Page 82 - The Tigris Expedition

Problems Begin

one the crowd also melted away as evening approached and drizzle
began to fall. Worst of all, the Aymara Indians had left for South
America the previous day, because their excursion-rate return
tickets to Bolivia would otherwise expire. Without them it would
be a major problem to repair the ship if ropes and bundles had been
damaged. But until we had access to the broad twin bottom we
could have no idea of the extent of the damage caused by broken
ends of timber and steel. As night came on an incredibly chill wind
began to sweep the landscape. We had to run into the resthouse for
more clothing. The black night sky was split by spectacular streaks
of lightning.
We took turns at using the few shovels available, and the British
cameramen stretched cables to the resthouse roof terrace to beam
light from their lamps in our direction. David, a young Jewish
assistant in the group, confided to me his last night’s dream: he had
seen a whole herd of sheep come on board and devour our reed-ship
in revenge for their sacrificed relatives. Gatae and the Marsh Arabs
also had their comment: six sheep was not enough for such a big
vessel, we should have sacrificed a bull.
These pessimistic observations were hardly uttered before the
rumble and strong headlights of a huge Russian truck made us drop
the shovels. The unexpected visitor bumped in through the gate
over broken timber and twisted rails and took up a position as if to
push us all into the river. Two husky Russian drivers jumped out
and, with Yuri as interpreter, we explained that though we needed a
push, our ship was as brittle as crispbread until in contact with the
water. They then helped us rig up thick reed fenders extended in
front of their tall engine housing on wooden beams taken from the
abandoned scaffold, thus saving the heavy truck from being
launched with the ship. Suddenly in the dark the informal and most
unconventional launching began with a steady thrust from the
truck. The vessel moved and sank slowly into a porridge of thick
mud where we had dug. As mud and broken timber floated away
with the current we held the ship on tight ropes and made her fast to
a floating reed-bundle mole we had prepared beside the resthouse
terrace. In the light from the truck’s headlamps we had seen the
twisted sledge and rails all following the vessel into the river. The
Russians saluted and left. We had to wait for daylight to judge the
damage. Tigris did not seem to float with a perfectly even waterline
all around. It seemed to tilt slightly towards the port side bow.
As daylight broke we were all on the spot. Our new ship looked
magnificent. Bigger and stronger than any of the two Ras, she rode
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