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Translations of Sjakie's Stories
originally in Dutch
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Stories index
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Every year we have a weekend away with friends. It's always fun and of course there will be plenty to drink. The location and program changes every year is only known to the organisers. It is usually the last weekend in August or the first weekend of September.
The invitation for this year's event (2001), as for every year, indicated that we should take a lot of old clothes and shoes, so no one suspected anything. Not even when we saw the location, a lovely secluded cabin with a kitchen, bar and plenty of sleeping space. Behind the log cabin was a forest, with a nice stream and a small lake.
After our Friday night feast where we'd consumed a variety of alcoholic drinks we were woken up Saturday morning with the announcement that breakfast was ready, and that we should all wear long pants, long sleaved shirts and sneakers.
We were told over breakfast what we would be doing, a survival course by the stream, so we would all get wet. I could have cried with happiness when I heard this. Why couldn't we wear shorts and t-shirts? Because there were big branches in the stream and the long pants were to protect the legs. And there were some nasty bushes across the stream, hence the long sleeves.
Tho activity was not compulsory, the faint-hearted could walk along by the side and watch. About 7 people dropped out, including three women. That left nine of us, including three women.
Anita was wearing tight jeans and had a red sweater. She was in the lifeguard, and used to being in wet clothes and she was obviously looking forward to it.
Carmen was the sportiest of the club and she had clearly opted for sports, black leggings and a tight green printed shirt.
Marjan had opted for a beige summer pants with a training jacket, she had nothing else with long sleeves.
I myself wore jeans and old broad t-shirt.
We went in the creek right behind the cabin. The water was surprisingly warm but also quite shallow. For the first 100 meters we walked through the water without getting very wet, the deepest point barely reached the knees and there were no obstacles.
Then a tree blocked the stream, the only way past was to crawl. I went first and took a crawling position in the water, imersing myself to the point where only my back remained dry. I crawled under the tree and at the final hurdle sat back in the water. I felt good as the water rose eup to my chest.
Anita was second and I saw her slowly descend into the water. Her jeans disappeared and her sweater was floating on the water. She had a camisole underneath, she told me later that she had no bathing suit and so just did in her underwear, just like me.
She went completely under while passing the tree soaking everything and then continued the same way out into the clear water beyond. She clearly enjoyed the water flowing through her clothes. I decided to do the same and what a wonderful feeling it was.
Carmen managed to get underneath it and still remain partly dry, only her leggings were all wet, which accentuated their sporty character even more.
In contrastm Marjan went completely under and crawled. Her legs were clearly visible through her thin summer trousers and her workout jacket became like a second skin.
After everyone had passed this hurdle it soon became clear that we really needed the clothes protection. First we had to go through a dense clump of bushes, where our wet clothes became covered with pollen and leaves. This must have been a funny sight for the spectators, because they laughed uproariously.
The pollen we could wash of through the crawl course, which had been marked for us through the water. Delicious, it was exciting.
At the end of the crawl we had to limbo-dance under a stick. This could only be done by lying backwards, with your back flat on the floor and then 'dancing' underneath the stick. Everyone was now completely wet.
Anita looked great in her wet jeans, shiny hair, and her dripping sweater, which looked half as big again in the water. The water pouring from her sweater made sure her jeans kept shining a long time and I made sure I stayed close to her.
Meanwhile, Marjan was a bit behind us and Carmen brought up the rear. At a certain spot we had to wait for each other. There were a lot of branches across the brook and the was only one way forward.
One of the organisers went first and we had to follow. Now we could see that long trousers were not a luxury. Afterwards we had to leave the stream once or twice to cross tributaries, before following the brook again to the point that the forest stopped. From here we left the river and ran, soaked, in the direction of the cabin.
Then it turned out that we were getting dessert. There was a small lake in front of us, and we were all given a cheap air mattress. This we had to blow up by mouth as quickly as possible and then row across the lake. The water was about two meters deep, so you had to be able to swim for this section, but everyone could.
I was quite fast at inflating air mattress, I placed it on the water and dived in order to create momentum. My dive shot me into the water, I did not mind, I love a dressed swim, but my lead was lost. I saw Anita, already on her air mattress, rowing with her hands.
I thought only one thing, to board her raft. It was as if she was waiting for me as I took her quickly and after a short struggle we both disappeared under water.
We came up at once, and we both had fun. Anita's rescue swimmer and she swam so fast to her air mattress it was as if she did not have any clothes on. She was quickly onto her air mattress and pushed mine even further away.
By the time I was back on my air mattress she was already far away and even though I was a better rower, I could not catch her.
When she was finished, she walked back into the water with the intention of throwing me off my air mattress. I rowed towards her and let it happen. Together we laughed and made fun of it and together we were the last out of the water. The rest were already sitting, wrapped in towels, waiting for us.
We walked back to the cabin where the participants could shower and don dry clothes. There were only two showers inside so we could not all go at once. My clothes were not just wet, but filthy to, so I decided to first rinse them under the outdoor shower. The water was cold but tolerable.
Moments later Anita appeared, still in her wet clothes and asked if she could rinse too. So we got wet as a pair and now we rinsed off as a pair. Good clean fun. The water gave her jeans an unprecedented shine and the feel of water flowing through my clothes completely made my morning.
We were the last ones to go inside to shower. I had taken off my wet clothes before I went into the hot shower. What Anita did I do not know. I did not ask her. She is the girlfriend of a good friend of mine and some questions are better not asked.
We went karting in the afternoon, which, for many, was the highlight of the day, but not for me and I like to think that Anita remembers with pleasure this morning. She is now married to my comrade, and they're still in the lifeguard. I have also some dark suspicion of why she joined and stays, I sometime think I should join for the same reason but I have no time.
The management of the youth association had organised a leadership weekend, focusing on governance and leadership but with the opportunity for fun sports and games and general togetherness.
For Saturday afternoon we had to bring our swimsuits and towels. We drove to the pool where we were split into four groups, yellow, green, blue and red. I was in red. We all got a t-shirt in the group's color and had to sit on a bench in the pool area waiting to be released into the water to play against each other.
To keep things simple for the judges we had swim with the shirts on (yes!). Our association has about 35 volunteers, with more women than men. The prospect of so many ladies (and myself) in wet T-shirts had me salivating.
The game pipeline was managed by Lisa and Ilse. Lisa wore black tight pants and a white shirt. Ilse stuck to shorts and a white shirt.
After listening to an explanation of the game we could go into the water to get used to it. Swimming in only a shirt is a wonderful feeling. The shirt floats everywhere around you and gives you a slight feeling that you are floating. I had known that feeling before, but for many it was a new acquaintance with clothes in water. There was also a lot of laughter and giggling, and some asked if it was permitted to remove the shirt, not so.
We came again to one side, and there we were, our soggy T-shirts stuck to our bodies. Some of the women were really nice to see.
We were first on the treadmill, up against the yellow team. We had to try to get as many balls across the street. If we fell into the water it was back to the start to try again. We lost no chances that way.
The second game was very nice. Our team was on a floating mattress and we had to defend against the green team. The green team a man on a mattress and we had to get it from him. A fun game wihch we won in the end because the greens could not withstand our attack from below. That was my idea, just because I wanted to swim under water wearing the shirt, another experience.
Then the tug-o-war was next. We stood on one side of the pool, the blues on the other, with a large rope in our hands. Our mission: pull all the blues into the water. It did not go as planned and we were pulled into the pool.
In the next game a walkway to the other side was created, formed of little islands. We had to try to carry as many balls as possible to the other side. That would have been quite easy had there not our green opponents with two large water spouts trying to knock us off. Only two of our team got across. We then got the chance to hold greens back, and we did, nNot one green making it.
After playing a fun game of water volleyball against the yellows and an air mattress race against the Blues this fun afternoon ended. We were finally third.
Of course we had to get the game leaders into the water. Lisa already felt all wet and apparently tried to get away, but was caught and disappeared into the water with leggings, shirt and whistle.
Ilse meanwhile had imersed herself.
We had one hour left to use the pool for free play. Most took their wet shirts off, to swim further in their swimsuits. I kept my shirt just to, as did a couple of other men and a few women. I love that feeling of wet clothes so I never considered removing it, the ladies who kept their shirts on were those that usually did the same at all youth camp water games.
Lisa had removed all her clothes, wrung them out and hung them up and just swam in her bathing suit. But not Ilse. She remained in the water wearing her shorts and white shirt until the end. She had a swimsuit underneath, but I did not expect anything else.
A successful afternoon I found, and I hope that something similar is organized again, I will come immediately.
I am a cook by profession, in a training kitchen, work I have been doing for some time now, with great pleasure. One of the nice things about it is that the summer students and trainees who leave at the end of the course are treated to a wet graduation. And I made sure I was involved.
In the army it was the other way around. Every new cook was baptized in a kettle of 2000 liters. I have had that honor and I was only too happy to be dunked, I stayed in the water for a while, just to enjoy my wet clothes. Only in the army kitchen there were no ladies.
After my military service I was in a kitchen setting, and there were regular students and trainees. The first dunking I witnessed was a farmer from a neighboring village. A sweet girl, with a heart of gold who worked like a horse.
On her last day we booked the pea soup kettle, a 1000 liter vessel. We had it filled with water at a comfortable temperature. However, she quite quickly realized that the water was intended for her and began to sabotage the process. She let boiler drain, which went unnoticed for a while.
Eventually though, we got hold of her and lowered her, despite her thrashing, gently into the water . She was dressed in a chef's trousers, a skirt and a cook's jacket over a white shirt. She had flipped off her shoes but still had her socks.
Once she was fully imersed in the water she sat quietly, like she had the very special feeling of being master of her situation. She was smiling, appearing not to mind mind that she had been suddenly soaked. She even asked for coffee, which she drank sitting in the water. After coffee she stepped quietly out of the water and went to change her clothes.
She has worked for 5 years in our organisation, but we only baptize once. When working summers I see her outside often at a swimming pool in our neighborhood. Regularly she wears her shirt in the water (not always) and sometimes her shorts.
The second girl was a tame lamb without a backbone, the daughter of a banker. When we were holding her up dip her into the water she screamed like a pig about to be slaughtered. So we did not give her a dunking, it would have been no fun at all.
Then came the daughter of a mechanic eager to learn, professionally, and well in the box, socially. She would only work the holiday and on her last day she was baptized by us. Not in that cauldron, which was already gone, but put in the shower.
She worre here chef's trousers and jacket, complete with shoes. I was the one who held her, so I was also soaked, wearing the same outfit. After a month of absence, she returned and then worked for 10 years with us.
The one I remember most is Lotte. It was a long hot summer and she clearly could not stand the heat which developed in the kitchen. When she was too hot she would stand under a cold shower in her chef's jacket, after which she worked cheerfully in her wet clothes.
We then had another hour lunch break, and there was bathing nearby. We went regularly during the heat wave for an afternoon swim, and Lotte came a few times. We always wore swimsuits on found it wonderful to cool off in the clear water.
Lotte had no bathing suit so she walked into the water her wearing her cook's clothes, dropped back and remained floating on the water for some minutes, visibly enjoying it.
Then she went back to work still in those wet clothes. Cook's clothes are made from a new type of fabric dries quickly, after all, in a kitchen there is a lot of water so after about an hour she was as good as dry. Eventually her time with us came to an end.
Meanwhile we had these large mixing bins on wheels as big as a bathtub. When she became aware that we were filling one for her farewell baptism she came voluntarily withought worry.
While the bin was not even full she dropped, sitting, into the water, calmly swamping her clothes, it did not matter to her. Maybe that was because that day it was almost 35 degrees outside.
Unfortunately Lotte is only stayed with us one summer, the heat in the kitchen was not her thing. I have only seen her once since, she is now a hospital receptionist where it is always cool.
Nowadays there is not much to do in the kitchen, everything comes from the factory. No kettles, no mixing baking, and no female holiday workers and trainees more. Sigh ... really, everything used to be better.
The ideal way to get wet fully clothed and to spot women doing the same is to join in the local hexathlon. I've been there often but there is not always much wetness. For instance, if it is over 25 degrees the ladies all wear bikinis or swimsuits, so I have to do likewise to not arouse suspicion.
My earliest memories were a famous slide-quiz. I had broken my arm, so I could not join in, just watch. In the women's round were many dressed ladies on platforms on top of a slope. At the bottom of the slope was a large basin. Every time one of the ladies got a question wrong her platform lifted up a notch, msking it harder to remain seated, until, inevitably, they would slide into the water.
Among the women taking part was my childhood sweetheart, Marion. She was there on behalf of the board of the basketball club, and she was more beautiful than ever before. She was wearing white pants and a red basketball shirt. Joke was also perched on a platform, in jeans and a blue t-shirt, on behalf of a neighborhood association.
The other women were in swimsuits and bikinis, though two wore their team shirts on top. One after another slid into the water. The two women in the t-shirts were the firstoff, followed by Joke, who went completely under. It was pure art to see her soaked, her shiny wet jeans and her tight wet t shirt sitting like a glove.
I did not have long to enjoy the site, she shot straight inside to change her clothes. Marion made the final and I was in two minds. On one hand, I hoped she would win because I still had some feelings for her, after all, she had been childhood sweetheart. On the other hand, those white pants and that red shirt, I had to see wet.
Fortunately, there is a god and both prayers were answered. She won, and then she voluntarily let herself slide into the water.
Once in the water they realized that her wet white pants had become transparent and she only came out of the water after she had wrapped a towel around her waist. That towel was also wet and therefore heavy.
The following year the hexathlon was moved to the lake, and I was present.
I participated with my neighborhood association and as an additional service teams could sit through all practice games. There was placed a log over the water with someone trying to stay sitting on it, while the other team had to turn it, a kind of log rolling. My brother and I were turning it and we were in the water up to our waists. My brother was in swimming trunks, but not I, I had forgetten mine so I kept on my jeans.
The lady who sat on the beam was Angela. She was dressed in sweatpants and track jacket with a shirt underneath. My brother and turned the log so furiously that Angela did not stay dry for long.
She tumbled into the water and took over my brother's position. Standing still in the water with all her wet clothes. She was like, I'm all wet, I might as well stay in the water.
Somehow I missed Sandra hitting the water. She belonged to my team, she stood there soaked by the side in jeans and a gray t-shirt.
One of the games involved a bit of swimming. Our coach wanted to know how long it would take, back and forth. As she was already wet, Sandra volunteered, she walked into the water still in her wet clothes and began swimming back and forth. What a beautiful sight, seeing Sandra walking out of the water in her wet jeans.
Meanwhile, Angela had rejoined us, still wearing her wet tracksuit. Angela swam competitivly and would be one of the swimmers the next day. She said she was faster and she ducked into the water in her tracksuit in order to show us. She was indeed a lot faster than Sandra, but what excited me even more was that I'd not expected to see two fully clothed ladies playing in the water, and that was just in my team.
Some of the other teams also had some ladies who had fallen into the water.
The next day was the day of the hexathlon. I had signed up for all the games to be done in the water. That day I wore shorts and a t-shirt.
For one game, there was to another person in the water to act as an uncooperative opponent. That was not told to us in advance. Monique finally notified them as she waded with me into the water. She wore a pair of leggings and a tight orange shirt.
With other teams was that ambiguity crept into it, each team needed an additional person in the water. Those who signed up voluntarily were mostly the ladies. The men came to better advantage in the game. The ladies, however, were better opponents at sabotage.
I saw that day girls go into the water in jeans, leggings and shorts, all wearing their team shirts. The day ended quite badly, a girl fell awkwardly in a shallow part of the water and was taken to hospital with a double fracture. Everyone was devastated. The games were canceled and the next three years there was no village hexathlon in the lake.
Eventually we made another tentative attempt. All the games involved inflatables and it was not on the lake but in the village square. There is almost nothing was done with water, unless it had come from the rain. The show is in my eyes lost all its charm, yet:
Last year there was a bar on a tray, and although the day was beautiful weather, There were several ladies in trousers and shirts who went into the water. Maybe it all will come back, but now I'm too old to join in though I can still be a coach, and maybe get thrown into the water.