Page 226 - Michael Frost-Voyages to Maturity-23531.indd
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spend what was in fact a fairly modest stipend), excellent working conditions, a
                great deal of interesting travel, convivial company (and sometimes profoundly
                better than that) and could look forward to fairly rapid promotion. The latter,
                however, was significant; opportunities for getting ahead came up fairly rapidly
                because of mid and senior-officer wastage. It appeared obvious that the life of a
                Bon Vivant could become rather flat, especially when I could see that ‘home’ to
                many mariners that was at bottom somebody else’s home; one heard too often of
                domestic routine wherein the returning husbands didn’t even know where their
                offspring went to school. Fortunately, I had by pure chance met up with the most
                charmingly didactic companion.

                   Despite the depredations of Stevie, who was actually quite adept with wooing
                the objects of his desire, Judith and I engaged in many conversations about
                the future, especially mine! With wisdom seemingly beyond her years, though
                she was, as it were, ‘in the business’, she set about charting a course for me that
                included university (which I myself had now concluded had to be in my future)
                and the end of this mostly rewarding seven years at sea. It appeared that access
                to a university in Canada was a much more user-friendly process than it was in
                UK, as I knew from David that time was really not of much import to UCCA
                (University Central Council of Admissions), which tended to find candidates a
                position at a university suitable for it, rather than a position for which one might
                choose to apply. I decided that I was going to set the new course of my life as soon
                as I could, but not to bother with that awful Corporate Finance hurdle.

                   On the way across the Indian Ocean (the Shepherds disembarked in
                Colombo) and around Africa, I planned, as best I could, my route through the
                rest of my life. I read as many British papers as I could find (though they were
                almost entirely unavailable in South Africa, most English-language news media
                being  unavailable  because  of their  anti-apartheid  bias and the  South  African
                alternatives  being  journalistic  tripe),  with  a  view  to  seeing  what  alternative
                careers I could dig up in London, to where many people that I knew commuted
                daily from deepest Sussex.

                   Thus, as soon as I could (which was very soon, as the turn-around occupied
                only a few days) I made an appointment with the assistant marine superintendent
                for a discussion about any ideas that he might have. He, of course, was an ex-deck
                officer, so it might even be that something would come up within P&O itself.

                   Before my discussion with him I carefully perused the ‘Times’ and the ‘Daily
                Telegraph’ jobs and saw that there were a number of job opportunities that
                actually encompassed the sort of expertise for which an IPMA diploma might
                render me suitable. Thus armed, our discussion was general, but with one specific
                job at IBM as the focus of my future planned weltanschauung. Mr Jones, however,
                really senior to me by only one year, was dismissive and, I thought, unhelpful.


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