The announcement of price increases in 1976 — Prime Minister Jaroszewicz withdraws the increases — Toxic words from First Secretary of the Communist Party, Edward Gierek and severe reprisals of arrested workers — The yacht Orion in Giżycko — Meeting with an epee fencer and an Olympian — Melchior Wańkowicz and Na Tropach Smętka — A gift for an indomitable windsurfer — The introduction of sugar ration cards — Sailing on Lakes Kisajno, Dargin, Mamry, and Sztynorckie — A visit to the village of Sztynort — Cracking folding bicycles made by “Romet” — Communist-era life jackets — Towing a yacht through the canal to Węgorzewo — The shocking news in Wiadomości Wędkarskie
In June 1976, we were hiking in the Beskid Sądecki Mountains in southern Poland. It was precisely June 25, 1976. We were walking from Szczawnica to Przehyba (49°27'58.2"N 20°33'21.2"E / 49.466167, 20.555889). That day we bought a newspaper containing the full text of a speech delivered the previous day by Prime Minister Piotr Jaroszewicz. The speech concerned planned food price increases. Meat was to become approximately 69% more expensive, butter and dairy products about 50% more expensive, and sugar a staggering 100% more expensive.
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| Prime Minster Piotr Jaroszewicz Source: Narodowe Archiwum Cyfrowe |
When we reached the mountain shelter (refuge/hostel/hut) on Przehyba, located at an elevation of 1,138 metres (3,734 ft), where we planned to spend the night, the proposed price increases dominated nearly every conversation. Hikers and tourists discussed the situation intensely and wondered what the consequences might be.
That evening, together with many other guests, we gathered in a large common room to watch television. Suddenly Prime Minister Piotr Jaroszewicz appeared on the screen and announced that the government was withdrawing the planned food price increases.
Applause broke out throughout the room. Some people clapped spontaneously, while others quietly commented on the astonishing development.
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| Stamps and envelope commemorating the June '76 protests. "We want bread!" "Stop the train!" "Down with the price hikes!" |
At that moment none of us knew that massive workers' protests had erupted earlier that day in Radom, Ursus, Płock, and several other Polish cities. Nevertheless, everyone sensed that something very serious must have happened for the government to reverse a major economic decision only one day after announcing it.
Only later did we learn that the workers' protests had been brutally suppressed by the militia and security services, and that many participants were subsequently subjected to reprisals.
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| Silver coin issued on in June, 2026, to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the June, 1976 protests |
This was hardly surprising. On June 26, 1976, the First Secretary of the Central Committee of the Polish United Workers' Party (PZPR), Edward Gierek, reacted to the events in Radom with fury. During a teleconference with the first secretaries of the provincial party committees, he demanded that the protesters be condemned and humiliated. He ordered that people be shown
"how much we hate them, what scoundrels they are, and how their actions are harming the country. I believe that the more words of condemnation are directed at them—and even if you demand that irresponsible elements be dismissed from their workplaces—the better it will be for the cause. [...] There must be an atmosphere in which they are pointed out as black sheep, as people who should be ashamed that they are Poles at all, that they even walk this earth."
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| First Secretary of the Central Committee of the Polish United Workers' Party (PZPR), Edward Gierek |
The First Secretary also ordered that the inhabitants of Radom—the city where the most violent street clashes had taken place and where, among other things, the provincial party headquarters had been set on fire—be singled out for particular humiliation. Party activists from neighbouring provinces were to be brought to a rally in the city:
"the people of Radom must be gathered together and told how we judge them, how they raised their children, and how they are harming Poland. Simply put, comrades, the people of Radom should feel that all of Poland despises them, that all of Poland has grievances against them, and that all of Poland will remember this for a long time."
Gierek interrupted the head of the Radom party committee, who was reporting on the situation, saying:
"Tell your Radom residents that I don't give a damn about them all, and I don't give a damn about all these actions either. You caused such a ruckus and you want to be treated gently? They're troublemakers, I won't forget that."
That same day, during the evening broadcast of the state television news program Dziennik Telewizyjny, the official position of the authorities was presented by Maciej Szczepański, Chairman of the Committee for Radio and Television. Without mincing words, he condemned those who had disrupted the alleged "consultations"—the deceitful term used by the authorities to describe the price increases:
"hooligan and criminal elements who vandalized state property and looted both public and private property, especially in Ursus and Radom."
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| Coin commemorating the 30th anniversary of the June, 1976 protests |
In a broader sense, June 1976 marked the beginning of the end of the Gierek era—a process that eventually led to the birth of the Solidarity movement in August 1980 and, ultimately, to the collapse of Communist rule in Poland.
But on that June evening in 1976, sitting in a mountain hostel on Przehyba, we knew none of this. We only knew that the government had reversed course with such astonishing speed that something far more significant must have happened than the state-controlled television was willing to admit.
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More than a month later, on August 7, 1976, I travelled with a close family member, S.K., his wife K.K., and one of their friends to the Masurian Lake District, Poland's famous region of interconnected lakes in the northeast of the country. In the town of Giżycko, we were given a sailing yacht, "Orion" class, equipped with a cabin that accommodated a crew of five.
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| Yacht "Orion" Source: Wikipedia Commons. Author: Bosek1313 |
For the first several days we remained moored at the Almatur marina on Lake Kisajno (54°02'14.1"N 21°43'58.0"E / 54.037250, 21.732778). There, enormous painted eyes constantly seemed to watch over us. These iconic eyes, known among sailors as the “Eyes of Masuria,” still exist today and remain famous among generations of Polish sailors.
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| Source: Gazeta Olsztyńska, https://gazetaolsztynska.pl/artykul/oczy-od-pol-wieku-patrza-n1845753 |
During our stay we became friends with several fellow boaters. They visited our yacht, and we visited theirs. One of them was an exceptionally friendly man who owned a motorboat. Together with his wife, he returned each day from fishing with the maximum number of fish allowed under Polish fishing regulations. On several occasions he generously shared part of his catch with us. If I remember correctly, some of the fish were even smoked.
S.K. and K.K. also invited him aboard our yacht several times.
He possessed excellent fishing equipment, which was hardly surprising because he was the president of Polsping, one of Poland's leading manufacturers of fishing tackle. I myself had frequently visited the company's store at 42 Krajowej Rady Narodowej Street in Warsaw (before the war and today known as Twarda Street).
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The same building also housed the headquarters of the Polish Angling Association, where fishing permits were issued and renewed. Every year, enormous lines of people would form there to renew their permits. It was practically a textbook example of bureaucracy perfected.
The building also contained the “Delfin” cinema. From time to time, while visiting the building, I would encounter older gentlemen, usually dressed in suits and wearing various badges on their lapels. I was told that they were “officials” or “activists” of the Polish Angling Association.
Ever since then, the word “activist” has always brought to mind exactly those kinds of people—elderly gentlemen in suits, appearing to live rather comfortably, somewhat detached from everyday reality, and almost certainly enjoying certain privileges associated with their positions.
What I often wondered, however, was what their actual activity consisted of. Did they genuinely do useful work for anglers, or was their main occupation attending countless meetings, electing new committees, awarding badges and awards (to one another?), drafting reports, and delivering speeches that nobody really listened to?
In communist Poland, the word “activist” often carried a special meaning. It did not necessarily refer to someone performing practical work, but rather to a person involved in various organizations, associations, and committees, spending a considerable amount of time attending meetings, conferences, and administrative gatherings. To many ordinary citizens, however, it remained something of a mystery what tangible results this activity actually produced.
*
But back to the excellent angler: As it turned out, Jerzy Strzałka—as that was his name—was also a distinguished athlete. He had been Polish national champion in épée fencing in 1962, a member of the famous CWKS Legia Warsaw sports club, a member of Poland's world-champion team in 1963, and an Olympian who competed at the 1960 Rome Olympics. I am glad we met him.
★★★
Most likely it was Jerzy Strzałka himself who told us a story about encountering the famous Polish writer and journalist Melchior Wańkowicz somewhere near Giżycko.
Perhaps the legendary writer, who had mentioned Giżycko in his famous reportage-travel book On the Trail of Smętek (Na tropach Smętka), had returned to the region to see how much it had changed since he had written it. By the way, Smętek (Kashubian: Smãtk) is a demonic devil maliciously tormenting people, appearing in Kashubian and Masurian folk legends and songs. Most likely a remnant of the cult of some deity or demon from pre-Christian times.
Melchior Wańkowicz (1892–1974) was one of Poland's most celebrated writers and journalists, often regarded as the father of modern Polish literary reportage. His book On the Trail of Smętek, published in 1936, described his journey through Masuria, then part of East Prussia in Germany. The book combined travel writing, reportage, history, and social commentary, and became an important document of the region in the years before World War II.
After the war, the borders of Poland shifted westward, East Prussia ceased to exist, and Giżycko became part of Poland. If Wańkowicz did indeed revisit the area decades later, he would have found a region transformed not only by war but also by profound political and demographic changes.
The success of On the Trail of Smętek (Na tropach Smętka) was remarkable. Within less than four years of its publication in 1936, the book went through nine editions—an extraordinary achievement for a work of reportage in pre-war Poland.
The ninth and final pre-war edition had an especially dramatic fate. In September 1939, during the German invasion of Poland, German forces seized copies directly from the printing presses in the city of Bydgoszcz before they could be distributed.
The book is widely regarded as one of the finest works of Polish literary reportage published during the interwar period. Its popularity stemmed not only from Wańkowicz's engaging style but also from the subject itself. Through his travels in East Prussia, he documented the lives of the Polish-speaking inhabitants of Masuria and described the growing pressure of Germanization in the region.
The reaction of the German authorities was predictably hostile. Because of what they considered the author's openly anti-German views, the Gestapo prohibited the publication and distribution of Wańkowicz's works in Nazi Germany.
After the outbreak of World War II in September 1939, Wańkowicz became a person of particular interest to the German authorities. Owing in large part to the publication of On the Trail of Smętek, he was actively sought by the Germans during the opening weeks of the war.
Fortunately, he managed to escape to Romania before he could be arrested. Later, he described the dramatic circumstances of his wartime flight and exile in his autobiographical book Green on the Crater (Ziele na kraterze).
Today, On the Trail of Smętek is valued not only as an outstanding travel narrative but also as an important historical document. It preserves a vivid picture of East Prussia and Masuria in the final years before World War II—a world that would be profoundly transformed by the conflict and would largely disappear after 1945.
I remember seeing Melchior Wańkowicz at one of the book fairs held near the Palace of Culture and Science in Warsaw. Unfortunately, I was too young at the time to know who he was or to appreciate his importance.
It was only when I was in my twenties that I began reading his books, and I found them absolutely fascinating. His works combined travel writing, reportage, history, and personal observation in a way that few other writers could match. (Information from Wikipedia).
As a result, I have often regretted not asking him for his autograph when I had the chance. At the time, he was simply another author at a book fair. Only years later did I realize that I had unknowingly stood just a few steps away from one of the greatest figures in Polish literature and reportage.
★★★
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| I'm ashamed to admit it, but the photo shows that I caught more fish back then than I do in Canada now... |
One late afternoon a group of people appeared at the marina. One of the men was attempting to learn windsurfing for the very first time.
It was not an easy task.
Every few minutes he would fall into the water, but he refused to give up. He would climb back onto the board and try again.
After quite a long struggle, he finally managed to return to shore, greeted by enthusiastic applause from his friends. We heard that his name was Klemens.
At that point S.K. decided that such perseverance deserved recognition.
He sent me over to him like a waiter. I carried a diving fin that served as a tray, upon which stood a shot glass filled with vodka.
“Mr. Klemens, I admire your determination! As a reward, please accept this modest gift from me!” shouted S.K. as I approached the exhausted windsurfer.
About fifteen minutes later, Mr. Klemens and several of his friends came aboard our yacht. We spent several pleasant hours chatting, enjoying snacks, and probably a few stronger beverages as well. Thanks to his outgoing personality, S.K. never had the slightest difficulty making new friends wherever he went.
At the same time, radio programs increasingly featured reporters interviewing people who complained about the shortage of sugar. Interestingly, many of those interviewed blamed other citizens, who had supposedly “bought up all the sugar.”
Five years later, in 1981, when stores very often had literally nothing on their shelves, I met a woman who also blamed society for the shortages. According to her, “there’s nothing in the stores because people buy everything.”
Indeed, what terrible people! Instead of politely coming to the stores, admiring the products, and appreciating their attractive packaging, they had the audacity to buy them—and then, to make matters even worse, actually consume them! No wonder the shelves were empty.
It reminded me of the story of a miserly cart driver who decided to teach his horse not to eat. After thirteen days of this “experiment,” the horse finally collapsed from exhaustion and died. The owner then complained to everyone around him that his plan had been on the verge of success:
“Just think—everything was going so well! Another day or two and the horse would have completely gotten used to not eating. But the stupid animal died and ruined everything!”
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| These are the fish I apparently caught from our sailboat. Jerzy Strzałka provided us with bigger fish, like pike, instead of the roach (płotki) that I caught. |
On the evening of August 12, 1976, I was alone aboard the yacht. While listening to the radio, I heard astonishing news: the government had decided to introduce ration cards for sugar, although officials carefully avoided using the word “ration cards.”
When S.K. and K.K. returned to the boat, I informed them that sugar would soon be rationed in Poland.
They could not believe it.
S.K. bluntly declared that I had “been watching too many movies and reading too many books about the German occupation.”
Soon enough, however, he had to admit that I was right.
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| Sugar coupons officially entered circulation in the Polish People's Republic on August 12, 1976. Although the first printed "goods tickets" were actually dated July 25, 1976, they began to be widely redeemed in stores only in mid-August. The authorities avoided the name "card" (kartka) due to negative associations with the German occupation (where ration cards were common), officially calling them "goods tickets." |
These were the first food ration coupons introduced in Poland in decades. During the 1980s the rationing system expanded to cover numerous other products, including meat, butter, flour, gasoline, and many everyday necessities. Ration cards became one of the most recognizable symbols of life during the economic crisis of late Communist Poland and remained in use until 1989.
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| Źródło: OpenStreet Map |
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| In Sztynort. From left: a crew member (NN), K.K., and yours truly. I can’t believe how skinny I was back then! Mind you, we didn't have McDonald's and fast food around every corner... |
We also entered Lake Sztynorckie and visited the village of Sztynort. In those days it was still a small and quiet settlement. I do not recall seeing many sailors there at all. It is difficult to compare it with today's bustling marina complex and one of the most popular sailing destinations in Masuria.
Around that time we became friendly with the crew of a somewhat larger yacht. Its 'skipper' told us about a dangerous storm he had encountered on Lake Mamry. His crew consisted of his wife and daughter (or perhaps daughters), none of whom had been prepared for such severe weather conditions.
It also turned out that he was either the president or a senior executive of the famous Romet bicycle factory in Bydgoszcz, which manufactured, among other things, Poland's popular folding bicycles.
I owned one of those bicycles myself and was generally quite satisfied with it.
However, I will never forget one particular incident.
While riding, I suddenly felt that something was very wrong. It seemed as if someone had shoved me from behind. A moment later I was lying on the ground.
Fortunately, I was not injured.
The head tube had broken. It completely broke — I was holding the handlebars and part of the frame in my hand, and the rest of the bike was about a meter away from me.
When I told him this story, he admitted without much surprise that the frames of those bicycles did indeed sometimes crack. Even more astonishingly, the tone of his voice suggested that he regarded this as little more than a minor inconvenience.
Thank goodness Romet did not manufacture airplanes...
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| I have always enjoyed swimming in open water lakes. |
In the middle of one of the lakes, K.K. decided to go for a swim. For safety she put on a Communist-era life jacket, known in Poland as a kapok.
I do not know how many readers still remember those devices.
They consisted of two large buoyant “pillows,” one worn on the chest and the other on the back, covered with grayish-white fabric and connected by straps.
I never wore them because they were extraordinarily uncomfortable.
Today, when paddling a canoe in Canada, I almost always wear a modern personal flotation device. It is comfortable, does not restrict movement, and even provides some protection from cold and wind.
I also remember reading a newspaper article during the Communist era describing a youth sailing competition. When one of the boats capsized, the young sailors found themselves in the water and, to the horror of the spectators, began removing their life jackets--i.e., kapoks.
The reason was simple: the kapoks absorbed water like sponges and slowly sank!
But returning to K.K.'s experience—when she entered the water wearing her kapok, its buoyancy forced it upward so strongly that it pressed against her neck and throat. Breathing became difficult and normal swimming was nearly impossible.
Observing this, S.K. remarked that the purpose of the kapok seemed to be to strangle drowning people so that they would not have to suffer for too long.
And, frankly, he may have had a point...
From Lake Mamry we continued through the canal toward Węgorzewo. The weather was dreadful. It was raining, fog hung over the water, and because our yacht had no engine and there was virtually no wind, I spent much of the journey walking along the canal bank and towing the yacht with a rope.
After a while I gathered such momentum that when S.K. wandered off briefly and later returned, he could not find the yacht.
I had already pulled it several hundred metres farther down the canal.
Overall, it was a wonderful and unforgettable sailing adventure. To this day I remain deeply grateful to S.K. and K.K. for giving me the opportunity to participate in it.
In later years I attended several additional sailing camps in Masuria organized by the sailing club of the Polish Academy of Sciences. Perhaps one day I will write about those experiences in a separate blog post.
Several months later, while browsing an issue of Wiadomości Wędkarskie (Angling News), I came across an extensive photo report devoted to Jerzy Strzałka.
The reason for the article, however, was a very sad one.
Jerzy Strzałka had died only two months after our meeting, on October 13, 1976, at the age of just forty-three.
All of us were deeply shocked and saddened by the news.
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To conclude, I can add that not long afterward my contact with S.K. suddenly ended, for reasons I still cannot understand to this day 😯. However, in the late 1980s, K.K., following a change in her marital status (and surname 😉), emigrated to Canada, and over the years we met many times in my adopted homeland.
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Blogi są również dostępne w języku polskim/blogs are also available in the Polish language
*****
More from the author
This entry is part of a broader collection of personal research and historical documentation across multiple blogs:
👉 Travel and nature archive/blog/: https://ontario-nature.blogspot.com/
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