On the 9th of August, in the city of Rome, both of my brothers & a German cameraman boarded the deck of Black Dolores. My brothers, who have been living in New York for the past 12 year, came directly from my father's memorial service in Kibbutz Einat. Itamar & Yuval did not sail since my father died & much before that.
When our father was around, we almost had no worries. If he was sailing this ship we could have all slept like new born babies, all the way to France. Now, I felt that I have to take the role of eldest of the tribe, to be the one my brothers can put their trust in.
& then of course, faith has decided to test me again. When we eventually left Rome, on our way to Sardinia, the gods of wind were exhaling a bit stronger then accepted. I can't say we were in a storm, but for a first day on board, the wind & the waves were quite a stomach blender. I will not mention any names, but some of our new crew members could barely hold their breakfast in & stress was in the air.
I'll try to be has honest has I can – just before arriving in Rome, the wind & the waves were quite the same & I did not make any effort to hide the fact that I'm not enjoying this ride; But the moment my brothers boarded the ship, I tried to wear my father's shoes, pretend to be a life long sailor & keep a giant smile on my face. It wasn't an easy task at first, but slowly, I started enjoying myself. It was not my new role that gave me pleasure, not at all. It was my new state of mind, bearing my father within me, with his love to the sea. Not referring to the situation has a battle, but more like a ballet – watching Black Dolores dancing beautifully between the waves.
Here are some pictures of the more pleasant momants of that voyage with the brothers:
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