Читать книгу The Captain's Log - Hans Psy.D. Mateboer - Страница 4

After years of sailing on rusty old cargo ships to every imaginable destination in the world, I decided that enough was enough. My old company, proud and arrogantly resisting any change and looking down upon all those newer and more aggressive outfits from Liberia and Panama, had ceased to exist. For the last two years I had sailed for a variety of companies, some employing me as short as three weeks. The living conditions on board too were deteriorating by the day, as every company seemed to be struggling to make ends meet. I could not see myself going on like this, and a future at sea for a young guy like me seemed bleak.

During a period ashore, while studying for my master’s license, I met an old friend who worked for a cruise line. Compared to us freighter boys, he seemed to be a man of the world. A true dandy he was, and he talked about his life on cruise ships like it was paradise. One exotic port after another was mentioned, which to us, used to crummy old cargo piers, far away from any civilization, sounded like Utopia. To be honest, what most appealed to me, were his stories about a seemingly unlimited supply of beautiful women, apparently all single and all looking for a dashing man in uniform.

Frequently I found myself dreaming away during our lessons, seeing myself on board a cruise ship, surrounded by admiring girls while sipping some exotic drink.

“Do they need any officers?”

“Oh yea, they are expanding the fleet, and I think you should talk to them.” I made a decision then and there to give this a try. One could always return in case the stories were not true.

Two weeks later, I found myself talking to Mr. Trevor, a man in his early fifties, Director Human Resources for the Continental Cruise Line, a renowned company that, I later learned, was desperately trying to survive the transition to cruising, and one that had not been too successful in its attempts. Mr. Trevor, of course, did not mention this to me; instead he painted a rather rosy picture of the future, as apparently his company had taken over a competitor of many years. Being a gullible job applicant, I, of course did not realize that the takeover was more a bank-forced merger between two nearly bankrupt companies, and I believed Mr. Trevor. He even mentioned economies of scale, a term that nowadays has become very fashionable, and that I must have heard a million times ever since, but which at that time was a novel one, and bound to impress people.

“So you presently work on cargo ships. Which company, if I may ask?”

Mentioning the word cargo ships, I noticed that Mr. Trevor’s left cheek pulled back a little, much in the same way one often sees when somebody looks at tasteless food. I started to feel a little uncomfortable, as the interview seemed to be going the wrong way. Nothing I could do or say would improve the situation. When I mentioned the name of my present employer, Mr. Trevor made a face as if I had said a very dirty word

“Rather unacceptable, I would say.”

I heard him muttering, and while he made a few notes on a piece of paper, his left hand cupped his mouth, displaying utter disgust. He moved his chair a little away from me. My heart sank, realizing that I would not be hired, and that my dreams would remain dreams after all. Well, so what? I did not need this guy and his precious company. Until now, I had been able to make a perfectly good living without them. Before Mr. Trevor could say good-bye to me, already having taken his handkerchief out of his pocket, to wipe his hand after my handshake, the telephone on his desk rang.

“Trevor.”

It took a while before the person on the other side of the line stopped talking. During this conversation, which was totally onesided, Mr. Trevor only nodded every now and then, but each time he did so, his face fell, until finally it looked like an approaching tropical depression. It took a while before he was ready to say something, as apparently he had some trouble collecting his facilities. His Adam’s apple was bopping up and down as if he was trying to swallow a bite too big.

“What?” He’s quitting because his wife found out about a few little affairs! I don’t believe it. I keep telling them to be a little more discreet. Wives should not be allowed on board, I tell you!”

Mr. Trevor slammed down the telephone and looked at me with menacing eyes. For at least two minutes he did not speak. Then with a visible effort he managed a sour insincere smile.

“Well, maybe you came at the right moment after all. It seems we might have an opening for a second officer on the Manhattan, but you will have to be ready in two days to join her in New York.”

Driving home, the reality of what I had done suddenly hit me. I was going to sail on cruise ships, join a crowd I always had been all too negative about. My family, however, was ecstatic, for ulterior motives no doubt, as they did not show their enthusiasm until after I had explained the package of privileges I had received—privileges that included free cruises for immediate family members.

After two days of hurried good-byes, a shopping spree, and a transatlantic plane ride, I found myself in Southgate Tower, a hotel in central New York. There were four of us—two engineers, me, and the captain, all to join the ship the next day. The latter was a gray-haired gentleman smoking a pipe, reminding me more of my grandfather than of a man in command of a major cruise ship.

Early the next morning, a taxi brought us to the ship. For several minutes, I found myself standing on the dock, openmouthed and with butterflies in my stomach, looking at the giant ship berthed in front of me. She had just arrived, and her uniformed crew was busy tying her up and rigging gangways. The first thing I noticed was that she looked clean, unlike all my past ships. On her no rust showed at all, despite the fact that she had to be a good twenty years old.

An officer wearing a cap approached me and disdainfully asked me if I was the new second. Mutely I nodded, impressed, as never before had I seen such a white uniform, and certainly not with a matching cap. Oh yes, we did have uniforms on cargo ships too, used about once a year on special occasions, but for most of the time, they sat forgotten at the bottom of some suitcase. I was painfully aware that mine would not even remotely stand a comparison with what I saw in front of me, it having yellowed beyond hope during years of neglect.

In awe, and not a little confused, I followed him through a maze of corridors, an elevator, and corridors again. A panic slowly rose inside me; surely I would never be able to find my way around in this floating labyrinth. I saw hundreds of people, sitting in staircases, luggage scattered around them, waiting to leave the ship, I assumed. Wild thoughts flashed through my mind, I could still leave, just walk off and disappear, find a cargo ship and sail happily ever after. Just turn around and flee. Then I realized the utter futility of this, as I would never be able to find my way out alone. Discouraged, I followed the other guy.

After what seemed like an eternity, we arrived on the navigation bridge, where a bunch of officers, more than I had ever before seen together on one ship, were sitting around a table drinking coffee. They all looked at me, curiosity in their eyes. It was obvious that I had been the topic of their conversation right before I entered. A new guy, joining from another company was virtually unheard of in those days. Nowadays with the international cruise fleet growing at an enormous rate, it is common enough to hire from outside. Me, being one of the first, explained the reaction of Mr. Trevor too.

I was told to put my belongings in my cabin and report back to the bridge in full uniform right after lunch. Lunch, by the way, was served in the lido, I was told. A young apprentice, who effortlessly found his way around, showed me to my cabin, with which I was pleasantly surprised. A desk, a nice sofa, a double bed, toilet, and shower—everything was there, and compared to most cargo ships I had sailed on, it was very clean. I sat down on the bed, my panic slowly disappearing. If an apprentice could find his way around, surely I could too, even to a place the lido.

My battered suitcase appeared meager compared to the three steamer trunks and four big boxes standing in the corridor. They belonged to the guy who had just vacated my cabin, going home to make peace with his narrow-minded wife. While unpacking my uniform, I looked at it, tattered gold stripes, green with decay after being exposed to a thousand storms and rain showers. I felt a little awkward wearing it, and was not sure at all if I should wear the cap as well. I left it in my cabin. My search for the lido had started.

Forty minutes later, I sat down on a sofa, my hair wet with sweat, completely confused about my whereabouts. I recognized that sofa too; I had passed it at least three times.

“Where is the ‘Lido’ young man?” “Uh, what?”

A woman in her late sixties had stopped; she was dressed in a blouse with the top three buttons open and in a pair of shorts that I would have loved, had they been worn by a girl of my age. Her eyes went over me appraisingly and she repeated her question.

“I don’t know, was looking for it myself. I just joined the ship today.”

“Oh, very good. Let’s look for it together then. I’m hungry.”

The way she kept staring at me, made me a little uncomfortable, especially since I was not very sure what she meant. For a moment my discomfort even turned into slight alarm, when she took my hand and started pulling me out of the sofa, allowing me a generous look into the interior of her blouse. Then I heard footsteps behind me.

“Mother, where have you been, we were looking for you all over the ship. Peter is waiting in the lido.”

A beautiful girl, a few years younger than me, had come running down the staircase behind us. My mouth opened and closed again, unable to speak as I stared at her. She was exactly the girl I dreamt about, the type cruise ships were supposed to be filled with. My spirits lifted considerably, and I looked at her mother with different eyes.

“I met this nice young man. We were just on our way to the lido.”

Careful not to take the lead, I followed Amanda, as that was her name, to the lido, all the while talking to her and her mother as if I had been on cruise ships all my life.

“Maybe you can join us for lunch?”

Mother, who I later learned, carried the romantic name of Meg, asked. Thinking about the wonders that were in store for me during my first trip on a cruise ship, I happily agreed. And what a cruise it could be, if only I could cultivate my relationship with Amanda and Meg a little more. All the unbelievable stories about women on board cruise ships seemed to be true after all.

At the lido we met a guy who, to my intense relief, was only the brother of Amanda, and not some “lowlife” of a boyfriend. He was as friendly as could be, and both Amanda and Peter seemed to adore Meg, who to me was very nice. She patted my knee repeatedly and moved a little closer each time, until I started regretting that I took a sofa to sit down on and not a single chair at the other side of the table. Of course I pretended not to notice.

We chatted as if we had known each other forever, and Amanda told me she had broken up with her boyfriend a few months before— an act I secretly applauded. She was not looking for somebody else yet she said, looking me straight in the eyes. I couldn’t believe my good luck, and leaned over the table towards her, while Meg leaned over to me. A little annoying of course, but once at sea, she would realize it was her daughter I was after, and not her.

I did not see the chief officer coming until he stood in front of our table. His face showed complete surprise seeing me with this beautiful girl, obviously having a good time. In utter amazement he exclaimed; “I thought you were told to report to the bridge after lunch! Instead I find you chasing girls. You’re fast, I give you that, but it’s hardly a good start, being on board only a few hours and already out of line.”

I was dumbfounded, what had I done wrong? I looked at my watch and with horror saw that it was 3:00 p.m. already, long past the reporting time. A feeling of doom came over me and I started to get up, but the chief had left already. This didn’t look good, my first day on the job and reprimanded already. At least, looking at Amanda, chances were good that it would be worth it. Getting up and looking at them, I managed a smile. Meg grabbed my arm.

“I will see you during the cruise, I hope. Maybe you can visit my cabin some time soon.” She said.

I immediately agreed. The prospect of visiting Amanda, at least made the idea of having to face the chief officer bearable.

“All right, but I have to go now, otherwise I’m in trouble. What’s your cabin number?”

“Cabin 371.”

Amanda and Peter also got up; both hugged Meg and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Hope you have a terrific cruise, Ma. We have to go. They just announced visitors ashore.”

“What, you are not coming on this cruise?”

My voice was shrill with consternation. What was this? Had they only brought their mother to the ship only? I had thought ….

“Oh, we are so happy that we met you. First we thought Mother would be lonely, but now you can keep her company.”

Amanda and Peter vigorously shook my hand, expressing their gratitude. Amanda even went as far as giving me a kiss and hugging me. She looked at me strangely, as I suddenly must have seemed lukewarm; all my enthusiasm had drained away. Not very successfully trying to smile, I promised them their mother would not be alone.

On the navigation bridge, the chief officer hardly acknowledged my presence, and instead loudly announced his opinion about me to the captain. The grandfather figure of yesterday had turned into a man with penetrating gray eyes, which seemed to bore straight through me. Both snorted and turned their backs on me.