Water
White water from the ferry
I stand at the back rail and watch the wake. It is the only screen I never get tired of.
Erik Strand
The ferry to the island takes forty minutes. Most people sit inside with coffee. I go to the back deck and watch the propellers turn the sea into foam.
It is never the same twice. Blue, white, green, then flat again a hundred metres behind us.
The cold
Even in summer it is windy up there. I keep a hat in my bag for it. A man who sells hot dogs in the kiosk knows me now. He says, the wake man, and hands me a coffee without asking.
