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Published: April 4th 2008
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Day 3 - Thursday, April 3 2008
The rocket launcher has to wait for another day. Not even a cutlass to be had. So much for anti-piracy measures. All we have is a lock-down - all external doors and hatchways to be barred and shuttered, double watch at cardinal points, and no promenading on the foredeck. In Nelson’s day, we’d have had carronades primed and ready, and the fuses lit for an instant whiff of grapeshot to deter any would-be challenger. Instead we adopt ‘le surete passif’ - if I understood correctly. Put in management speak, we’re reactive rather than proactive.
So, it seems the day’s role play practice was wasted. The drill was simple. I would spend most of the morning lying in bed, pretending to be asleep. Linda would be stationed on deck and then burst through the porthole in full pirate rig to demand access to my valuables. We would then engage in hand-to-hand combat with the winner claiming the last can of Tsingtao in the cabin fridge. As the ship’s stores only reopen tomorrow, I thought this could be a very realistic scenario. If you can beat Linda to the last can of beer, you’re more than a match for Malacca Straits pirates.
The piracy threat is still a couple of days off - surprisingly enough, not so much at the entry to the Straits but closer to Singapore when the lock-down will apply. Still, fore-warned is fore-armed. Today’s exercises have been useful, but when the fridge gets refilled in the morning I don’t think the practice drills will have quite the same sense of realism.
Other than pirate let-downs, the day has been relatively uneventful. The sun shines down, the sea is blue, and the food and wine just keep coming. Marian - chief steward and maitre d’salon - seems to have adopted us as a personal challenge. Second helpings? Encore bouteille de vin? Pouchette de chien for later when vous get ‘ungry in le cabin?
(That’s Franglais for doggy-bag, and I must admit I do have a bowl of left-over strawberries and cream in the fridge, just in case.)
Marian is Rumanian (and no, he’s not a maid and is totally unacquainted with the forest of Nottingham, not even Nottingham County - far less Brian Clough. I’ll have to ask him about Steau Bucharest, though). Linda suspects that Robin would be more to his taste, but as far as I’m concerned he’s the Frere Tuck of the Tosca, and as tuck goes you couldn’t ask for better - or more.
In between meals, we waddle (increasingly) between decks and around decks. The swimming pool is now operational, but I well remember my mother warning me of the perils of swimming on a full stomach. ‘You’ll get cramp and drown,’ she would say in doom-laden tones. That was in Gaelic, of course, but the meaning was the same.
She’d also mutter something on the lines of ‘Maybe you should, and there’d be more on the table for the rest of us.’
I didn’t pay much attention back then as a child, plunging into the sea or the river at the soonest opportunity, but now in my grey-beard years I see the wisdom of her maternal words. There are no medics on board, so it would be very selfish of me to risk the climb down to B Deck and then face the possibility of a stomach-cramp attack, forced change of course, emergency medical evacuation, and ensuing delays in delivery of vitally-needed cargo. The cost to the shipping line would be horrendous. Not to mention the impact on an already-beleaguered global economy. When you think of it like that, it’s just a small sacrifice for me to forgo the pool and retire to my bed after meals, ready for another bout of anti-piracy practice with Linda. You always have to keep an eye on priorities.
That said, we did venture for a wee stroll on deck before turning in. The wind had freshened considerably - blowing about 20 knots on the port quarter. That’s coming towards the left side of our blunt end, for the landlubbers among you. It helps us along a wee bit as we near the southern bits of India. There’s a lot of north-bound traffic, and not only ships. Pre-bedtime observations were interrupted by a brief squall from on-shore, lashing rain and a chill wind that was not an unwelcome offset to the prevailing equatorial temperatures. Lasted about 15 minutes, but the skies are still black and starless.
We’ll round Sri Lanka mid-morning and then slow down for the eastward passage through the Malaysian archipelago. So far, it’s been full steam ahead with no course deviation. Now the route gets more intricate. More exploration in store tomorrow - tour of the cargo deck and forepeak. Hard hats and safety boots required. I’ve reminded Linda to be sure to ask if she can see the ‘Rivette d’Or’. Heh, heh. That will raise a laugh. Every old salt knows it’s not in the forepeak. It’s in the stern!
Noon position 11◦27.9 N - 073◦16.9 E
Day’s run to noon - 565 miles
1,473 miles out from Khor Fakkan
Heading 134.1◦
Local time GMT+6
Average speed - 24.6 knots
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Tot: 0.115s; Tpl: 0.017s; cc: 8; qc: 42; dbt: 0.082s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb