A journalist has arrived in Valencia in a boat…
… THAT HE GOES WITH HIS WIFE AND HIS TWO CHILDREN AROUND THE WORLD
TO TOUCH IN VALENCIA
PETER Dohm, the Danish journalist who, aboard a sloop, Rest More, has just played in Valencia, as an obligatory stopover on his attempt to go around the World, creates a new type of argonaut… The solitary navigator second term passes, and the “family sailor” climbs into the picturesque present… I spoke with Peter, while he was caulking the boat… He is a nice, young, cheerful, cordial man… . . I am a comrade,” he tells me right off the bat, in somewhat difficult French. Journalism is the great illusion of my life and the economic reason for this trip. My adventures, the impressions of each country, in terms of races, customs, arts, sports, etc. All of this will be reflected in the newspapers in my country and in the Netherlands. — And tell me: is it worth the effort? Peter Dohm fits the question, and he replied gravely: -I ask, Man…! you any other profession? -Yeah; although not one as primary. I am a draftsman, an expert in maritime works, meth-Taco— In any of these jobs I could easily earn my living but does the sea, literature, violent emotions, the independence of living suggest me so much? Has it been a long time since the expedition began? time table… In mid-August we left Copenhagen… Our last stage, before arriving in Valencia, was a port of Atalán. which name I don’t remember. From here we go to Alicante, and from Alicante, to Malaga, to reach Gibraltar, where the prow of the Rest More will head out over the Atlantic towards America…
THE DOHM FAMILY, ON BOARD
—Magnificent adventure… What I don’t quite understand is why you have complicated—by complicating yourself—the family in this adventure. “And what was I going to do?” replies the adventurer with great ingenuity. Elsa—Elsa is also my Danish wife, like me—she is my only collaborator; She has great knowledge of sea cokes, and her company was indispensable to me. And as for the kids, she had no one. leave them? I understand the inconvenience that children give away from home, and I risked shipping them. How old are they? —Lars, the eldest, three years old; the girl, Anne, only two. When we embarked, he still needed his mother’s care… How were we going to leave him without them?… There was no other choice but to “complicate” them… Come, Elsa; I’m going to introduce you to a partner. Elsa, petite, nervous, tanned by the sea air, careless in her dress; but she is also happy, like her husband, she greets me effusively: —I am the sailor and the marmiton of the ship… And the spare time I dedicate to the care and education of my children. —You will have them locked up during the navigation. —On the contrary… Lars and Anne spend whole days on deck… —And they didn’t scare them?… —Whatever I do, I’m always watching for them. But once, recently, I neglected myself. We were sailing with a storm, at altitude. of the Balearic Islands Peter and I, on deck, tied to the mast with ropes that allowed us relative freedom of movement, were fighting against the squall, while the children were sleeping, or we thought they were sleeping, because, suddenly, I saw Lars leaning out of the window. hatch door. He wanted to run towards him, but the ropes made my movements difficult, and horrified I saw how a wave rushed him against the cabin. When the deck was clear of water, the child had disappeared. I screamed, desperately calling Peter, who, taking care of the helm, didn’t hear anything; I cursed the expedition, and when I was about to jump into the sea in search of my son, I found him fallen in the doorway of the cabin and with a fit of laughter—he had been amused by my disgust—that would not let him get up. ground. I gave him a spanking!…
“IF THE “REST MORE” GETS…”
—Do you trust in success? —If it depends on our effort, yes. So far so good. The coastal route that we take facilitates the march without doubts and with little danger. The Mediterranean is the safest of seas for our embarkation. Then the really difficult part began. Will the Atlantic respect the life of our ship? That is the unknown… Perhaps one day the news will reach Valencia that we have disappeared, and then you cannot help but dedicate a memory to this navigating family that greeted you with such joy before leaving this port… —No, man, no… Who thinks of that? You will arrive where you propose. Cheer up and go ahead. —Grades… But if the Rest More manages to avoid the dangerous stages of America, the Panama Canal, the abrupt and immense Pacific, the golden islands of Hawaii, New Zealand, the Australian Continent, -the exotic coast of Dutch India, Madagascar, the Cape of Good Hope, the Red Sea and the river frontiers of Africa… Ah! Then Europe, with the blue and trusting waters of it, would give. reality to my illusions and put an end to the adventure of the family.
VICTOR MARTINEZ
