which shows itself in a great variety of shapes: there's fluted sea corridors, spray light waves trains, tangy flurry, foaming carpet, kabbelige swell, schnaufende waves herds, endless Gewoge - and much more. Also the colour of the water is