Page 169 - Michael Frost-Voyages to Maturity-23531.indd

Aden had gone from bad to worse, and the British garrison had been substantially
reinforced (it was not like the British to recognise that their ‘best-by’ date was
upon them) to deal with the violent unrest, the ship was diverted to Djibouti, on
the tip of The Horn of Africa.

I knew nobody who had ever been to Djibouti; more cogently, I had never
met anybody who had the least desire to go there. This place was one mote of the
French Empire, ill-located, virtually without resources, and perpetually hot as
hell, its only real purposes lying in its strategic position, its value to Ethiopia as a
port (especially after Eritrea gained its independence), and as a place to bunker at
low cost. In this instance, the heat being well over 100 degrees, I saw no stampede
ashore from those on board.

However, as we had been diverted from Aden, we had a certain amount of
cargo to tranship. The larger part of this cargo was Martini & Rossi Vermouth from
Naples, unfortunately in two separate holds. As the gangs knew what they were to
be unloading, virtually every individual brought with him his cargo hook. These
wicked-looking instruments, designed primarily for lifting soft or flexible cargo
up and lifting it onto a pallet, were extremely efficient, when brought up sharply
under a box of any beverage (and they weren’t interested in Pepsi), in releasing
cascades of alcohol into small tin cups that by chance were stowed in their lungis.
Ostensibly in charge of cargo, we deck officers remonstrated with the supervisors
about this outright theft, but to no avail … the deck ran red with booze, but
there was naught that we could do (certainly pointing out Muslim disapproval
of alcohol was not going to win us any friends). Other cargo, including Vespas,
was treated in an equally cavalier way. We left in the late afternoon, quite sure
that others had enjoyed this cargo once it was ashore. A long Damage Report was
delivered to London for the insurers.

Another quick stop in Colombo (it cannot be said that familiarity was
breeding much love) was followed by short stops in the Malaysian ports, but it
was becoming apparent that the volume of cargo loaded was declining voyage
by voyage, perhaps partly because these ships had become too slow for shippers,
who lost more money the longer delivery of goods took. However, after the usual
interesting stop in Hong Kong, new adventures began for me.

Arrival in Yokohama was naturally something to which I had long been
looking forward and I was lucky to be able to exchange some time ashore with
the 3rd mate. I boarded a train bound for Tokyo (noting on the way the ‘Suntory,
Genuine Scotch Whisky’ factory) and was overwhelmed by the impressions. My
first feeling was of ‘too many people’; I was somewhat accustomed to London
crowds, but here there seemed to be so many more people, all very busy. The
lights were bright, the streets cleaner than I had ever seen elsewhere, and the
shops overloaded with goods, in particular music stores being full of DG LPs;

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