The World That Dreams with Awakened Eyes

I am Desto, and my name means "awake." I was born in 1900 in Chioggia, a fishing village on the edge of the Venetian Lagoon. At that time my cousins "trabaccoli" had been covering most of the Adriatic cargo shipping for a full two centuries and they diligently transported goods with their chunky, rounded bodies on sails and eyes on the bow. These were some different, slow times.

Before the Second World War, we started getting diesel engines, and as workboats, we gained a new power, so our sails were reduced and were left only as auxiliary power.

When cargo began to be transported by land, our species was coming to an end, and then many of us fell silent and disappeared forever. Nevertheless, some have managed to survive and adapt to tourist travel.

My journey was like that as well. I changed several owners, but the first man who loved me to the end was Frane Cukrov. It was only with his family that I knew I had come home. I experienced full maturity with them, and as a "salbunar" boat, I extracted and transported sea sand.

My cargo boat life ended when I took people to the Kornati for the first time in 1985. I thought how nice it is to transport live cargo.

I also wanted to cruise them to the Krka River. To perform that, I had to abandon the mast because the Skradin bridge's height did not allow me to pass unhindered. It was not easy for me to give it up, but to survive, a boat sometimes has to lose some parts which I thought they were forever mine.

I am a "trabaccolo" with a wooden superstructure, an indoor saloon for 80 passengers and as such, I am a hybrid of the new age. I drive smiling and cheerful people on romantic tours to Krka River and the Šibenik archipelago.

In 1991, war broke out in my country, so the following year I suddenly reloaded the cargo and in the Libertas convoy, with a group of other ships, transported aid to Dubrovnik city. There I was then stopped by a large military boat that, 16 years later, turned out to be destined to become a member of the same family's fleet. That boat is INA.

After a while, peace finally came, and I started transporting smiling people again.

At one point, the grandfather handed my helm to the hands of the grandson. My captain is presently Marko Cukrov. He understands me and mollycoddles me.

I am Desto; a boat which is awake for 120 years.

There are still leftover grains of sand in my ribs, and I still remember my sails.

If you want to meet me, find me in the port of Vodice, and I promise, I will show you the world that dreams with awakened eyes.


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