Small SailorMatjaž Chvatal
From the early childhood, I was crazy about boats. I was boating in Bohinj Lake in my first boat, at the first independent voyage. I was a real sailor.
The boat was a good meter long inflatable canoe of dark blue color. I was very proud to sit in it and to row, a little to the left, a little to the right, one turn in one side and two to another. Everything went smoothly, I just could not row straight forward.
Then the canoe tipped over. I almost drowned for the first time. A grandfather pulled me out of a very soft vortex. He was overseeing me from a proper wooden Bohinj boat throughout the entirety of my voyage. It seemed big, like an admiral ship. The grandfather has never been so funny before. The water leaked from him, since he jumped to rescue in pants and in a shirt and with a watch still on his wrist. He had no time to remove socks, but he took off his shoes. I sat there on the white beach of Bohinj, cried and laughed at my grandfather. I was puking, because it seemed I drank half of the lake.
Not much time passed and I wanted to go back to the canoe, but I was no longer authorized for independent navigation. The next morning I got it. But my captain took care of me with a security measure, I had to have inflatable ring put on me around the waist. Unfortunately, it was so big that I could not paddle. That’s why I spent my time only on Grandpa’s wooden boat the rest of those vacations. I was already a real sailor, with a cap and rowing machine, who rowed where I ordered. Even if I remembered the true TransBohinj (Ukanc – St. John – Ukanc), he did not mind.