It’s been a while since I wrote anything here; the last few months have been ... troublesome. However, something is looming on the horizon and it got the old brain into reflection mode. On the 10 of December I will be attending a bash with about 30 other old time mariners and associates. These were, at the time, not close associates, just people that we tripped over from time to time around the South Pacific and Asia. A description would be difficult, let’s just say that they were ‘fringe’ people, not exactly villains but also not the good guys. Although we didn't know it at the time, I guess you could also say that we were the last of the 'individuals', before the world finally became very bland and formalised. Most of the guys (and a couple of gals) attending will represent around 9 ships that steamed the region at the same time as we did. Most were single ship owner captains with crews that stuck with them over the so very many years, only being replaced when somebody made their exit. The ships were poorly maintained (money was always in short supply) and cargoes carried were a mixture of the legit, that showed on the manifest and the 'other stuff' that officially wasn't there. I can state that none of these ships ever transported drugs, we all had a pact about that. BUT there was liquor, tobacco and at times, arms.
Some of the attendees are older than me and a few a bit younger, this motly lot really covered the years from the 50s to 90s, the Ducks turned up in the 70s and were very much the new kids on the block. We do try and get together once a year but the ranks are thinning, time and past lifestyle are certainly rapidly starting to take their toll.
The point is that at our last gathering it struck me how very peaceful most had become. There was a lot of illness and injuries that now plagued the cast of this little epic but somehow there was almost a aura of serenity about them. Hard cases had suddenly become doting grandfathers and (almost) pillars of society. Certainly the stories still flew around but only those that ended with a good laugh at ourselves, however, more and more stories seemed to revolve around those that are no longer with us, I guess it's the crews way of giving them a form of immortality. Some of the catering staff serving us were a bit 'disrespectful' with that, so often these days encountered, don't care attitude. I had to chuckle, if they only knew ... in the past these oldies they scorned and giggled at behind their backs, would have mashed them to a pulp and left them for the hospitals to put back together - and that would have been the lucky ones, you didn't mess with these guys.
Looking around I saw Limey Pete showing photgraphs of grandkids to any that would look - I remember Pete as the best brawler in Asia, everynight ended in a barfight but the next day he always came back and paid for the damages. His ship 'Lady Faye' was held together with string glue and a lot of luck; what a delight it was to see the old girl loom over the horizon, you just knew something interesting was going to happen.
U Boat Carl, was just that, an ex WW11 U Boat commander, his ship was fitted to carry anything that was liquid and volatile, the strange thing is I have forgotten the name of his ship, it's nickname was 'The Brothel' and it was always a floating knocking shop. Now Carl must be close to 90, during our last meeting he kept wandering back to his Uboat days, alzheimers disease was starting to set in. Perhaps, for Carl, it's better if he goes and lives in the past, there he was somebody.
Then there was 'Lofty Hill', poor old Lofty, he only stood about five feet 3 inches and spent his whole life proving (with his fists) that he was actually six feet tall. His ship 'Dana Carter' ran like clockwork and was well maintained. The old girl did well as a floating casino (and a few other things) and I was saddened to hear of her loss (lost engines in a big blow, broached and capsized). Lofty is still proving how tall he really is, but now it's done with smile.
I could go on for pages about the players that will (I hope) be there, but to outsiders it would all be a bit mundane. As to me, well, I have made a vow that I will attend on my feet (no wheel chair) and that will happen, I haven't yet sat in the blasted thing, maybe in twenty years or so.
As to the 'party' well it will always be a success, people will fade away but all the time those that are left keep the stories flowing they will still steam the oceans of this little planet and that, to us, is important. Plus I think the peace and serenity thing only goes so deep, given a prod the young hellions would soon re-surface ... magic stuff.
