Spring '65--Strange Lights At Sea
That first morning out i awoke early. When i stood i realized the ship's roll had become deeper and more pronounced. Mickey was seasick and declined breakfast. Outside i saw the crew moving about without any problem. While deep, the swells were steady, giving me a chance to adjust to their rhythms. Breakfast was simple, but hearty. After all, the ship was Yugoslavian, and had a communal ambiance. Then i took a long walk around the decks. Lashed cargo made the main deck an obstacle course, but one could work one's way to the bow and stand in the wind, in the manner made famous by Leonardo DiCaprio 30 years later.
The rear was much roomier, if cluttered, but the passenger's deck and bridge deck were free and open, affording a fine view of the ocean around us. As Katherine Hepburn would say, the ship was yaw. It sat well in the water and had the lines of a greyhound.
By the time i returned to my cabin for a bit of reading time, i was beginning to find my sea legs.
After lunch, a good number of passengers were up on deck, enjoying the fair weather. A few were sunbathing, the blond was walking her Dane, others just paced. i continued to explore the ship then went up for some meditation in the sun.
Life on the freighter was pretty cushy. Breakfast, lunch, tea-time, and dinner, then drinks in the lounge. First and second class cabins had private bathrooms and showers, third class had communal facilities. As long as the weather held out, we were on the Queen Mary of the Underground.
Thankfully the skies remained clear as we plowed through the swelling ocean. On the first day out we sighted many vessels on the busy shipping lanes but later they became fewer, amplifying the sense of being alone, on a tiny boat, in the middle of a vast sea.
The older dude at my assigned dining table, professed disapproval of the ideas being thrown around( his new wife was much younger) and took to his cabin after meals. Following an after-dinner stroll on deck, i smoked a j and headed for the lounge with a few of my sides. The place was full. The two Cuban dudes Peter and Edwardo, were on hand, as was a California girl and a lady from New Zealand. there was also a cat from UCLA, Los Angeles, named Roger, with a Fu Manchu moustache and a big panama hat. He was heavyset, traveling with his wife Beth. Both were poets and were keeping a journal on the passengers. Roger wore Top-Sider sneakers. In fact the ship was full of new sneakers, well-known as being functional footwear on deck. This was in the pre-Nike era when your choices were limited to Converse basketball or Keds tennis.
So there we all were. i began talking to Danny, the intense dude i had spotted the night we pulled out, and a Moroccan cat name Yarmi. We discussed being and nothingness as Miles blew, and then the tall Blond with the Dane came in an played an Astrud Gilberto album. Her name was Lisa, and she was Yugoslavian. Soon the Cuban dudes were sitting around, listening to my Fania All-Stars Album, and a real sense of camaraderie began developing-- shared information, shared essentials, shared music...it was happening right there on board, as it was happening everywhere at the moment.
The crew was also friendly ( although it was reported that some had been caught peeping into portholes) and on the fourth night out, there was a ship's party, with the crew providing entertainment. Peter and Edwardo were there, as was Yarmi, my roommate Mickey, a lady from the mid west named Sue, another named Bonnie, a very athletic California girl named Sara, Danny, Lisa and an older couple who were hauling their vintage Bentley on the freighter. She was a well-kept American blond of perhaps 40, a Barbara Hutton type, and he a flamboyant European who wore tailored jump suits with matching cap, a la late period Nureyev. He drank excessively, she smiled seductively. At some point i was invited to their cabin for a nightcap. It was clear what was up but i passed, citing an aversion to alcohol. An innocent abroad. Anyway the party was a lot of fun with the crew dressing in women's clothes and doing a song and dance act. It started with all the passengers sitting in a circle and doing something foolish, to break the tension. i had my reservations at first, since this was in celebration of May 1, but the party did much to dispel the barriers between crew and passengers. Afterwards there was dancing and i noticed a bit of pairing off. Edwardo was trying to get it on with Sara with little success. Sara was flirting with me but in deference to my new pal i remained neutral. Sooner or later Lisa and i were due to get together...During my nightly strolls around the deck i did notice that the crew was sending blinking light signals to unseen vessels ( submarines ?). Once in a while one could see blinking lights in the distance. One of my diary entries reads: "The Boat Is Full Of Spies (a) my roommate is one (b) most of the crew is involved in some sort of spying ". Fanciful yes, but as it happened there was a serious political activist aboard. Like most Americans i was naive about politics outside of the USA and Vietnam. The events simmering in Africa and the Middle East were on my mental back burner. However my Moroccan pal Yarmi was very well informed and had a number of parlor games that involved the names of political leaders around the globe. i quickly realized the games were a teaching device. Still, Yarmi kept his beliefs to himself for the time being. Later things became more sinister.
The first party was such a success, there was a second. This time i danced with Lisa...By day five or six, life aboard the Tuhobic had settled into a mellow routine. Brisk deck walks after breakfast, reading and writing time, gossip with my amiable roommate who was enjoying things immensely, late morning exercises on deck, lunch, sunbathing, clambering over the poles like monkeys, more hikes around the decks; all enabled by beautiful May weather. and enhanced by Acapulco gold.
One night Lisa led me down to her cramped-but empty-cabin, her sixtyish roommate long gone due to a failure to communicate, and we communicated. Later, Lisa told me her ex boyfriend committed suicide and she had overstayed her US visa.
She was the one being deported...
Next: Tangier Rises From The Sea
Recommended Reading: The Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway
Recommended Listening: Ammons & Stitt by Gene Ammons & Sonny Stitt
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