Page 184 - Michael Frost-Voyages to Maturity-23531.indd

association with the organisation. The last on this voyage, however, showed that
‘enjoyed’ could not always be an appropriate word. Famagusta was the principal
city on the East coast of Cyprus, and a resort for the international jet-set to
frequent. We berthed in the harbour but were immediately aware of the tense
political situation which was everywhere evident. In the 1950s the activities of
EOKA, a militant Greek-dominated independence movement, had been one of
the main international news items in the British press. Although the situation
was complex and always in flux, Greece had encouraged Greek-Cypriots to
eject the British and, as a by-product, get rid of the Turks (less than 10% of the
population). To put it mildly, this was unwise; Cyprus was geographically in the
armpit of Turkey, and Turkey possessed the second-largest army in NATO after
the USA. By the time we were there, the United Nations had sent Canadian and
Finnish troops to the city, and they were evident in their patrols around the walls
and streets of this ancient city. I took the opportunity to walk around, saw the
absolutely perfect beach (occupied, but I suspected by few tourists), noted armed
UN troops everywhere, and took pictures of some of the dramatic ruins. The
island, having a history going back to before 1,000 BC, is a veritable museum
of Mediterranean civilisations, the Phoenicians, Assyrians, Egyptians, Romans,
Greek, Byzantines, Genoese, French and British, to name but a sample, all having
governed or dominated this ancient land. I actually spent far more time looking
at the city (though I could not go outside the walls) than I did on the ship. And
the careful observer could reasonably guess that things would soon get worse
rather than better; after World War I, the Greeks having chosen the right side in
the nick of time, decided to invade western Turkey, rousing the ire of the recently
defeated Turks, who with the Allies then gave the weak Greek army a military
and diplomatic drubbing. This humiliation radicalised successive governments
in Athens, until the military took over and had, with their usual ineptitude, left
their country in precisely the economic and political state that they had sought
to avoid. We left Cyprus that evening; I would have enjoyed a delay of at least two
days in so fascinating a place.

Before arrival in London we visited the entirely uninteresting ports of
Sunderland and Hull. Before arriving there, however, I was told that I was to
leave Salsette, pending promotion to 3rd mate, and go on leave. Leave in London,
however, did not include any hanky-panky with Louise. She had written to advise
me that she was shortly to be married (to the fellow whom I had earlier met).
This struck me as ‘not unexpected’, as I had obliquely gathered from her that
her target had always been marriage. My view at that time was that most of such
individuals (for example, Margaret) were much too keen to tie the knot, indeed
any knot. Obviously, I had that idea in mind (eventually) for myself, but to me it
was a question a bit like going to Heaven; one wants to get there … but not quite
yet. (And I believe that the ‘expected’ occurred; some years later I received a two-
page letter in which she implied, but did not state, that she regretted her decision
to marry so precipitately. There was no return address.)

183