Of Foreign Build (15 page)

Read Of Foreign Build Online

Authors: Jackie Parry

Tags: #Nonfiction, #Retail, #Sailing, #Travel

With exhausted jubilation, nearing the end of April, we arrived at Safaga, Egypt. The much needed social relaxing with fellow cruisers was put on hold while we dealt with the officialdom of checking in and taking on fuel and water. At the fuel dock, a huge oil slick managed to attach itself to
Mariah
, but at that moment we could not have cared less. We just wanted to get off the boat and have a decent meal.

Before we knew it, we were taking a two-day trip to Luxor with our friends Faith and Cindy from
Carmen Miranda
. A four-hour bus ride through amazingly arid, rocky terrain transported us to Luxor. Getting off the bus, we were literally bombarded with agents trying to convince us to stay at their hotel or go on their tour. Through advice gleaned from other cruisers, we knew where we were going and were soon settled into a reasonable hotel.

Luxor is one of the greatest capitals of the ancient world: charming and evocative. The Nile banks are lined with modern hotels. The feluccas sail along the quiet waters of the river and the Bazaar comes to life at night. This is the great ancient city of Thebes, capital of the Egyptian empire for almost one thousand years. The Pharaohs who succeeded to the throne left their mark by extending the temple or adding halls and chapels. The temple dedicated to Amon (Egyptian deity who was revered as king of the gods) is astounding because of its size. It is the largest temple with columns in the world; apparently it could contain Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris within its entirety. In short, it is stunning. That evening we explored the temple, with its professional lighting creating eerie shadows and voices from the past imparting their grand history. The sphinxes that line the entrance stare hard at the thousands of trespassers. The imposing columns that stretch to the sky are filled with carvings – ancient words and pictures; the almighty statues stand guard. It’s a remarkable sight with a heavy air of mystique.

Into the swing of being back on land and forever thankful to be safe, the next day we explored the tombs of the kings and queens, in the great Valley. In the middle of a desert, within steep, peaked mountains lie ornate buried graves. The hieroglyphics, carvings, and paintings completely cover the ceilings and walls of the tunnels that lead you down into the bowels of the rocks. There lies a huge granite coffin, extra rooms for the extensive gifts, and, in one, the skeleton of an unborn baby! Our guide orated a brief history lesson in each tomb as we stared in wonderment and touched where we could – where ancient hands touched before. I was awestruck and right in the moment; Noel was hot and bored. To him the tombs were all the same; to me they held the enchantment of the past.

We both got “the bug” and spent the last day avidly stuffing bottom-blocking tablets down our throats, in the hope that we would survive the return bus trip. There were no toilets on the bus or bushes on the road; if we did come across a café (and I use that word loosely), the toilet would be a hole in the ground. This hole was surrounded with stuff you do not want to tread in, but have no choice. It stinks to high heaven and probably contains some sort of life form you don’t want to know about. Much to our relief, we made it back without an embarrassing incident, loaded up with fresh foods, and took off. We felt off colour, weak, and tired, but the weather was calm. We needed to take advantage of calm seas.

Mostly, the 240 miles towards Port Suez were calm and pleasant. We were on target to arrive in the afternoon. During our last night, a strong wind kicked up with vengeance. Windy and his mates tossed and buffeted us all night and did not give me a moment’s rest. Fortunately, Noel had managed to have a sleep before the tumultuous weather bullied us north. In the morning, I was tired and cranky, but the forty knots of wind whisked us along at full pelt through the narrow, freighter-packed stretch, insuring our adrenaline was kept pumping at full flow.

Then the storm hit.

It wasn’t your average thunder, lightning, and rain, but your face-stinging sand storm. Suddenly, the horizon turned peachy orange, as if someone had turned on a coloured light bulb. The horizon and its peachy companion came up to meet us. We turned on our navigation lights. Our below-deck lights were on, too. The sand was thick; it felt as though we were being sandblasted. It was scary. I was trying to think in two directions at once. We couldn’t see past the bow of the boat. Sand worked its way into every orifice, completely covering the boat. Just as our stress levels had reached stroke-inducing levels, I thought that, surely, it couldn’t get any worse. Then, I spotted the bow of an enormous, 300-foot freighter dead ahead, not thirty metres away and about to run us down! These behemoths can move through the water at twenty-six knots. As the monster loomed out of the gloom, I shouted to Noel, ‘Quick hard to starboard’. I swore with the invention of a few, new colourful obscenities, my heart coming through my chest. We squinted through the peachy-fog and gasped as other ships emerged from the murkiness. Within a few moments, we noticed that the ships weren’t actually moving. With tear-making relief, we realised we were in the middle of the anchorage! There were umpteen ships at anchor waiting to traverse the Canal. The smog was so thick we hadn’t seen them until almost upon them.

As we approached our intended anchorage area, the sand started to clear a little. We entered the famous canal and travelled about half a mile to our designated area (the rest of the Suez canal trip had to be arranged by handing someone lots of money and taking a pilot on board). As we made our approach, there were more rather large freighters coming down the canal, and we passed these monsters within a few metres. With forty knot winds buffeting
Mariah
at their will, I was becoming more anxious. At least now we could see the ships, and it felt as though the wind was starting to ease a bit.

Just as we were about to anchor, the winds started to gust up to forty knots again and put on an almighty final display, reaching fifty knots, supplying us our greatest shot of adrenaline. I was operating the anchor winch, and Noel was steering. We were both keenly aware that anything could happen – equipment could fail, engine could die, we could get hurt. The winds had really gathered momentum now, and I was nearly blown clean off the deck; we were careering sideways in a tight anchorage. Somehow, Noel steered us to a good spot and I let the anchor go at the right time. We held our breaths, hoping that the anchor grabbed. It did, and the anchor chain pulled tight and finally gave a little; we were held firm for the first time in what felt like forever.

Some cruising buddies, who had already arrived, were full of congratulations, ‘It’s a real milestone you’ve just completed.’ We were exhausted, our nerves completely rung out. We didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Noel looked at me, his crinkled eyes exuded warmth, love, exhaustion, relief, and gratitude. He smiled and asked, ‘Are we having fun yet?’

Boat jobs were tackled in a hurry; putting on sail covers, and the usual checks had to be done. It was a bargain of give and take:
Mariah
looked after us, we looked after her. Eventually, and at the earliest opportunity, I hopped into bed. My limbs were so heavy, my eyes so sore, I wasn’t even able to undress. I had missed my sleep shift through the night and had been awake all day with adrenaline galloping through my veins.

‘Hallo, hallo,’ interrupted my slack-mouthed dribble as I floated off almost immediately. A local guy was hanging off
Mariah’s
stern, looking into the cockpit. I got up to see what he wanted. Noel was still busy finishing off the anchor duties I had neglected, like tying on elasticised strops to ease the harsh movement. A warm welcome into a new country was always appreciated, and I usually asked visitors on board; this time I didn’t. I was absolutely exhausted and my patience had become gossamer thinner.

The skinny, brown man, with a crooked smile and white teeth, asked, ‘Do you want fuel? Water? Tours?’ He was relentlessly trying to ensure our business went through him.

I couldn’t get a word in edgeways and lost any sort of reason. ‘Bugger off,’ I said, and then I went back to bed.

He disappeared only momentarily. Just as I was drifting off into oblivion, I heard, ‘Hallo, hallo, you have to move; you are in the wrong spot.’

A couple of tears escaped my eyes through exhaustion.
That’ll teach me for being rude
, I thought. Once again, I got up. Noel was still busy ensuring everything was how it should be on deck. The whole episode started again, but this time I asked our visitor to come on board. However, I didn’t offer him a cup of tea.

‘Okay, if we have to move, you have to help us re-anchor.’

I could see his mind forming the reason why he couldn’t help us. But then he looked at me. My hair hadn’t been brushed for several days and had two attempted sleeps mussing it further, my eyes were dark, my mouth down, and I was tense. I could have taken lead role as a mad, murderous woman. Our new crew member swallowed and astutely thought about where he was and his options. Then he agreed to help.

I am just horrid when I am tired, so needless to say we gave him the worst job of flaking the anchor chain. He did a good job and turned out to be quite a nice man. We did give him our business – after I’d slept!

‘We want to get off the boat as soon as possible,’ Noel said to some friends.

‘Great, join us on our organised trip.’ All of a sudden we were on our way to Cairo to see the pyramids. We had been making friends along the way and having gained enough confidence to chat of my boating abilities, I was meeting people with a vast array of experience. Some cruisers had been living on board over ten years, some for one year, some were fledglings that had just joined as crew. We had been on board for three years. I was learning something new each day and had gained the courage to ask others for advice or information. I came to realise that everyone, whatever his or her level of experience, had something to teach us. Much to my amazement, I learned that I had something to teach others, too. I was feeling comfortable in my watery world.

I had changed so much, not just with learning to cope with new words, new items, and new ways of life, but my morals and beliefs had changed. I used to think that everyone should have a proper job. If they didn’t have a good reason as to why they weren’t working, I just viewed them as reprobates! I used to mount my moral steed and spout how I was paying taxes and paying them to be layabouts.

Being unemployed by choice, I lived on a tight budget. I had no regimented times to be anywhere. I was free. I shed those bigoted blinkers and realised how I had misjudged the world and my fellow humans. Now, I viewed people ensconced within the nine-to-fine with having no idea! Go and explore, have adventures, I wanted to preach. I had to learn to keep my opinions and views in check – just because I had found the freedom I had craved, didn’t mean it was right for everyone.

Happy to once again step onto terra firma, we set off early with Joy (a Brit and a crew member from
Alien III
), Jimmy and Tineke (Dutch, on board
Gabba
), and a family of three from a French boat named
Balloo
. After a couple of hours drive into the bustling, dusty city of Cairo, we stepped into Cairo Museum. This huge gallery was stuffed full of tombs, statues, treasures, mummies, and even bread that was thousands of years old! But the best was the treasures from Tutankhamen. I hadn’t realised they were here, the famous, stunning gold mask right there! The treasures from the young, handsome king’s tomb were not found until 1923. So well hidden was the tomb that robbers hadn’t found it, so present-day folk can enjoy the amazing sight of the most famous Egyptian king’s burial treasures.

The discovery of Tutankhamen’s tomb was one of the most exciting finds of modern archaeology. In 1922, Englishman Lord Carnarvon, an art collector and great traveller, had already invested about fifty-thousand British pounds in financing numerous excavations in Egypt, all of which had been fruitless. Lord Carnarvon and his mission director, Howard Carter, had almost given up hope of discovering another tomb. But in 1923, they had their day. Of all the precious objects in the sovereign’s tomb, the most impressive of all was the great sarcophagus, which was a single, enormous block of quartzite that housed four gilt wooden containers placed one inside the other like Chinese boxes. Within these sarcophagus’, there were three ornate coffins. When they lifted the tonne and a half granite lid off the third coffin and looked into the interior, they saw only discoloured linen cloths. When the cloths were slowly cast aside the king, though, the gold gradually appeared: a wooden sarcophagus entirely plated in gold and inlaid with glass and semi precious stones. But the most moving thing of all was a small garland of flowers, possibly laid by his young wife, Ankhesenamun; after thirty-two centuries those flowers still conserved a bit of their original colour!

In summary, Tutankhamen was in ornate coffins, the third was twenty-two carat solid gold, weighing 1,170 kilograms, the material itself was priceless in value. The carvings on these coffins were simply beautiful. After the coffins, he was placed in a beautifully carved sarcophagus and covered in shrines. Tutankhamen was special, being the young pharaoh of transition who brought back the capital to Thebes, reviving the ancient cult of Amon-Ra and other gods. He was nineteen when he died, and he received the most royal of burials. They must have been building his tomb when he was born! His mummy was covered in jewels, and his huge tomb was crammed full of gold, precious stones, gifts and offerings. I found it amazing that this tomb with kilograms of gold had managed to keep the immortal remains of the great king hidden from the eyes of the world for so long.

Just seeing all these treasure made the day, but there was more to come. We jumped back on the bus, en route for Giza, where the Pyramids stand. The magnificent pyramids are on the edge of the town. They are in the desert and spread over about two to three square miles. Our next decision was whether to walk, take a horse or take a camel. We opted for a camel, as it wasn’t an everyday occurrence to be able to ride one and I felt it more apt.

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