Chapter 14
Early the next morning, the passengers emerged from their cabins to find they were sitting at port in Gibraltar. A small breakfast service was available if they wished, but most of them prepared to disembark and spend the day in the unusual, but scenic port city.
Rego and Erik waited tables patiently, but the dining room was mostly empty and the ship felt oddly quiet. Both of them were eager to leave the ship and see the city. Soon, all the passengers had left the dining room and they quickly cleaned off all the tables and hurried all the dishes and glasses to the cleaning window. They ran back to the cabin and threw on some civilian clothes and made their way down to D deck to the gang plank.
They were all very glad to get off the ship once again. Rego took in the sights of the large coastal city as he walked down the gang plank. In the distance he could see the huge Rock of Gibraltar standing high, as if a guardian over the entire city. The sun was shining brightly over the Mediterranean waters and the breeze was salty and warm. Streams of tourists and crew members walked the streets, looking through small shops and vendors selling their wares on tables and carts on the sidewalks. Bolo, Erik and a small group of crew members decided to go to the Rock of Gibraltar and tour the old fortress. Bolo had seen it before and wanted to show them the Macaque monkeys that lived around the Rock as well.
But Rego decided to stay behind in the city and walk around the leather markets. He grew more nervous as the day neared for their arrival on Malta. From looking at the map on board the ship, he estimated they would arrive there in no less than two days. And it had to be long enough for him to leave the ship amongst all the passengers, as they had been granted here in Gibraltar. He ran over in his mind all the steps that he must take when he gets there. As they got closer to Malta, the harder it was for him to wait and conclude his long journey.
He walked around and noticed how his legs felt wobbly on the solid ground. He had been at sea so long, he had grown used to the rolling and swaying of the ship underneath his feet. He slowed his pace to regain his composure and adjust his legs. He felt nauseous at times with the uneasy feeling.
He strolled by many tables and carts of Moroccan leather goods. Many of them approached him, holding up belts, wallets and other goods made of leather. He thumbed through a table of decorative coin purses and small pouches. One of the coin purses was dark brown leather that snapped together on the front. The small flap was decorated with a nature scene with the sun in the sky, shining over a large expanse, as if you were staring down from the edge of a cliff. He liked the way it looked and the fresh leather had a new aroma of freshly polished oils. He smiled and thought it would be a nice gift for Rosa.
Then, on another table, he saw exactly what he was looking for. He picked it up and studied every angle of it. The shape and color was exquisite. He looked all around it. Then he put it back down on the table and stared at the vast city. The peddler talked to him in his native tongue, trying to convince Rego to buy it. Rego turned to the vendor and pulled out what little money he had. He looked at the man and holding up the piece said, “This one is perfect.”
It was nearing five in the afternoon, and many of the passengers lined up to go back up the walkway that led to the ship. Many of them carried paper bags filled with souvenirs and larger items that they carried in their arms. They carried postcards, belts, jewelry boxes, leather jackets, bracelets, necklaces, and even small Gibraltar flags.
Rego was amazed at all the things these passengers would spend money on. He noticed a newspaper stand at the entrance to the port and scanned over all the different foreign editions. One of them was actually in Portuguese, so he picked it up and handed the clerk the last couple of coins that he had in his pocket. He saw in the bottom corner of the front page, a picture of Pelé celebrating with a teammate. The caption under the photo read, “Brazil celebrates third World Cup victory, 3-2 over Romania.” He smiled and nodded very proudly. He carried his gift, wrapped up in an old, worn brown paper bag. He made it onboard and went straight to the cabin to lock it away. He quickly donned his uniform and headed to the dining room.
Down in the dining room, the servers quickly prepared for the evening meal. They had less time to prepare so they worked feverishly to be ready by six. At six o’clock, the doors swung open and the hungry passengers streamed inside and headed for the buffet line. Most of them were actually hungry after the long day of touring and sight-seeing in Gibraltar. Rego’s section of tables filled immediately and he was soon refilling water and wine glasses.
He approached the table, with the Americans and Fr. John, holding a pitcher of water. All the Americans shouted in unison, “Rego!” Standing across the room was Hector. He rolled his eyes as heard the people having fun with their server.
“How’s it going, Rego old boy?” Sammy asked patting him on the back. Rego smiled as he rounded the table, refilling the glasses. He stepped behind Fr. John and picked up his glass to refill it.
Fr. John turned in his chair and said, “I saw you in the leather markets today, very nice, wasn’t it?” Rego nodded to him. “A splendid choice you made,” he said with a smile.
Rego hadn’t noticed him while he was looking around the market earlier. He found it curious that he had noticed what he was buying. “Thank you, Father. Did you enjoy the city?”
“Oh yes, very much so, thank you. I always enjoy seeing Gibraltar,” he said politely. Rego looked to see Hector frowning at him across the room. He decided to leave the conversation at that.
Back in his cabin, Rego sprawled on his bunk and read the Portuguese newspaper. He read eagerly about the latest victory for Brazil in the World Cup. Pelé had scored the first goal of the match, leading them to a close win over Romania. They had reached the Knockout Stage and would face Peru in the quarter-finals, in just three days time. He thought about young Pelé, the little boy he had met in Lima. He smiled when he remembered how he told his father he wanted the Brazilians to win because his favorite player was Pelé. He laughed at the irony of how his own country was now going to play Peru for a spot in the semi-finals. The whole continent will be at a fever pitch for that one, he thought. He hated to be missing out on such a big event.
“You coming down for a bite in the break room?” Erik asked him, combing his hair in the mirror. “We might play some poker later on. Lindsey will probably be looking for you,” he said with a wink.
“Nah, I want to catch up on the news here,” he said flipping through his paper.
“OK, buddy, suit yourself,” Erik replied and headed out the door.
Rego scratched his head and then looked back at his paper. He thought it would be best if he just stayed in for the night. He didn’t feel hungry anyway.
The next morning, Bolo and Rego were up on the main deck, playing shuffleboard. Rego seemed more adept at playing this game rather than ping-pong. The breeze coming over the ship was stifling as the ship sliced through the dark blue waters of the Mediterranean.
“What are your plans once we reach Greece?” Rego asked Bolo, shoving a puck down the floor. The puck settled on the number seven section.
“I don’t know,” Bolo answered. “I’m in no hurry to get back to Lisbon. My father has been riding my ass about taking a job in his factory. He says I’m wasting my time out here.” He sent a puck sailing down the floor and smacked Rego’s puck off the number seven. “I don’t want to work in that damn factory.”
“What do you want to do then?” Rego asked.
“I like it out here,” he added. “I love the sea, I love the sea air. I love to be free. I think I could be head steward one of these days. I could go anywhere in the world, see more of it.” He frowned as another puck sailed wide. “But my father doesn’t see it that way. He says you should work hard and support a family and support your country. I love my country and I love my parents, but I’m just no
t ready to go back yet.”
They walked down to the other end of the shuffleboard and gathered up the pucks and started sending them back down the other way. Rego thought about his parents and wondered what it would have been like to have them alive as he grew up. He wondered if he would have ever gone on this voyage if his parents were still alive today. He didn’t have any answers for his thoughts. All he knew was that he missed his grandmother and he missed Rosa. He longed to be with them, especially when they had to go to Salvador for his uncle’s funeral.
“What about you?” Bolo asked him. “What are you going to do? You are a long way from home, buddy.”
He had stumped Rego with that question. He really was a long way from Brazil now. Rego shoved a puck down the game board and watched it stop on number ten. He looked over at Bolo, “You know, I haven’t thought of what I will do afterward. All I’ve been thinking about is getting there.”
“A man that lives one day at a time, I like that,” Bolo said with a grin. “You’re gonna be alright, my friend.” He sent another puck sailing down the floor and smacked Rego’s puck off the number ten and onto the ‘ten off’ space. “But you’re lousy at this game too.”
Night came and Rego stood on the main deck, leaning on the railing and staring into the darkness. He could hear the waves crashing by as the ship sailed on through the night. He rubbed his eyes and brushed his hair back over his head. The time has almost come, he thought to himself.
Down in the break room, the music played and the young crew members danced and chatted after the dinner shift had ended. Lindsey sat on a chair in the corner, holding a bottle of soda in her hand. She looked all around the room, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She stared at the bottle in her hands with a look of pure sadness.