大象传媒

Hey! Rosie,theres a boat down there" I heard the cry.It was Lambert,pointing down towards the beach.We had transfered our guns from El Shatt to this little promotory where the Suez Canal exited into the Gulf of Suez before continueing into the Red Sea.A beautiful little spot,there was a strip of silver sand extending right out to sea and we could'nt wait to get into that lovely blue water.But the guns had to be set into their emplacements first, then "lined up", as soon as that was done it was off togs and into the water.Those of us a bit slower off the mark were the lucky ones for nobody had noticed that the lovely silver sand was covered in black spots,which turned out be Sea Urchins! The spines of these little so-and-sos were then sticking into the feet of those first swimmers!They had to be carried out of the water,having first made sure that the sand was swept clear of the remaining urchins.Then, the spines had to removed.The cry went up "Send for ALBERT!".He was our Medical Orderly and he seemed to delight in digging into something,and I don't mean sand,for Desert Sores and boils easily appeared and they needed lancing and Albert was the boy for that! This was a very difficult job as the spines were covered in a loose ink and even when the spine had been removed one could never be sure it was all gone as they broke very easily,leaving a black mark inside the wound.The best way was to probe around till the blood washed the hole made by the spine clear of that black stuff.It was some time before the sufferers ventured into the sea again! Anyway I was about the start off on another adventure for Lambert's call (funny thing, that he never had a nick-name,he was always just'Lambert'!)I walked down to the shore and sure enough there was a little rowing boat,gently rocking in the little waves.I could'nt see any oars and there was no mast,so for the moment I did'nt have any idea as to what he was getting all excited about.

"Look" He said" we can go for a sail"
"I think you've forgotten something have'nt you"
"What" he said.
"No mast,no sail"
"Oh! we can soon do something about that.Look there's a piece of wood over there,that'll do"
And he was right.About eight foot long and three or four inches round,it could have been the original mast for it just fitted in the hole in one of the seats and was supported by a similar hole in the keel.
"Come on" says Lambert "If we got tent fly (that is a piece of our 180pounder tent in the shape of a triangle)we could soon convert it into a sail"
Which is what we did and were soon bowling along before the wind,we had found another piece of drift wood to act as rudder,which Lambert was using to steer a course.
"Where are we going" I asked.
"Oh" Lambert replied,somewhat airily,"we'll just go along here aways,then turn round and come back".
Ah!well,I thought he's the skipper,I'll leave it to him.
It was really great I let my hand trail in the water,it became a liitle bit choppy but sitting at the back I did'nt feel any of the spray coming over the sharp end where Albert was sitting,as he had turned the steering over to me as he wanted to see where we were going.
"I think it's time we were turning back, do'nt you" I said.
"Yes,I think we've come far enough,turn it round now"
"How do I do that" I said.(My grandfather, Skipper of a Lowestoft trawler must have been spinning in his grave)
"Ah" said my present 'Skipper'"I had'nt thought of that"
So there we were miles along the coast of the Sinia desert,still heading east and not a soul in sight!
No! that's not right for there some distance away was a group of Arab dhows.Well,there was nothing for it but to seek their help,so we slowly made our way over to them.
Of course,they had seen us a long while before,but as we bumped alongside they ignored us.Coo,what a pong! these were fishing dhows.But they soon came over to try and find out what we wanted,as if that was'nt obvious.They had been at prayer,now they helped us aboard the nearest dhow and signed for us to sit on the deck.They tied our little boat to the stern,and then proceeded to have a discussion as to what they should do with us.Visions of remembered tales of the slave trade drifted across my mind

But no,they had singled out one of their number,a wrinkled old chap and he came over to us and helped us into another dhow tied up alongside,the old boy was soon steering us away from the others,our boat tied on the back in which Lambert was now steering.We were now almost out of sight of the land but no! we were turning and going back,the shore got ever nearer,so close were we that the old boy jumped off the front of the dhow and proceeded to push it round till it pointed out to sea again.And off we went,the shore receding behind us.Then I realised what he was doing he was 'tacking' up against the wind. Three more trips like that and our guns were in sight.
The old chap beached the dhow and invited us to get off.
Phew! what a relief.
Anyway,I could'nt let the old boy go without giving him something so I cudgled my brains for a bit and so it came to me! Chai! They loved a cup of tea.I gestured for him to stay and dashed up to the Cook-house to see Titch Cotton our cook and begged some tea from him,promising that I'd tell him all about it later.I returned to the dhow and gave the old boy the tea.He looked a bit puzzled at first but his face soon broke into a wide toothless grin,and having presented him with the boat as well,he was soon off to rejoin his mates.
As for us,Lambert and I,our sailing days were definitely over.

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