Page 89 - The Tigris Expedition

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The Tigris Expedition
together to form a sort of raised floor in the main cabin. This floor
was our common bed.
Tigris was ship-shape and ready to sail the moment the two huge
rudder oars were lashed astern, one on either side. A wooden
steering platform or ‘bridge’, three feet wide and three feet above
deck, followed the rear wall of the main cabin from side to side and
permitted the two helmsmen to see over the roof. The sail, how­
ever, would inevitably limit their vision. The oar shafts slanted to
the rear and were rotated on their axes by crosswise tillers near the
upper end to make the blade turn like a rudder. The shafts were held
by tight loops both at deck level and up on the railing of the bridge.

Tigris was ready to sail.
‘Let go the moorings! Hoist the sail!’
I was filled with relief and pleasure as I shouted the orders and
waved to the incredible new crowd of spectators that had once
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more gathered in the Garden of Eden. They must have come by
intuition. After our experience of the launching we had told nobody
of our intended departure, saying only that we would sail the
moment we were ready.
‘Hoist the sail!’ I shouted again, desperately. Seconds counted.
The moorings were gone and we were already moving as victim of
the current, but the sail that should have given us steering control
was still down. The only response to my cry were hundreds of
Arabs ashore shouting unintelligible words and pointing into the
air. I looked up, and there in the mast top, just where the yardarm
was to go, hung our dear Mexican friend Gherman, almost upside
down, with his inseparable movie camera perpetuating the great
moment. Round and jovial but incredibly agile he almost fell from
: the mast as I sent up to him an unintelligible roar which in decent
: language would read: ‘Please come down very, very fast, dear
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Gherman, and let us have room to hoist our sail, otherwise you may
be shaken down on the bank the moment we make one more crash
!
landing.’
In a second Gherman and the sail exchanged places. The current
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already had us in its grip, but the wind filled the sail and we took
I control of the situation. Norman was in charge of the sail, Detlef
was hidden somewhere in front of the forward cabin awaiting
orders to raise or lower the guara, our wooden centreboard, and
Carlo and I were on the bridge with one rudder oar each. It was
grand to see the banks of the Garden of Eden and the resthouse
i move away. It had been a great place, but it was high time to get into
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