6th Day 3 at sea. A beautiful bright sunny morning, the first we’ve had yet. As if to celebrate, it was decided to hoist the sails. Surprisingly, it wasn’t all; that smooth an operation – I suppose basically these guys spend the vast majority of their time in port, loading + unloading, + simply don’t get enough practice at the various acts of seamanship they are required to perform. As I said, they are very nimble + sure-footed about the ship, but for any task that requires a bit of teamwork, there is no leadwership, no organisation, + consequently they drift thro’ their tasks at a bit of a loss. However, the sails were hoisted – 2 stay-sails + the main – + very pretty we looked too. We also picked up speed in dramatic fashion, but as we don’t have any instruments on board – not up on the bridge at any rate – I couldn’t give any figures. There are very few concessions to the modern world made at all, actually. We have an engine, of course, + a very powerful one. Attendant upon that is electric power, driving lights + a power-point to work the stereo. And there is a kerosene pump stove with just one ring. And that’s about it. There are 2 compasses, + one pair of binoculars, but they’ve been around for quite a while now. Other than that, nothing. No sat nav, no radar, no RDF (fair enough.) But no radio of any kind, receiver or transmitter. No sextant (+ no tables to use, even if there were one.) Not a single winch of any description. Yet they seem to get by, + more than get by.
It looked so inviting out on deck, that despite my earlier fears, I thought I’d risk the short trip from the galley to the hatch cover which, being covered with a sack-like material, provides a good grip. It was a piece of cake, actually (being a calm sea, no rain, + no roll), + it was very very good to lie there in the sunshine with a few of the crew, the sail billowed above us. Val too came down briefly, + Harry took a picture or (knowing him) five, from the bridge. I also played LBM at chess, but lost. In time returned to the bridge to read, + soon after they took the sails down. I believe tho’, that rather than being anything to do with me, this was because of a storm up ahead. Or perhaps, because we were being forced to go too far off course. With no way, once out of sight of land, of determining position, I imagine their navigation is done by dead reckoning, so they can’t afford to mess around overmuch with tacking + whatnot.
We spent the rest of the day in the usual way, reading, writing, etc. A big tin of biscuits made its appearance, presumably “damaged goods” from the hold, + we, along with everybody else, dipped into those quite merrily – a little over-sweet, of course, but at least fresh.
Today’s pen-picture is at the other end of the chain of authority from the captain. Tom (at least that’s our name for him) the cabin-boy. He is young, 15 or 16 I’d say, but not at all slight – the work here puts muscles on the slightest frame. He is smooth-complexioned, crew-cut, + had a terrific wide grin which flashes across his face whenever he sees us. He knows a few words of English too, + delights in trying them out. The other day, for example, our dinner was brought up to us on the back-deck – rice + fish. Tom pointed this out to us. “Ikan,” he said, “Feesh.” And out came that grin – magic. He’s a terrific little disco dancer too – rhythm, enthusiasm + energy. I reckon he must have put in quite a bit of practice somewhere, but God knows how. He gets quite a few of the boring jobs around – fetching, + then boiling, water – but Val + I caught our first glimpse of him this morning, not having seen him since we pulled out. We’d become a little worried, thinking that our favourite cabin boy had got himself washed overboard, but from hints I’ve received I believe he’s been stricken down with mal de mer – you’ll have to grow out of that one, son.
Another pleasant day at sea. and plenty of photos to illustrate the point.
