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with ship’s derricks, was noisome, smelly and, to me, cruel, as the creatures could
move only to stand or lie down. In all, 450 of them were loaded, and about 420 of
them immediately needed to poop.

But this was not all; once finished with our porcine guests, 150 water buffalo
appeared. I know practically nothing of water buffalo (having lived partly in the
country for a few years, I knew something of cows, one thing being that they were
not always as docile as reputed, but these animals looked bulkier and had very big
horns). Needless to say, they also needed to immediately answer the calls of nature.

The mate then came to our cabin and explained that this cargo was some sort
of P&O tradition unique to this route, and that the animals were destined for the
abattoirs in Hong Kong, which was the next port and four days’ sailing away (if,
of course, the engine was up to it). The ‘tradition’ seemed to imply that the trade
was not strictly authorised by head office (though the company’s other vessels
on this route carried the same cargo) and that we were doing our local shipping
agents a bit of a favour. But for this task we were likely to receive some extra funds
to use in the fleshpots of Hong Kong. However, that benefit we had to earn; the
deck crew, being Hindu and Moslem, was unable to minister to the needs of the
pigs and, therefore, we cadets were charged with feeding, watering and keeping
the animals reasonably clean. The saving grace was that the crew was to assist in
the care of the buffalo and did not mind their feeding and watering. In fact, it
seemed to me that they rather liked it, and unquestionably, it was a change for the
better from the usual painting, scraping and maintaining wires and cargo gear.
Loading was completed in the afternoon and off we sailed. Bangkok, however,
was one of those ports whose exit provided considerable practical navigational
difficulties; there are ports wherein a pilot is absolutely essential and this was one
such. Likewise, of course, there are others where they simply come aboard to get
their bottle of scotch. (Fundamentally, the captain was always in charge, but I was
seeing well enough that it was necessary to very carefully observe what the pilots
did well before one became a captain.)

The next day was a heavy one. The pigs had to be sprayed (it was, of course,
exceedingly hot), given fresh water and, in effect, cleaned. We had also been
provided with food for them, but distributing the swill was not an enjoyable task;
they had to subsist on a bowl of water and another of bran per day, and actually
getting among the cages and giving them the necessaries was a distinctly odious
task. But by the third day, the nature of the job had changed; by then five of the
pigs had died, and throwing the bodies overboard was far from pleasant, for they
all seem to have died from some parasite eating them from inside, and carrying

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