The Sindbad Voyage by Tim Severin

Author:Tim Severin [Severin, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: UK
Published: 1982-02-10T13:00:00+00:00

The Kingdom of Serendeeb

Ida, my daughter, joined the Omani band as a cymbal player. In Calicut the Omanis had bought themselves a pair of drums, and now they showed up on the foredeck every evening for a cheerful singsong, drumming, clapping, singing and dancing. Ida would pick up the rhythm, and tinkle happily away on a small pair of Indian brass cymbals. The whole feel of the ship had changed. Sohar was a more relaxed, more confident vessel; it was as though the ship's company had emerged from the worries of our apprentice passage across the Arabian Sea from Muscat. Now everything seemed lighter and full of zest. The air was cleaner, the sea more blue, and the ship's wake crisper. Sohar's new sails drove her faster through the water, and with an enlarged sail plan the ship balanced better to the helm. She felt easier and swifter. The green hills of Malabar slipped away on the port-hand side, and Ibrahim's food was a delight after the nightmare of Shanby's sole curry. The Omanis did not seem the least distressed that they were leaving their Calicut wives behind them. On the contrary, they were in high good humour, and bantered with one another, obviously looking forward to the next stage of the journey.

Ida settled in remarkably smoothly. She had one early mishap when she fell down the stern hatchway and tumbled 8 feet straight into the aft cabin which she shared with me. But she choked back the sobs, and her fine array of bruises soon faded under a new tan. She gazed enviously at the water, and longed for a swim, so when the ship was moving slowly we rigged a bosun's chair to a line rove to the upper end of the mizzen spar, and dangled her outboard. Attached to the bosun's chair by a safety harness she was lowered into the sea, and dunked up and down like a ducking stool while a crew member kept a sharp watch for sharks. When a menacing shadow appeared, Ida was whisked up into the air by two strong men and swung inboard like a parcel.

The scientists intrigued her. She sat with Andrew on the gunnel, pointing out targets for his dip net, pouncing on whatever he brought up. She examined the plankton samples which were trawled up, and at night she swirled the buckets of sea water samples to make the phosphorescence glow, and exclaimed in delight at the display. She found a vacant deck space to claim as her own territory, a patch right under the sweep of the tiller, too small for anyone else. There she made her nest, a pillow and a blanket, safe from the stampeding rush of bare feet and the confused thrashings of heavy ropes whenever the crew rushed to work the ship. Only the heavy night rain drove her down into our cabin.

'Daddy, the roof's leaking,' she announced in a puzzled voice as the water cascaded in through the sun-dried seams of the deck and splashed on her bunk.

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