Ship

University years meant constant boat travels which I thoroughly enjoy.  I like the peace and quiet of the vast ocean and the full view of the night sky.  I like the ripple of the waves and the foam it makes as the boat parts the water.  But I also like the foam beer makes when you open a bottle.  And when the ship starts sailing, the beer starts flowing!

I travel light, but I always bump into somebody with lots of luggage and grandmother says it’s a sin if i don’t help.  So I end up carrying load that belongs to somebody else.  I usually travel with friends and we always arrive on time, which means just a few minutes before the boat leaves, and we haven’t been late before.  But sometimes we have to literally catch the boat by jumping on it as it moves away from the port, especially with the kind that docks on the portside.  It has to move away to starboard, and as it turns, the stern eventually gets close to the pier and that’s when we jump in.  I remember one passenger doing the same.  But he has a pig for cargo.  He jumped in first, then let his companion throw the pig hoping to catch it himself. But the throw fell short as the boat moved away, so the poor pig plummets to sea!

In those days, there was a shortage of boats plying the route, so ships are overcrowded and ticket prices double at the black market.  But tickets without sleeping beds are issued and are called COB or cot-on-board, which is ironic because there is no cot reserved for you.  But these are times when we travel with beer in our bellies.  And we will be too intoxicated to bother with soft mattresses and fresh linen.  Newspapers become more important as sleeping paraphernalia than reading material.  And we would sleep on the hard floor covered only with newspapers on narrow walkways with our bags used as pillow.  The other passengers would pass between our bodies sprawled on the floor careful not to step on anyone.  That’s when cot-on-board makes sense, any flat hard surface or board makes for a cot or a bed!  However, there are also alternative sleeping quarters located on top of the boat where the life rafts are.  But they are usually filled up with fellow COBs.

On those rare occasions when we have a ticket with a bed, another passenger pretends to be asleep on your bunk, and no matter what you do, he wouldn’t wake up.  And I have to call a boat crew to shovel him out of the bed.  Or sometimes another passenger comes out with a ticket with the same cot number.  I usually give up the bed because we would be drinking anyway.  And when you’re drunk, any flat surface is a bed.

Switching bunks is also very common.  Those who travel in a group usually end up with bunk assignments scattered all over the ship.  So they negotiate for changes with the passengers.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, especially when you’re comfy sharing a twin bunkie with a cutie because this is also the best time for romance.  As the boat is crowded with students like us, it’s easy to find one.  Sometimes a stare and smile will do.  But usually you start with hello, or a bump and apology then a smile.  If she smiles back you’re in, and the rest is up to you.  But a twin bunk is the best because there is plenty of room for interaction even with no words at all.  A wayward hand there, a finger touching elbow or a knee brushing away her bag.  But the best of the best is sleeping time when you simultaneously turn facing each other.  That’s simply heaven on earth!  And you create your own universe.

Some passengers are tricky, or maybe just for fun, they ride without tickets.  So on check up time, they hide on corners or near the exhaust where it’s dark, or be squeezed tight in little spaces for cover.  This happens all the time when the purser and his crew check the tickets, which inconveniently happens a few hours after departure when the majority is fast asleep.  Those who are caught scratch their heads.  They buy the ticket and get a warning.  But those who aren’t, slowly emerge with a foolish grin.  And they would whisper about how lucky they are not to get caught, and brag about the number of times they have done it, and situations when they are almost caught, but didn’t.  The passengers devour these stories, thrilled with the adventure that are sometimes mistaken for courage.

At times we will be awakened in the middle of the night by screeching sound and howling wind, and flapping tarpaulin that used to cover the ships huge open windows.  There will be rolling luggage as the ship alternately leans over starboard, rights itself, then leans over at portside.  It’s a bit scary especially when we get engine stop.  It’s not the engine break you use when the car’s breaks broke.  It simply means engine trouble in the middle of the ocean.  The ship’s engine dies and we are at the mercy of the waves and ocean currents.  At first we were a bit concerned, but as it happened many times in many voyages, and we arrived safely anyway, such engine trouble doesn’t bother me at all.

We usually arrive at dawn when the morning air feels cold on your face.  And the time when the sky changes from dull gray to pastel colors of blue and orange, and you see flocks of birds on the horizon.  And we will have coffee at the makeshift coffee shops along the pier.  They are just tables and chairs scattered on the edges of the gates.  And sometimes when the guards are not strict, they are allowed to serve dawn snacks right in front of the boat.

Sometimes when the boat is late in arriving, which usually happens when we get an engine trouble in the middle of the night and in the middle of the ocean, we will have free breakfast which is either rice with egg and chorizo or rice with a slice of beef loaf or two spoons of corned beef.  But I prefer the serving of rice with sardines and a hard boiled egg.  But it’s not so bad because at daylight we will see schools of fish arching above the surface and when we’re lucky, we see dolphins swim by the boat.

The one I like is free coffee very early morning, the time when I usually wake up, and when we’re almost in our destination.  A crew brings around an oversized kettle filled with brown coffee already mixed and ready for drinking and he gives one cup to each awake passenger.  And we will know we’re nearing dry land when we see fisherman’s boats.  They are usually out fishing very early in the morning and they wave and howl to greet us.

At the pier, boat people dive for coins.  You look down below, and they look up at you and nod.  Then you throw the coin and they dive for it.  It’s fascinating to see agile swimmers fight for a coin that slowly sinks like falling paper in air.  These divers make their own flippers with rounded plywood fastened with black rubber strips.  They usually use just one flipper.  Those who have no boats tread the water the whole time, and they keep the coins in their mouths by biting on them.  You can tell who got more by the bulge on their cheeks.

At the time, sea transport also means long distance communication.  Telephone is scarce; cellular phones, a thing of the future, and ATM is unheard of.  What we have are telegrams and old fashioned letters.  The telegrams are paid per word.  So it’s always brief and most often just contain “Please send money now”.  The telegram will come out like this:

“Dear stop Mama stop Please stop Send stop Money stop Now stop”

On the other hand, the letter is hand carried by a boat crew which you either befriend or paid, or by somebody from your town, or a trader who knows your mother.  The letters on our end will always contain requests for money and pleas for any additional amount.  This important sentence ends with PLEASE.  In response, the letters from the folks back home will have money in them, and tons of advices.  And yes sometimes we do get that extra money.  But only sometimes.  And as often as leap year.