Counselor!, shouts grandpa. Berat, please come to the cabin now. The food is ready! No grandpa, I see land. Yes, really grandpa, there it is. Finland! Berat’s grandpa climbs the narrow wooden ladder until he reaches the deck. Pass me the binoculars, he says. No, Berat, there is no land, I only see water!, he says. Grandpa turns his head very slowly from right to left. But grandpa, you have to look closely. Just look straight ahead. Grandpa looks straight ahead. Then he takes the binoculars from his eyes, hands them back to Berat and shakes his head. No, my boy, I’m sorry, but Finland is really not in sight yet. Come now, your fish will get cold otherwise.
Berat puts the binoculars aside. He can’t believe that Grandpa didn’t see anything. It was so clear. Right before his eyes. Almost within reach. And Berat really wants to go to Finland. There is an adventure park in Finland and his mom promised to take him there as soon as they arrived. Finland!, thinks Berat and bites his lips.
Berat’s mom works for television. She works sometimes here and sometimes there. Berat is then usually on the road with his grandpa. Sometimes, when the countries where Berat’s mom works are by the sea, Berat goes out with his grandpa. They visit Berat’s mom and eat a lot of things that are available in that country. Television pays for that, his mom then says and laughs, and Berat is allowed to order whatever he wants.
Now he doesn’t like his fish, even though grandpa fried it and there is actually no restaurant in the whole world that can fry fish as well as grandpa. There was Finland, thinks Berat. Then he hastily scoops the fish into the me, fidgets in his chair and says: Grandpa, can I get up? I have already eaten up! Grandpa nods.
Berat climbs up the ladder. On deck, he grabs the binoculars and hurries to the railing. He looks through the thick black pipes and discovers it immediately. Land! Finland! He sees a Ferris wheel. That turns. Quite clearly. And next to it a green monster. Little cars shoot out of his mouth and he thinks he hears other children. They laugh and shriek. When he takes off the binoculars, however, he sees nothing, there is only water. Berat examines the binoculars. Maybe his grandpa is right after all. But nothing can be seen from the outside. The binoculars look the same as they always do.
Berat shrugs his shoulders. Dusk is gradually falling and as soon as it gets darker on the horizon, he can’t see anything in the distance anyway. He had not spotted a lighthouse so far anyway. Berat joins his grandpa in the cabin. Grandpa reads him a story. But Berat can’t really concentrate that well today. He decides to stop thinking about the binoculars and just check everything again tomorrow. He would start right away, early, and then there would be a whole day of bright light and a clear horizon ahead of him.
The next morning Berat jumps out of his bunk early. He slips on his wool socks, his wax jacket and puts on his rubber boots. Then he is already on deck. But where are the binoculars? He looks for it on port and starboard. He searches in the nets and in the cabin. Grandpa, he calls, Grandpa, where are the binoculars? Grandpa comes to him and clutches his chin in perplexity. This is not a good gesture, Berat knows that very well. In such a case, grandpa usually can not help him. For a while longer, Berat examines every corner on the ship. But nothing can be done. The binoculars remain missing.
Then he remembers that there is another pair of binoculars. Upstairs, in a drawer, above the first aid kit. It’s not as good as the lost one, but still, Berat thinks. He climbs onto a chair. A violent wave is coming. Berat almost toppled over. But as often as Berat has been on the road with his grandpa now, nothing can really happen to him anymore. He catches himself skillfully, reaches the binoculars and jumps onto the padded bench. Only the chair falls to the floor with a crash that makes Grandpa look up in fright. Oh, the spare glass, I’d forgotten all about that, he says, looking strangely at the floor.
Berat has no time to think about his grandpa now. He lost so much time looking anyway. So he peeks out on deck and looks through the binoculars. But nothing. Wherever he looks. Water. To the right is water, to the left is water, in front, behind and also straight ahead is water. Nothing but water. That can’t be!” says Berat angrily into the wind. Yesterday it was there after all. Finland, where are you?
Grandpa comes and takes Berat in his arms. Tomorrow we will reach the mainland, says Grandpa. Tomorrow morning already. And if the wind is favorable, maybe even tonight. As soon as we get reception, we’ll call your mom and we’ll go to the adventure park immediately. I promise you that. Berat likes that when grandpa takes him in his arms. But he is still disappointed.
He can’t fall asleep for long that night. The wind was unfavorable, of course, and still nothing is in sight through the spare binoculars. Nothing at all. Water only. Water everywhere. Yet he was so sure. To make matters worse, it started raining heavily and the swell increased. Thus, the journey may be further prolonged. Hard to imagine if it would take one more day! Berat tries to imagine again what exactly he had seen. But the more he thinks about it, the less he knows at some point what had really been there. Eventually, he falls asleep.
When he opens his eyes the next morning, the sky still looks gray. But he hears voices and seagulls. When he pushes aside the curtain of his bunk, he sees concrete. Berat knows what that means. Still in his pajamas, he hurries up the ladder and there is Grandpa on deck, his mom next to him, holding tea cups in their hands. And in the background you can see a Ferris wheel. And a green monster, out of whose mouth whiz carts. Children laugh and shriek. Yes, shouts Berat, yes yes yes. He spins in circles, bouncing in the air, so that grandpa and mom laugh and have to catch him so that he doesn’t fall off the boat from sheer joy.