In the next port, the ship loaded coal. Chief Officer John came to me while I was on duty and said, “For coal, there are some rules. No work on deck because of the methane explosive fumes that coal produces in a closed space. We will ventilate the holds every day for a few hours by opening those small hatches.” He pointed out the small hatches on the cargo hold. There were a total of six hatches per hold, three on the starboard side and three on the port side. “But not too much,” Chief Officer John added. “Also, during bad weather, we must close the hatches so that seawater doesn’t come in. It will turn into acid and corrode the hold.”
I said, “Understood, Chief.”
The 3rd Officer came to us and said, “Did you hear a sister ship just had an accident?”
Chief Officer John said, “No. What happened?”
The 3rd Officer said, “A young deckhand was cut in half. The official report in the company circular letter stated that the kid was off duty, not dressed in working clothes, and ventured there without anyone’s knowledge.”
Chief Officer John shook his head and said, “What are they covering up, like the kid has nothing better to do than to stick himself between the hatch and cover.”
The 3rd Officer chuckled and said, “Right! Well, I know the 2nd Officer over there, and I gave him a call. He said, ‘The kid was ordered to clean the watertight joint, and a drunk bosun closed the hatch while the kid was cleaning.'“
Chief Officer John lowered his head and said, “Poor kid. So what about the bosun?”
The 3rd Officer said, “Nothing, he is still there. It’s one of their own from the company. A lawyer contacted the family of the kid to sue the company, but the family didn’t want that. They were not interested in the money. They just want the body of their son back.”
Chief Officer John said, “What! They had to sue them. I understand that money probably has no value for them, but without this, no one is taking responsibility for a human life.”
The 3rd Officer said, “There was a guy before you came. He fell into the hold while cleaning. He was in a rush, so he climbed up, and somehow the air hose got between his legs. He stumbled into a sixteen-meter hole. The Captain smiled upon inspecting the dead body because he concluded that the worker didn’t have safety gloves. With a smile, he said, ‘Now I can call the company and tell them not to worry because he had no gloves.’ He blamed the worker for not wearing safety equipment.”
Chief Officer John said, “Like gloves are going to save him from a sixteen-meter fall. These stupid regulations—no one values human life or their families back home.”
I tuned out from this depressing reality and looked down at the soldier standing on shore near the gangway. A military truck with a crane and a guard house approached, setting down the military guard house near the gangway. The military guard was dressed in full combat gear, with four clips of spare ammo on his combat vest and an automatic rifle in his hands.
In the evening, a bunch of us went out and waved to the soldier stationed at the gangway. When we reached the gate, we were searched by the military. One of them near the table said, “No knives, no tools.”
Almost all of us had something, as a seaman’s standard gear included a knife and flashlight. I had a knife, a small flashlight, a multitool knife, and pepper spray. The soldiers placed my stuff on the table and moved me in front of it.
The military man who spoke earlier said, “Rambo. What is this? No. No. No. I give this back after you come. Now go.” They let me out into the city, and there was Bosun Lemmy standing with some crew from the other ship.
One of the other crew said, “Come with us to a bar, we are buying.”
I followed them to the entrance of the first bar on the right. Everyone went in, and Bosun Lemmy grabbed my hand.
Bosun Lemmy said, “We are not going in there.”
I said, “What!? Why?”
Bosun Lemmy said, “Check out the bouncer. He is not local, and by the language he just spoke, it’s foreign mafia. Trust me on this one.”
I looked at the bouncer. He was dressed in a business suit and was big, bald, and had tattoos around his neck and on his hands—his body was probably covered in tattoos. At that point, I left Bosun Lemmy as he was more interested in a bar, and I wanted to explore the city.
The city center featured modern skyscrapers, shopping centers, and cultural attractions, but my attention was caught by a big market sign for an underground shopping complex. As I went down below the street, I was stunned; it looked like an underground city full of shops that spread as far as the eye could see. It was filled with a variety of shops, ranging from clothing boutiques and electronics stores to food stalls and cafes. I decided to walk straight and see how long this underground shopping mall was. The tunnel-like passage was bustling with activity, as shoppers moved through the maze of shops. The atmosphere was lively and vibrant, with the scent of street food wafting through the air and the sound of shopkeepers calling out to potential customers. After walking for half an hour and browsing around, I reached a shop with T-shirts.
A small, young local seller approached me and said, “Come inside, look. Look.” He walked behind me, literally pushing me in, and added, “You like something, very cheap, special price for you.”
I browsed for a bit but saw nothing of interest. As I was leaving, I was suddenly surrounded by a group of small local people. They appeared so quickly that I thought, ‘Were they hiding behind the shirts or what?’
The seller said, “You no buy, you no leave. You buy, you go.”
I smiled; they looked like children, and I could easily throw them all over the place, but I had to stay cool in a foreign country with military presence everywhere. Who knows where I would end up? I looked again at all the T-shirts and noticed they were all colorful. I said, “OK. I want a black T-shirt like the one I’m wearing.”
The seller quickly browsed his stock and said, “I have here this or this.” He showed me some black T-shirts with printed pictures or signs.
I replied, “No, like my T-shirt. Plain black. No pictures, no color, nothing.”
The seller browsed his store and said, “I have no plain black.”
I said, “OK, you no have, I no buy.”
The seller got agitated. He waved his hands and shouted, “You buy. You buy now.”
I said calmly with a smile, “I have the money and I will buy, but only a plain black T-shirt.”
The seller nervously searched the entire store. Eventually, he came to me and waved his hand at me. He said, “You buy. You buy.” He threw a random T-shirt at me and shouted, “You buy now.”
I sat the T-shirt on the table and said, “No. I only buy black. You no have. Bye.” I used a bit of force to move these locals aside and went outside. They all jumped on the door behind me. I waved them goodbye and continued down the street, thinking, ‘Ufff, that was a close one.’
I browsed more carefully further on. I would look if the sellers were old people because they were usually nice and didn’t have any attitude problems or ambushes. I reached the exit, and a few hours went by, so I decided to turn back and head back to the ship. At the exit, I saw Deckhand Eric.
Deckhand Eric said, “Let’s go get a drink.”
I said, “OK, lead the way.”
We went to a random bar that was filled with foreign women. We sat down, ordered some drinks, and within a few minutes, two girls joined us with small glasses filled with what looked like orange juice. The glasses resembled miniature wine glasses, and you could easily drink the juice in one sip.
I said to Deckhand Eric, “I heard of this from my father. I think they call them Juicy bars. You pay for her drinks, and she keeps you company, and this juice is around ten dollars.”
Deckhand Eric looked pale and said, “Ten dollars for this juice?”
The tall blonde girl next to me had long hair, and every inch of her body was in the right place. She said, “Hi there, are you new here?”
I said, “How much is your drink?”
The blonde girl smiled and said, “Five USD.”
The short woman sitting next to Deckhand Eric had a classic black bob haircut and an athletic body.
Deckhand Eric downed his entire glass of beer and waved to the bartender, shouting, “Give me something stronger to improve my game.”
I said to the blonde girl, “You should have asked if we wanted company. Who will pay for your drinks now?”
The blonde girl leaned on me and said, “I’m sorry. We thought you knew what kind of bar this is.” She stood up, and you could see some local people stare at her—probably the bar owners.
An old local women approached us, looking dominantly at the blonde. “Is everything ok!?” the old lady asked.
I pulled the blonde girl by the hand to sit down and said, “Yes, everything is fine.”
The old lady nodded and walked away.
I could see the blonde girl was uncomfortable with that old lady snooping around. I leaned to the blonde girl and whispered, “You ok. What happens if you are not with customers?”
The blonde girl said, “They treat us very badly, lock us up, and give us no money.”
I said, “They lock you up, all of you? So, you can’t go out with me on the street?”
The blonde girl said, “No. I can’t leave this building.”
I said, “How long have you been here?”
The blonde girl said, “For nine months.”
I said, “Wow, you are trapped like me, although you can’t get out.”
The blonde woman asked, “What do you do?”
I replied, “We are seamen from a ship.”
The blonde girl smiled and said, “You must travel all over the world. See beautiful places.”
I said, “Believe me, it’s just concrete here, concrete there. Nothing special. What did you do?”
The blonde girl said, “I’m a hoohere.”
I asked, “A what?”
The blonde girl said, “Hoohere.”
I looked confused, and the girl with the black hair said, “Prostitute.”
I said, “You meant hooker, but what did you do before?”
The blonde girl said, “I was a hairdresser.”
I said, “How come you are here?”
The blonde girl said, “My village is very poor, so I came here to make some money while I’m young and beautiful.”
I asked, “How much money do you make?”
The blonde girl replied, “One USD per glass.”
I opened my eyes widely and said, “One dollar? You must drink a lot of juice to make some money.” I picked up the glass and placed 5 USD dollars under it. I said, “Here. One dollar, that is stupid. Maybe for you it’s a lot of money, but really it isn’t.”
The blonde girl looked at me like I gave her 100 USD and said, “Thank you, thank you.” She hugged me, and she was strong but athletically built.
I looked around, and there were a lot of girls, all athletically built. I pointed out at other girls and said, “You all look very slim but strong. You all do some sports or…?”
The black-haired girl said, “Women have gymnastics and acrobatics in school. From little girls, they train us.”
I said, “Special schools or regular for all kids?”
The blonde girl said, “Regular, all country, all girls, so our body is strong.” The blonde girl showed me her leg in a high heel. Just pure perfection, a nice smooth leg with gentle muscle contours. A mosquito landed on her knee, and I slapped it with my right palm.
I said, “Bad mosquito.”
The blonde girl smiled and said, “Mosquito. I know that word. We use it also.”
I said, “Our language is similar. We all live on the same continent.”
Some foreign men barged in the door and shouted something as he spit on the floor. In-house security rushed to the door with electric bats and scared off the foreign men.
I asked, “What did those guys say?”
The blonde girl lowered her head and said, “They were from our country and they called us prostitutes and scum.”
One from the security passed by us with the electric bat. The girls quickly drank their juice.
The blonde girl said, “Sorry I took too much time. I have to drink so you spend more money here.”
I said, “No worries, we have to go anyway.”
I looked at Deckhand Eric, who drooled over the black-haired girl. I raised up to leave, and the blonde girl grabbed my hand.
The blonde girl said, “Are you coming back? We didn’t have nice people like you in a while. And you know, we are from the same region.”
I looked around and saw that almost every customer was either a local or a foreigner who resembled them. I was taller than them by at least a head, as were the girls.
I said, “Sorry, the ship is leaving. You take care now.” For some reason, a part of me didn’t want to leave her there alone in that prison, but I had to go.
We left the bar, and I had to guide Deckhand Eric back to the ship. He was a little drunk, but just enough to be disoriented.
Back at the gate, the military man shouted, “Rambo!” I just smiled and took my gear from them.
Back on the ship’s gangway, Neanderthal AB said, “There is some problem with the engine room, brother, so it looks like we will be here for a week.”
Deckhand Eric mumbled, “Irene… we must go back.”
I said to Neanderthal AB, “It was his first time at a juice bar.”
Neanderthal AB laughed and said, “How much did you spend, brother?”
I said, “Not much, just one round.”
Neanderthal AB said, “Be careful, brother. At some bars, they even charge snacks at crazy prices. One time, we were held until one of us went to the ship and got the money.”
I said, “My dad told me there should always be one sober person in the group to keep track of what is going on. Well, I can’t drag Eric anymore. See you later.”
I dropped off Deckhand Eric to his bed and went to sleep in my cabin.
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