Hello!
I continue my maritime story, and, as I briefly mentioned in the previous post, astride our ship we entered the Copenhagen.
Well, I can't say straightway entered, we ran aground for the beginning.
How so?
Well, we chose the marina, which was closer to us on the course and easier to approach (haha), but it was shallower than we expected.
And because this grounding was our first, the situation has puzzled us, but not for long - using metal poles borrowed in Helsinki, we quickly took off the muddy pulp and leaving behind a cloudy brown track, came to Copenhagen.
A selection of the marina, I must say, nevertheless was successful - as it turned out, we settled in near the Christiania.
Who does not know, the Freetown Christiania - is a former barracks of King Christian, unofficial "state within a state", located in the district of Christianshavn Station.
The city is formed in the '70s, when the group of hippies illegally squated an abandoned buildings and announced its establishment in the anarchist newspaper.
Since then, it is collectively managed by the residents, which is now around 1000, and declares each individual responsible for the welfare of the whole community.
Christiania even issued its own laws, such as a ban on cars, hard drugs and firearms.
Of course, we went there as it was possible to reach on foot, and after wandering a bit on its colorful streets came to the main of them - Pusher Street.
This is a market street, and it's selling mainly weed and hash in various amounts and forms.
If you have already imagined such utter street ornamented with flowers and peace signs, where stoned hippies smugly touting their wares, I can tell that this is no longer the case.
In front of us here and there were flashing a three stripes of a sports pants, shaved skulls and gloomy faces of dealers of all grades.
Hippies themselves got old, settled in their small shells and turned into a sort of bourgeois, who don't want new faces in their community and fastidiously looks at tourists munching a vegan burgers in their cafe.
The effect of inflated expectations hit us with full force - it wasn't looking like a free town we wanted to see and residents we've sought to meet at all.
Somehow they just waved their hand to us, and so we to them too, as well as government representatives.
Speaking of the last ones - one fine grayish Danish morning they suddenly decided to visit us.
They were a puffy royal officer, his assistant and a dog.
It was about 8 am when they started to bang in our hull with their state-owned cams, and we were in the soft depths of the sleeping bags, so the meeting somehow has not worked out from the beginning.
While that was an unpleasant surprise, we allowed them to came aboard, which is not so easy with our boat design.
Soon the cops are also realized that, and if the young assistant has got off relatively easy, his burly senior friend got into an awkward position.
At first he was to transfer to board the dog, a black fidgety labrador, and when it was already practically there, our boat has pulled away slightly, and frightened dog almost fell down into the sea, but was cathed up.
And then, when mister officer already had one foot on board, he jumped up, and the holster was caught by lifelines, and his heavy body inexorably pulled itself down, but then again it was catched up, so the great shame did not happen!
At the same time, up to the moment when the officer was trying to squeeze his thick flanks into our entrance hatch, our crew came to the combat readiness and was trying to demolish the evidences of a night moonshine-cooking, namely hasty flushing the water, hiding the drink, and camouflage a copper cauldron with blankets.
And although the smell was suspicious, it did not cause any problems, but our documents does.
The fact that some of our visas have already expired, and theoretically we shouldn't have been in Europe, although practically it turned out differently.
Just want to explain that it was not a spontaneous decision, we knew how it can go, but also we know that in maritime law there are so-called right of innocent passage, and therefore we decided to put the desperate experiment of its use on ourselfs.
This law is allows for a vessel to pass through the territorial waters of another state, subject to certain restrictions. The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea defines innocent passage as this:
Passage is innocent so long as it is not prejudicial to the peace, good order or security of the coastal State. Such passage shall take place in conformity with this Convention and with other rules of international law.
Now all of it should be lucidly explained to the authorities of all different sorts, getting on our way.
Or maybe we're on their :)
The cops were boiling over and knitting their faces, staring at our visas, calling their seniors and asking for instructions.
We were told to get out of here, though it is desirable to do it as quickly as possible, and we started to fuss throughout the boat in an attempt to quickly get it ready.
Moreover, according to the wise experience of representative government, we had to go through the harsh Skagerrak strait, between Denmark and Norway, although at this time of the year it is already possible to see an icy crust on the deck.
Here our naval mechanic could not take it anymore, and asked us to inform the police in English that he wants to go home, and if they can, please take him to the airport and help to buy a ticket to motherland.
For us it was the logical conclusion of his tenure on the board, as though he's a handy, but simple Russian peasant, and our live experiment was too much for him, he began to act up, and we parted in such a way.
But we were honestly continuing to prepare to leave the kingdom of Denmark!
And before leaving, we always replenish stocks of fresh water, that decided to do so this time, as by marine law we always have the right to.
And the guys ran for the hose, we're connected it all, turn on the water and began to fill.
It took about 10 seconds to come to understanding that something is going wrong.
It was the fact that the hose is inserted in the wrong neck and the water is flowing into our big diesel tank!
Rubber hose snake was caught by the throat and thrown out, which, however did not save us from the consequences.
And the consequences were expressed in a good hundred liters of water, mixed with half a ton of diesel, huh.
The police did not even believed that we did it accidentally, although they woke us up at 8 am, but they were nothing more to do and had gone together arm in arm with our mechanic.
Then it all turnes in large-scale enterprise with the deconstruction of the floor and tank, which also turned out to be divided into 4 sections.
We were buried in the slimy ship guts, hunging in all sorts of awkward positions, scooping diesel and water, and frantically filtering them using all possible containers which falls in our feverish hands.
Dilated pupils shone, throat was sore, and the brain was confused, but somehow we did it, and it was the time to get out.
Before that, we, of course, hanged out in the city for a little, picked up two more members of our crew, and, quite pleased with ourselves, went in the sea.
Not in the Skagerrak, of course, but to the south, the German Kiel Canal, the internal waters we've been already banned to attend, where the first our locking was waiting for us, and so is rumored to be strict German guards.
So I'll tell you how it was in the next episode,
Stay on wave,
Bye!
Previous parts:
1 See you at sea: beginning of the story
2 See you at sea: story about big repair and winter hibernation in Tallinn
3 See you at sea: mooring in Helsinki, custom-friendship and God's help
4 See you at sea: ending of the season, or the beginning of autumn in the Baltic Sea.
