Page 12 - Exile-ebook
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12 AN EXILE OF THE MIND CASTING OFF WITH A BANG 13
Le Voyageur lowered into the water for the first time. The yacht had plenty of headroom and could sleep five crew.
seagulls skywards into the storm in a these young servicemen enjoyed our boat had to be untethered. This wild the wind’s breath in our sails. A fair
shrieking din. Reed-hatted fishermen harbour excursions on their days off. gesture was interpreted as a bad breeze to waft this precious ship
fell prostrate in their sampans hitched They scrubbed the decks, polished omen for the voyage ahead. over a calm turquoise sea. To sip the
cautiously to the shore. the brass and smuggled booze from Rain continued to dribble down French Consul’s gift of wine out of
Seventeen blasts echoed across the officers’ mess in return for a few the collars of the now rain-sodden the three-sided bottles and watch
the bay. A salute to send off generals hours of sailing. A welcome break gathering as they waved and shouted the sun plop into the ocean with a
and admirals in medal-jingling from monotonous soldiering in the their goodbyes. To stare dewy-eyed sigh. The Consul had earlier asked
tradition with four extra blasts Colony. Their snooty officers, not at this motley crew about to sally to join the voyage to Manila but his
reserved for royalty. Salutes have an invited, later glass-housed them for forth into a stomach-churning sea. wife pleaded with us not to make
odd number of bangs following naval misuse of cannonry. Perhaps thinking dark thoughts of her a widow so early in life.
tradition dating back to the 1600s. This resounding and unexpected rogue waves towering mast high to Most of the crew were strangers
An even number was considered tribute signalled our departure. I come crashing down on our heads. to open water, and their skipper a
unlucky, signalling the demise of a yelled directions for the mooring Hong Kong to Manila was an stranger to sailing. Not the ideal
captain or master gunner at sea. lines to be cast off, making frenzied eight-day sail with not an acre of weather to set out on our maiden
This spectacular performance cut-throat signs to friends on the sod in between to set foot on. For voyage. A sobering thought as the
was arranged by English bootnecks jetty. They stared open-mouthed in months we had looked forward to shoreline faded to a dark smudge
earlier befriended. Far from home alarm before realising the leaping skipping across the ocean to catch on the horizon. But then an ocean
