Page 179 - Michael Frost-Voyages to Maturity-23531.indd

The first real stop was Dar es Salaam, Tanzania’s capital. It was a natural
harbour, but the port was antique in its cargo facilities and transportation. The
first real African destination, its dilapidated effect was unfortunate, and the
necessary unloading accomplished, we departed without regrets. We then moved
north up the coast to Tanga, all the while having Droopy Drawers Cooke on
the bridge; it was a very low-lying coast, and deep-sea mariners loath an unseen
coastline that lay just over the horizon.

But the effect of Tanga was altogether more favourable. A large inlet with no
mooring facilities for securing to a quay or pier, we were obliged to anchor almost
within the shade of the jungle. Service to and from the ship was by barge, our ship
itself providing for shore-side transportation its lifeboats, a pleasant hourly duty
for the cadets. What is more, our task to oversee cargo handling was rendered
easy by the fact that we were anchored in the large bay; any attempt to broach
or steal cargo (though we had no alcohol nor much that was worth plundering)
was easily seen, and all those who worked on the ship had to leave by passing the
gangway watch. So life was pretty easy for the officers as well. And further, when
we arrived the B.I. agent came aboard and declared that while we were in port, we
were honorary members of the Yacht Club, a pleasant building close to the ship.
“But,” he said, “you won’t be able to pay; you will be presented with an account
when you leave … make sure that you write out what you have; there have been
occasions when extra digits are added to chits, and it’s too late to do anything
after the chief steward has paid the bills.”

Salsette

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