Page 289 - The Tigris Expedition

The Tigris Expedition
No one stared, not even the animals, when we came close enough
to see goats and dogs pattering along in the long-legged company.
We from our deck absorbed all these strange surroundings as we
struggled to save our ship and all our possessions. None of us failed
to realise that this was the most appropriate setting we could have
i found for the arrival of a reed-ship. Although everything seemed
staged for us, we were simply reliving history.
The village must be somewhere behind the sands to the right,
where the smaller groups hurried with firewood and bundles. On
this side of the dunes, facing our bay, were only some tiny huts of
mud and mats tucked away under the few palms at the dragon’s tail.
The canoes, too, were on the beach on that side. But we could make
- out the tower of a little mosque behind the dunes. It was Friday, and
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it seemed that Muslims from the desert were returning to the
» wilderness from a visit to the town. The others, with firewood,
5 were coming home before the sun set, for it was already low in the
t* western sky.
I Much to our surprise, a large flock of pink flamingoes circled
1 above us in plough formation, their necks and legs extended as if

shot from a bow. Then came the thunder and the rain. No doubt a
! real storm was raging out in the open sea; Ras Ormara clearly gave
us some protection. The men in the dinghy were not back. The
silence among us on board Tigris was emphasised by the rhythmic
\
droning of the surf and the occasional clatter in the thunderclouds.
S3 Toru was quietly frying dolphin and onions in the open galley. HP
was measuring the depth with his own lifeline. He reported two
metres. I double-checked and got 2.20 metres. This would leave us
half a metre clearance in calm water. But the water was anything
v.'
but calm. For a while the surf had been rising and breakers now
began to fumble into vertical walls around us and throw themselves
with force against the sickle-shaped ship. With the anchor-ropes
lashed to the bow, the stern was turned to the land and the purpose
of the elegant sickle shape became clear again. The ma-gur was not
designed as a river boat. The curve was there to help it ride a stormy
sea and let the ship lift its tall neck or tail over the surf like a swan in
choppy water. The broad, raised chest of Tigris leapt up, split the
surf, and as it came down again sent spray to either side, in fact
wetting the deck less than the rain.
Carlo grabbed one of the oak oars and an axe, and with Detlef s I
help began to ram the oar into the bottom beside the bundles. The
sand gave no hold; the oar yielded and came out. The sun was i
getting low, and there were no more people on the beach. Now the
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