Page 47 - Exile-ebook
P. 47

46  AN EXILE OF THE MIND    THE FLYING PRIEST OF CAMIGUIN                        47
































 One of the 7000 islands in the Philippines.  rays until  his wings  quivered and  Kong. And at last we cast off to leave
           folded  like  an umbrella  to  plunge  behind our troppo priests. And Nifty,
 the commander if he could see the  entrance to the port of Mambajao.   into the coconut trees below.  a small dark form amidst a gaggle of
 ship’s doctor.  We took a  sudden   Perhaps because of my surname   Inhabiting the small island were  white frocks. Their figures receding
 interest in our shoes as Steve gave  and  Patrick’s Irish name, the  Irish   four more priests. Three also Irish  as we left the shore and headed out
 a salacious  commentary about his  priest  offered  us  lodgings.  Silver-  and the fourth a New Zealander  to sea.
 Manila exploits and penile blisters.  haired and smiling benignly  above   from the Irish-sounding town of   Leaving Nifty behind was a huge
 We were relieved to learn that many  his cassock, dazzling bright under   Shannon.  They met  every Tuesday  relief. Temperament,  the dreaded
 of the ship’s crew had a similar  the tropical sun, the good father had   for afternoon tea. With  too much  disease  on any small vessel,  had
 predicament.  Percentagewise  my  a passion for flying. To dangle from   altar wine taken,  these  shindigs  raised  its  ugly  head  with  conflicts
 crew fared much better.  the harness of enormous yellow   usually  deteriorated  in a whirl  of  intensifying  until  a parting  of  the
 With the backside of our crew  wings  ─  a  hang  glider.  Climbing   fisticuffs.  Only  to  be  repeated  the  ways restored calm to the ship. Nifty
 member perforated with penicillin,  the  steep  sides  of  the  volcano we   following  Tuesday.  Ministering  to  had to wait several weeks for trans-
 we continued southwards past many  watched this strange cleric cast off   their flocks under a sweltering sun  portation off this remote ‘garden of
 deserted  islands  until  we  reached  into  space  with  a goggled red  face   for over 20 years these padres were  paradise’,  with its seven volcanoes
 the  small island of  Camiguin  off   uttering a prayer. His priestly ankle-  now fruitcake crazy, waiting to go to  and natural wonders. This little
 Mindanao. With our propeller shaft  length  cassock billowing white  in   heaven.   known island  was  later  to  become
 damaged,  we  navigated  under  sail  the  wind.  This  flying  angel  soared   Six weeks were spent on Camiguin  the most visited tourist haven in the
 through a ship-break of coral at the  heavenwards in a halo of the sun’s   to await propeller parts from Hong  Pearl of the Orient.
   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52