Ferry to Sfintu Gheorghe and the Black Sea – mid-April 2004

Ferry to Sfintu Gheorghe…

There are no roads connecting any of the towns or villages in the Delta area; everything travels by boat or by ferry. But we had wanted to see where the Danube actually empties into the Black Sea. We had followed it from its source in the Black Forest in Germany through 8 countries, and we weren’t about to let a little thing like a vast wetlands stop us from seeing its completion. So we took a ferry from Tulcea to Sfintu Gheorghe, a small village of about 200 inhabitants on the southern arm of the Danube, where the river flows into the Sea. The Sfintu Gheorghe arm carries only 20% of the water of the Danube; it is small, but also the wildest and the least inhabited.

The 120-km. (72 mi.) ride from Tulcea took five hours, making four stops along the way. The ferry was packed; there were Romanians, gypsies, foodstuffs, sofas, beds, refrigerators, bottles of soda, toilet paper. There was even a live pig that was bound up and carried aboard in a net. Stephane said that the squealing pig didn’t look too happy, but I guess you wouldn’t be, either, if you were carried by your ears.

The dark gypsies wore loose, knee-length flowered skirts over top of leggings, and shoes that looked like a cross between slippers and sandals. They slept on each other’s shoulders. The Romanians from Bucharest distinguished themselves by wearing large cell phones on cords around their necks (We heard that some of them like to be seen having cell phones, even though they don’t have enough money to actually make any calls!).

There was a group of half a dozen Hungarian tourists, sitting around a table on the top deck, drinking Unicum and beer, and taking video footage. We called them the Mario Bros. group because one very large man had a strange, round face like Mario. His sidekick had a toxic yellow, curly-cue moustache that was stained fluorescent from a lifetime of cancer sticks. I saw the timer on a video-camara of the Romania couple from Bucharest dressed like Indiana Jones, ready for an exciting outback adventure, even though they were heading straight for the nearest guesthouse. They took over four hours of footage on a five hour trip! All of swampland and trees!

Hey, funny sidenote about the Mario Bros. group: Stephane, along with everyone else in France, thinks that the “Bros.” from Mario Bros. is pronounced like “brosse,” and doesn’t realize it is just a shortcut for “Brothers”. “Brosse” like “brosse a dents” (or “toothbrush!) Haha, I didn’t let him forget that one for a while!

Beachside on the Black Sea Coast…

The scenery on this arm of the river doesn’t change much: swampland, high reeds, trees on small islands. The occassional heron, ibis, or duck. The ferry wasn’t conducive to much bird-watching. There was the occassional village of 100-200 inhabitants, marked by a faded weather-beaten sign above the small ferry-landing. Luggage, food, and people would tumble surprisingly quickly off the boat, and then we would move on again.

Our arrival in Sfintu Gheorghe was marked by a crowding of people and luggage off the boat and towards the village. Relatives awaited their family members. We were given more Easter eggs and cake. They were still being eaten one week after Easter. One couple told us that if we wanted to join them on Sunday, they were going to the cemetery to celebrate with the rest of the village. It is a Romanian custom to celbrate the Sunday after Easter by sitting around the graves of your loved ones and breaking open the eggs and sprinkling the red egg shells on the graves, a picnic to share with your departed and a day of remembrance.

The town itself had a few stores, a townhall, and a row of houses along a sandy road. We headed in the direction of the Sea, but there was no path leading from the tiny village. Only stretches of sand and marshes, and swamp. We had to cross swampland by bike to get to the beach! It took us 2 hours to cross the 4 km (2.5 mi) which brought us to the Sea. We pushed through sand, through mud, and through swamp.

We saw cows and bulls who gazed at us curiously. We saw lots of wild black horses. Even a pony who was just learning to walk. They are so different when they are let free. The area was a landmine of horse and cow crap – watch out with the sandals!

We searched in vain for a dry path to the beach, but eventually resigned ourselves to the fact that we would have to cross muddy streams. Stephane rolled up his pants legs and crossed without hesitation, while I worried about the cold nighttime water. So he came back, took my bike, then returned once again for me, to carry me across on his back. My hero!

We reached the beach just in time to enjoy the orange sunset, then we put up the tent and fell asleep to the sound of the waves breaking on the shoreline.

We awoke to see the sunrise over the sea the next morning, and upon exiting the tent found ourselves in the company of a couple of small birds and a bull who munched contentedly on some tufts of grass in the dunes a few yards away. Aside from that, we found ourselves alone all day on the isolated beach except for one solitary walker and one man on horseback who disappeared quickly after we saw him. We walked along the sehll beach and collected seashells.

We camped just at the spot where the river empties into the sea. It wasn’t as impressive as I had thought it would be. I had thought it would be big and mighty – I hadn’t taken into account the fact that only 20% of the waters of the Danube flow through this arm to Sfintu Gheorghe. Another 60% follows the northern arm along the Ukranian border and anoterh 20% follows the central arm towards Sulina, the largest town in the delta, with 5500 inhabitants.

It was very windy and cold on the beach, but we enjoyed being there and listening to the sound of the waves. It was very soothing.

The ferry back to Tulcea left at 6:00 the next morning. I knew that we would have to wake before 4:00 AM if we wanted to get there in time, but it didn’t actually occur to me until then that it would still be pitch black. We packed up the tent in the dark and then headed back to town, over the swamps and the sand, with just our front lights to guide us. We didn’t have the luxury this time to choose the best path; we rode as quickly as possible, along and through the muddy streams. I was proud of myself that I made it the whole way without falling or getting wet. It wasn’t easy to go without putting your feet down. The sky was just starting to glow a warm red when we reached the ferry at five minutes to 6:00.

As the ferry pulled away from the dock, we saw the sunrise over the river, reflecting its early morning rays. It was quite beautiful. There were less people on the way back; the ferry seemed almost empty. But the Hungarian Mario Bros. groups was there, in the same spot, fluorescent yellow moustache and all.