Page 25 - Exile-ebook

24 AN EXILE OF THE MIND CASTING OFF WITH A BANG 25

port I realised my hastily proffered
note had three zeros instead of two,
the equivalent of three months pay
for a fisherman. In the excitement the
extra zero was not noticed.
Owning an ocean-going yacht
had its upside. It was easier to get
an invitation to the Queen’s garden
party than infiltrate the prestigious
circles of the Colonial elite.
A shiny new yacht opened tightly-
closed doors. Especially those by
people who couldn’t afford one and
fancied a jaunt on the harbour. A
glass of bubbly in one hand and with
the other a royal wave to their envious
friends ashore. “I say, would you
mind awfully, swinging closer to the
Yacht Club so I can wave my hanky at
her Ladyship, green with envy.”
I missed the six-week navigation
course, which I blamed entirely
on the social life. With the course
cram-packed into one week, and
a plastic sextant, I prepared for
our departure before the onset of
Hong Kong has the highest population density in the world. miraculously revived, leapt about dreaded typhoons. Quite rightly,

the deck to hail a passing junk. Nicole and Marcel baulked at the
intention to cross a fickle ocean. so did the rocky shoreline. Steering “Do you have any money on you?” prospect of entrusting their lives to
My suspicions were aroused later under small sail, I needed all the he babbled. A banknote was quickly a non-swimmer and a skipper with
when he accompanied us on Le help I could get. Where was Nigel? snatched from my grasp and waved limited seamanship. It didn’t take
Voyageur’s sea trial. A storm caused He was found below deck, under in the torchlight at the fishing junk. A much for them to decide to give the
the engine to throw a tantrum and it a cushion wailing he was going to line was quickly thrown from the junk voyage a miss. They flew to Australia
refused to start. As night closed in, drown. The storm abated and Nigel, when money was spotted. Towed into to stay with my sister.