My father said, “I went home by train once. Everything was dirty from chocolate and snot. The kids just smeared everything. I sat on my suitcase in the hallway, and one young man offered me to go into his wagon because there was more room. When I approached the wagon, it smelled of pickled socks and feet. I passed on the offer and stayed in the hallway. Then I had to go to the toilet. When I opened the door… I saw a pile of poop, and the smell, ohhh. You couldn’t step or even see the pit latrine.”
I laughed.
My father continued, “I had to pee, and the pain was unbearable. I tried to open the train door, but it was impossible. There was no other option but to open the toilet door just a little bit so I could pee through it. People who passed by me… well, they looked at me strangely, and I can’t blame them.”
I laughed, tilted my head down, and covered my eyes with my left hand.
My father said, “On the next ship, a young helmsman died during cargo operations, and the Captain didn’t want to sign that he died on the ship, just to save the company some money.”
I asked, “How did he die?”
My He got pinched by an old defective crane. The crew protested and refused to work after the accident, demanding that the Captain sign off that the young helmsman had died. And guess what, he never signed anything. We all got replaced by another crew, and the ship left without us, like nothing had happened.”
I said, “I can’t believe what I just heard. At least nowadays we are more protected.”
My father chuckled and said, “I wouldn’t be so sure. I’ve seen so many accidents and deaths, a lot of them ended up as a cover-up. Even on shore, once I visited the local city with the radio officer, and we saw two people walking past each other. One just pulled a knife, stabbed the other one, and walked away like nothing happened.”
I asked, “What did you do?”
My father replied, “Nothing. We just decided it was best to run back to the ship before someone stabs us on the street or kills us on the stand when we testify.”
My father passed his right hand through his hair and asked me, “Did I ever tell you how I became a bosun?”
I replied, “No, I believe you haven’t.”
My father said, “I was on a general cargo ship, and there was some old lazy bosun who worked before on the dock repairing cargo nets. He only knew how to knot the mooring rope, and he never wanted to teach anyone. One day, I examined the rope and managed to backtrack the procedure, and I taught myself how to do it. The Chief Officer saw I was handy, and I quickly rose above others. I operated the cranes and the entire deck. One day, the Chief came to me and questioned me if I could replace the steel ropes on the crane. I was sure I could because I read all the ship’s schematics. I picked a few able men, and after we replaced three hundred meters of steel rope with ease and in a short time, the Chief was stunned. He immediately promoted me to bosun. I was the youngest bosun back then.”
I said, “I heard from everyone who knows you that you are the handiest man alive. There isn’t a problem you can’t fix.”
My father chuckled and said, “I remembered that crazy chick. After I became bosun, in the next port, we went out. In that country, there was a custom: if you got with a girl, there was no room to mess around. If you messed with another girl, she would bust your head open without breaking a sweat. The problem was some random chick glued to me like a tick. I never bought her anything, not even a drink. No matter what I said, she followed me around like a stalker, and all the other girls avoided me because, in their eyes, I already had a girlfriend. Man, she was frustrating. Once, I glanced at the bar at another girl, and she grabbed my hair and started pulling. I had to call the bartender to get her off.”
I laughed.
My father continued, “I escaped to another bar, and she followed me there and tried to strangle me with my chain necklace. I had to rip it off and escape. On the street, I met a few of my colleagues and told them to hold her. I escaped with one of them to a taxi, and we drove off further away and stopped for a drink. As we sat down, two of the girls from the bar tried to cuddle out a drink. I refused, but the other idiot ordered both drinks. When the waiter came with the bill, we were shocked. I demanded an explanation, and two huge bouncers emptied all our pockets and kicked us out. All the money I saved to buy my mother a winter coat was gone just like that.”
I said, “They can do that!?”
My father replied, “They had their prices on the menu. It was the idiot’s fault he didn’t read it. Luckily, I always have some paper money tucked in different places, and we had enough money to pay for the taxi to take us back to the ship. I never went out with that idiot again.”
My father coughed and said, “All this talk made my throat dry.” He drank a little bit of water and continued, “Later, a new Captain and waiter boarded the ship in the next port. The Captain locked the alcohol, and you could drink a little bit and pay for it. The waiter was a disaster. He kept tabs on who drank what during lunch and dinner in his notebook. In the evening, he would drink on other people’s accounts. In a short time, everyone rebelled. The Captain figured out this man drank and falsified the notebook. The Captain disembarked him immediately and forbade the selling of alcohol.”
I said, “Some people… incredible.”
My father replied, “On the bright side, every night, girls would sneak on the ship and sell juices and stuff. I even argued one time after midnight. She wanted to sell me a five-dollar juice. I asked her who she was, and she told me, ‘Whoever you want.’ I told her she could be the doorman and close the door; I just wanted to sleep.”
I laughed and asked, “What was the weather like over there?”
My father replied, “The weather over there during the day was always sunny. I saw a ship discharge wheat, and I asked the foreman what if it rains. He told me it hadn’t rained in thirty years.”
The minibus driver changed gears, and the transmission ground for a few seconds. The minibus driver mumbled, “Stupid clutch.”
One of the crew said, “Maybe he’s better off driving an automatic.”
My father said to me, “Once, I was on a fully automatic ship. It was only two years old when we took it over from another company, and you wouldn’t believe it—the ship looked like it had twenty years. They did no maintenance, no greasing, and everything was corroded. The steel wire cables on a crane were thin as a shoestring, and they cut through the rollers. I never saw anything like that before. We worked hard to get that ship operational.”
I said, “They always sent you to some derelict ships that need heavy work and restoration.”
My father replied, “But at least on this one, it paid off. We were at anchorage, and girls climbed the ship like pirates. They would put the bag around their neck and shoes in their mouth. They climbed better than half of the sailors I know. On board the ship, the Captain tried to fend them off, but they passed beside him, through his legs. If he managed to grab one of them, they would pinch or tickle him and get free. He was crazy, screaming as hard as he could.”
I laughed and asked, “How did they climb on board?”
My father replied, “Well, we lowered both pilot ladders, and the Captain ran from one side to the other. Then we lowered a small rope ladder on the stern used to read the draught. The Captain just chased the girls all over the ship and screamed. I never saw anyone hate women as much as he did.”
I asked, “Where did the girls hide?”
My father replied, “They would just enter random cabins and lock the door. The crew didn’t mind. The Captain shouted and banged on the doors, but to no avail. Finally, he gave up. The crew partied with the girls every day. Even after we berthed, the girls enjoyed our company day and night. Never met girls like that before. In the city, we had to walk in the middle of the street with girls watching our sides because there were a lot of thieves hidden in the alleys. In the end, when the ship was about to leave the port, we had to call port guards to liberate us from them. It was chaos—girls crying, holding us, ripping our shirts, some fighting guards. Those were the days.”
We arrived at the shipyard entrance, and the minibus driver said, “We are a little bit early. There is a café here. Go relax and wait for a call. Somebody will call you or come to pick you up.”
We entered the small café and squeezed around the tiny table—eight of us at a table meant for two. We ordered coffee and soft drinks. After that, everyone sat in silence, mostly eyeballing each other.
The waitress came with the bill and asked, “Who will pay?”
Everyone was silent. No one reached for their pockets. I looked at my father and he nodded at me. I reached for my wallet and paid the bill.
My father’s mobile phone rang and he answered, “Yes. Ok. We are coming.” He hung up and said, “We can board the ship. It is straight across the entrance, the only white ship.”
Everyone took their stuff and walked to the ship; my father and I stayed further behind.
My father said, “Did you see that, my son? You paid the bill while some of them can buy the entire café. Just cheap bastards and scum nobody wants. It seems the company was desperate to call them. That man on the right is an Ex-Chief Officer.”
I looked at a shady, slim figure with a ragged beard. His face was characterized by strong angular features and silver-gray hair.
My father said, “You will help me keep an eye on him. He is like a small baby; every button or lever he sees, he wants to test out what it does. He caused several major incidents and fatalities until no one wanted to hear from him.”
We walked through the barren shipyard with some workers looking for something through the debris and parts.
I said, “This looks more like a junkyard than a shipyard.”
My father replied, “It is inevitable. This shipyard will probably be closed soon. The owner is just skimming money for his cars and villas, while the workers are left without supervision.”
An intoxicated dock worker stopped in front of us and mumbled, “Who are you? You can’t be here.”
My father looked at him and said, “The supervisor is looking for you.”
The intoxicated dock worker looked around, almost collapsing. He mumbled, “I…I… must go…” You couldn’t figure out where he was headed since his body swayed from left to right while he moved away.
My father and I walked closer to the ship. You could notice the aerodynamic superstructure standing out at the front of the ship, while the deck behind was low, and the engine chimneys were on both sides at the stern. Someone yelled from the top of the ship near the gangway. It looked like a big figure with a military stance, yelling at our men who were boarding the ship.
I asked, “Is that the Captain?”
My father chuckled and said, “Yes. Don’t be intimidated by him. He yells a lot, but he is good-natured. He always wanted to go into the military and become a general or an admiral, but his father wouldn’t let him. His father owned a shipping agency and wanted him to take over. Sometimes, he would send him to fill in for a missing crew member. When his father passed away, the son, I mean the Captain, just closed the office. Since it was too late for the military, he continued serving on a ship.”
I said, “He is something like you. Your father also didn’t let you be a mariner.”
My father replied, “Yes. When I finished high school, I brought the papers to my father, threw them on the table, and said, ‘I finished the school you wanted; now I’m going on a ship.’”
I said, “With a proper school, you could’ve been a Captain or something.”
My father replied, “That is why I never forbade you to finish the school you wanted.”
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