Page 210 - The Tigris Expedition

We Gain Control of Tigris
have been nothing to see below me but black water, nor anything to
grab but the tall oarshaft which was never firm because I myself
turned it with the tiller I clung to. It constantly jammed, because it
was raised out of position, so with my lifeline around the slippery
shaft, I needed both hands to push or pull the tiller which I clung to
for support, whenever Carlo yelled for a fast turn of my oar.
At the time it was hard to see the comic aspects of this crazy
nocturnal rope dancing. A Sumerian would have depicted himself
as standing blind-folded on the back of a bouncing gazelle. But then
the lighthouse danced into sight as a bright spark in front of us.
Carlo shouted in triumph that he could see it on his side of the sail.
Soon it swung so far out on his side that even I could sec it from the
port side, which meant that by this time we had turned Tigris so far
away from the shore that all land was now on the starboard side.
Under ever more stars we could discern a lofty skyline of jagged
crests and pyramids that no longer seemed to come nearer. We were
winning. We made it without leeway.
From then on I forgot that I had any problem in keeping my
balance, I just concentrated on keeping the bright spark visible as
much as possible from the starboard side of the sail. What was left of
the two hours steering watch passed with the grand feeling of
galloping through a starlit sky on a winged Pegasus that willingly
let us decide the course. Then Gherman and HP came fumbling
their way up on the bridge to take over the unconventional steering.
We began to see ships’ lights everywhere. We ourselves were hardly
visible to others. Norman had improved this insecure situation by
digging out of his personal case a battery-driven flashlight that sent
out blips at intervals when he hung it up in the mast. In this wind the
cheap local fuel in our kerosene lamps produced more soot than
light. To us the masthead blips looked professional and to others
must have seemed more impressive than a faint lamp-glow, but
Dctlef assured us it meant nothing in nautical terms. For that very
reason he admitted it might serve as a confusing sort ofscarecrow to
any vessel coming too close.
A couple of fixed lights, as from houses ashore, suddenly turned
up very close to our starboard side, and the rotating beams from the
lighthouse were now clear and strong, circling the sky just ahead of
us. Detlef was in charge of navigation. Norman came down from
the mast, having tied glittering strips of tinfoil to stays and cabin
walls; these, as distinct from reeds, bamboo and wood, should
show up on radar. We were heading at full speed and with limited
control straight into the double lane of the world’s busiest shipping

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