Page 266 - The Tigris Expedition

to Pakistan
Tigris and the Superships: the Voyage
close that for a few seconds all seemed part of o
of the dark so black wall. Only for a
unit: the two bamboo cabins and the had a clear idea of
moment; then it was torn away again before we
on as our bundle-boat
what we had seen, just time enough to hang
was tossed aside by foaming cascades.
Those of us who had managed to crawl out on deck fast enough
had barely had time to exchange exclamations of horror and relief,
when a new yell came from Yuri on the bridge aft:
‘Crazy! Another one!’ Yuri’s voice was drowned by the
thundering pistons of a second steel wall following the first and
racing into vision right alongside Tigris, sending us sidelong
again with its wake, as if ploughing us casually out of its
way.
‘That was a container ship,’ commented Detlef dryly. ‘They
often make thirty knots.’
We all remained on deck for a while, commenting on the poor
visibility without moon or stars. The weather did not look promis­
ing. We decided to take down the new topsail. It began to drizzle. It
was soon time for Toru and me to take over the steering. Hesitantly
the others crawled back into the two airy bamboo huts and rolled
down the canvas sheltering the cane walls. It began to rain heavily.
Soon the cold shower became a cloudburst. We could see nothing,
not even our own rig. Toru and I had donned waterproof suits,
good for rain and spray, but not for skin-diving. The water fell in
torrents and the noise smothered our voices. We were drenched
from neck to toe in the cold rain that percolated our waterproof
gear, and were standing in shoes filled like flowerpots. It was almost
comic - but not quite. I could barely distinguish Toru’s Japanese
features if I aimed the beam of my flashlight at him, although he was
standing almost within reach on the other side of the narrow
steering-bridge.
Now I could hear something. I shone the light into Toru’s face to
see his expression. He nodded back as he began to hear it too.
Pistons. In the rumbling cloud-burst we could scarcely hear our
own voices, but the deep rhythmic thump from some approaching
supership could not be mistaken, and it came fast. Carlo, supposed
to be asleep inside the main cabin, could already hear what we had
heard through the thin wall of cane and canvas, and he shouted out
to the two of us on the bridge. We were not less uncomfortable than
he, but we alone could take action. What should we do? We were
indeed masters of the rudder-oars and could turn left or right. But
which side would take us out of trouble? Whichever way we turned

225