Page 188 - The Tigris Expedition

CHAPTER 6

We Gain Control of Tigris

We unfolded our good sail in the mythical waters of Dilmun and
felt as if we had opened wings and taken off with the freedom of the
air. The bow was once more as solid as a bird’s breast, with every
feather in place. The sail was perfectly set to catch the wind and gave
us an uplift we could feel, a thrilling sensation known only to the
winged species, gliders and sailsportsmen. The days of being towed
had been like bumping in a truck off the road on punctured tyres.
Now we barely seemed to touch the soft waves, ready for take-off
in the manner of the moon-ship we had seen lifting from the sea
Sumerian style.
This was exciting. Real fun. Norman ignored his fever and
beamed with joy. We stood with a tiller each on either side of the
steering platform, twisting the long slanting logs that ended in oar
blades, and confirmed with satisfaction that for the moment our
vessel responded marvellously to our manoeuvres.
We were eleven men as free as man can be. Free as the seagulls
that accompanied us. Neither they nor we had any preconceived
itinerary. Nobody expected us anywhere. We had no fixed port of
call, no cargo to deliver. Free, except for one little snag. Unlike the
seagulls, who know no boundaries, our freedom ended where land
began. We had to get out of this gulf to secure the unrestricted
freedom of the boundless ocean. But the outlet of the gulf was a
needle’s eye. Would we be able to hit it?
The winter wind had long since returned to its normal course and
blew in full force from the north. A perfect wind to sail a reed-ship
from Iraq to Bahrain. But after Bahrain the whole gulf curves at a
right angle and we had to steer west-north-west to hit the needle’s
eye, out into the open ocean. We could hardly expect a following
wind to turn with us up to the outlet of the gulf. Today, as in

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