Chapter 9
The sea was calm and the sun was bright as the ship headed northward to Panama. Rego slowly adjusted to the movement of the ship as he worked and soon learned to not think about it. Instead, he would take a break from his work and stare out to the shore and watch it go by as they slowly sailed onward.
Rego went from one deck to the next, mopping the floors of the walkways that ran along the sides of the ship. The sea wasn’t rough but the ship still rocked from side to side at times. After a while, Rego stopped mopping and had to rest. He leaned over the side and thought he might be sick. But, he took in deep breaths and soon he started feeling better.
“This is your first time on a ship, isn’t it?” a voice said behind him. Rego slowly turned his head to the side to see who it was. A young sailor stood behind him with a black cap on his head. He stood with a smile on his face.
“What’s makes you say that?” Rego asked, straightening himself out.
“You haven’t gotten your sea legs yet,” the young man answered. “You’re stumbling all over the place. But that’s OK, you’ll get used to it.” He stuck his hand out to shake Rego’s hand, “I’m Doc, the ship’s steward. Who are you?”
“I’m Rego, the ship’s captain,” he quipped, shaking his hand.
“Ha! You’re a quick witted one, aren’t you?” Doc said laughing.
“Look Captain, don’t stare at the water like that, it’ll just make it worse. Just act normal and everything will be fine.” They both sat down on a long bench that ran along the far wall. “So where you headed?”
Rego looked at him with suspicion. “I’m just here to work. I’m not going anywhere in particular.”
“Sure you are,” Doc replied. “Everybody on here is going somewhere. The ship owners don’t care, just as long as they have a crew on each voyage to get this cargo where they need to.”
“Well, I guess you are right,” Rego said. “Right now, I am just going to Panama. So what does a steward do?” Rego wanted to change the subject.
“I take care of the provisions on the ship. Keep everybody fed and make sure everybody has a bunk to sleep on. I have a lot of time in between though,” Doc said staring out to sea. “I live in Panama, you’ll like it there.” He stood up and looked at Rego. “Hang in there, Captain, you’ll make it. Time to get back to work.” He left Rego sitting there. Rego sat for a moment more then stood up and grabbed the mop and bucket.
Rego found where the bunks were for the crew and threw himself on an empty one. He was so tired he could probably sleep standing up. A few more crew members started to come into the barracks. They talked amongst themselves and paid little attention to him. He lay on his bunk for a while with his eyes closed. He could feel the movement of the ship as he lay on his back. It slowly rocked him to sleep.
After a few hours, his eyes opened and found he was the only one in the barracks. He looked over at an old clock hanging on the wall that read half past seven. He felt hungry and he assumed all the other crew was down in the galley having dinner. What he really needed most though, was to wake up. He wandered down to the end of the barracks, where he found the bathroom. Opposite of the stalls were five small shower heads lining a ceramic wall. A shower, he thought, That’s what I need. The water was cold but Rego didn’t care. He let the water fall on his head as he leaned on his arm against the ceramic wall. After all the hours of mopping the decks, and all the things he had been through since he left Brasilia, Rego had started to show signs of wearing down. But the cold water reinvigorated him and gave him some time to gather his strength. He thought about his grandmother and Rosa, and hoped that Rosa was looking after her well. He couldn’t believe he had been away from home for so long now.
After he dressed, he walked down to the galley where a few men were left eating. He grabbed a tray and slowly slid it down the buffet line. There was very little food left, just a few pieces of dried bread and two pieces of baked fish.
“Rego, where have you been? The galley closes at eight, you know,” Doc said from behind the counter. “You barely made it, my friend.”
Rego did not realize he had almost missed dinner. “Oh yeah, sorry. I fell asleep and lost track of time.” He put the plate down on his tray and grabbed a glass of water and then sat at the nearest table by himself. He was famished so he quickly devoured the fish and bread.
The kitchen detail had already started cleaning the buffet trays and dishes at the sink. Doc came out from behind the counter and sat across from Rego and watched him eat. He produced another piece of bread on another plate and slid it over to Rego. “Here, we had one more piece left over.” Rego nodded in thanks and quickly scarfed it down.
“So, what are you going to do tomorrow?” he asked Rego.
Rego kept eating the bread and said without looking up, “I have an early date with a mop in the morning. Why?”
“Well, we are all day at sea tomorrow before we reach Panama City. If we get our work done, the captain will sometimes let us do some trap shooting from the stern. You want to come join us?” Doc asked him.
Rego had never shot a gun before. But, it sounded interesting to him. A lot better than mopping the decks. “Sure, sounds like fun to me,” he responded.
“We’ll be in Panama City by Saturday afternoon. It will be mad with people. The matches are in Mexico this year and people will be streaming through from all over South America,” Doc said leaning on his elbow.
Rego perked up when he mentioned the World Cup. “You’re right, the first match is Saturday. Brazil’s first match is the following Wednesday. I hope I get to see some of it.”
Doc raised one eyebrow, “Ah, a Brazilian, I knew it! I had a feeling that accent wasn’t Peruvian. You get around my friend. What part of Brazil are you from?”
“Brasilia,” Rego said, acknowledging his interest. “We are going to win it this time, I just know it.”
“Perhaps, but my money is on Peru. They have a good squad this year,” Doc said with a smile. He looked Rego over and began to wonder why he was so far away from his home. “So what’s next once you get to Panama?”
“I don’t know. Look for another way to keep going, I guess,” Rego said with a yawn. He didn’t want to divulge too much but he was so tired, it was hard not to talk about his journey.
“Keep going? Where are you off to next?” Doc kept prying. He could tell Rego did not want to say too much. Doc’s eyes lifted as if a revelation came upon him. “Ah, I see what’s going on. A young man who wants to see the world, right?”
Rego looked at Doc and shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He thought for a moment if he should tell him any more. He thought of the map that he and Rosa had looked at in the library. He finally decided to tell some of his plans. “I had always wanted to see the Mediterranean. I plan to head that way, maybe to Greece. Then after I see what I want, I’ll go back home.”
“I love it,” Doc said in admiration. “A true journeyman. Just throwing caution to the wind and exploring the world. I like your style, my friend.” He stood and glanced toward his cleaning crew. “I need to get back to the kitchen. We’ll come find you tomorrow when we start to shoot the traps.”
“OK, thanks, I’ll see you then.” Rego put his tray at the window and headed back to the barracks. He was still very tired.
Rego didn’t have an alarm clock, but he didn’t need one. The wake-up alarm on the wall sounded above their heads at six A.M. sharp. Rego threw his pillow over his head until it stopped. All the other crew started climbing out of their bunks.
Rego groaned out loud in a desperate attempt to go back to sleep. “Ohhhhh, shit! What the hell was that?” he moaned out loud.
“Wake up call,” said Ramon, a young Mexican on the bunk above his head. He worked in the machine rooms in the bowels of the ship. “They have biscuits in the gall
ey. Then, it’s off to work at six forty-five. Better hurry, before they are all gone!” Ramon bounced off his bunk and dashed down the aisle, throwing on his shoes. Rego found his clothes and his shoes and stumbled his way to the galley, throwing his satchel around his shoulders.
Rego jumped into the line in the galley for the biscuits and cream gravy. He tried to pat his hair down as best he could while moving through the line. Doc stood behind the counter, handing plates of biscuits and gravy to the men. “Ah, you are learning my friend,” he said, seeing Rego. “You made it on time I see.” Doc handed him a plate. He stared at the satchel around his shoulders as he moved down the line.
Rego stood with his mop and bucket and continued mopping D deck. The sky was clear and the wind rushed by as the ship continued north. He liked to stare at the coastline from the starboard side as they slowly passed by. He wondered what country it was that they were passing. Ecuador, perhaps Columbia. Soon, he noticed that the coast began to look farther and farther away.
A few hours had passed and he had finished his mopping of the decks. He closed the door to the maintenance room and turned to walk up the stairs to C deck when he saw Doc coming down with two other young men.
“Hey, we were just looking for you. The captain said we can go shoot some traps on the back of the deck now. You done with the mops?” Doc asked Rego.
“As done as I’ll ever be,” Rego said.
“This is Antonio and Franklin from the kitchen,” he said introducing them to Rego. “They are sharpshooters.”
They headed up to A deck and walked to the back of the ship where another crew member was setting up an old skeet launcher. The ocean rushed by as Rego leaned against the rail and watched as they prepared the launcher. He watched as Antonio loaded the rifle and waited for the launch. The traps were round clay discs painted yellow, just a little bit larger than a saucer.
“Ever shoot one of these before,” Doc asked leaning against the rail next to Rego.
“No,” he said watching Antonio intently.
Antonio lifted the gun to his shoulder and then shouted to the launcher, “Pull!” A loud metallic sound came from the contraption and with a quick motion of the swing-arm, one yellow disk went sailing into the air thirty meters out. Within seconds, Antonio fired a single round from the rifle and the disk shattered in the air and scattered softly into the ocean. He cocked the rifle again, lifted it to his shoulder and shouted once more, “Pull!” Again, the disk was shattered, trying to escape the ship. Antonio lowered his rifle with a confident grin, and then offered the rifle to Rego.
Rego clumsily opened the rifle and loaded two rounds as Antonio had done earlier, then finally lifted the rifle to his shoulder.
“Maybe you should take that thing off your shoulder, it will get in the way,” Doc said, giving a look to the satchel around Rego’s shoulder.
“No, it’s fine. Pull!” he shouted and the disc was launched. He took his best aim at the flying saucer and then squeezed off a single shot, not knowing where the bullet will land. The shot rang out, but the disc continued to sail out and then fade slowly down to the water. Rego frowned but he had a feeling that would be the end result. He watched as the disc softly landed on the surface and slowly disappeared under the waves.
Antonio spoke up, seeing it was his first try, “It’s alright, try another shot. Keep it in your scope. But, you have to lead it a little.”
Rego took the advice with a frown. But, he was determined. He lifted his rifle and shouted once again, “Pull!” The disk went sailing into the air and Rego followed it in his scope and then pulled the trigger. To his shock, the disc exploded in the air. Rego whirled around in delight, “I hit it!” All three men ducked because the gun was pointed straight at them when he whirled around.
Doc pushed the barrel of the gun to the side with a worried grin, “Hey, watch the barrel there, cowboy. Point that thing down when you’re done! Nice shot though.” Rego looked embarrassed when he realized he was pointing the empty gun at them. He handed the rifle over to Doc and let him take a few shots.
The men took turns shooting the gun and watching the clay discs shatter in the air. Rego started to pay less attention to the trap shooting and more to the open water. He soon realized he could see land a great distance on the horizon to the west. He stood up and looked at it closer. They were large islands that looked rather flat, but he could only see the shape of the land on the horizon.
“What land is that out there?” he asked to the group of men. They all looked out in the direction Rego was pointing.
“Oh,” responded Doc, “Those are the Galapagos, where all the giant tortoises live. That’s where all the scientists go to look at turtles, if you can imagine that. There’s nothing there but wild creatures.” Rego stared at the islands for a while longer and tried to imagine what the giant turtles looked like. He wondered what it would be like to just go to a deserted island and watch the animals. His mind liked to daydream about such things.
The sun began to set and the waves began to lash against the side of the ship. The clouds rolled in and a light rain began to fall. Soon, they all packed up the discs and launcher and headed back to the barracks.
Rego was fast asleep in his bunk. The storm outside on the sea grew more intense and the ship rocked from side to side. Suddenly the ship tipped even further to one side and Rego went tumbling out of his bunk and crashed onto the floor.
“Shit, my head!” he cursed under his breath as he lifted himself to his knees on the hard iron floor. The boat kept rocking back and forth. He noticed that he was the only one on the floor. Everyone else was still fast asleep.
Ramon leaned his head over the side of his bunk with an exasperated expression on his face. He pointed to a leather strap attached to the side of his bunk. “You have to use the straps, you idiot. Now pipe down!” He rolled back over and closed his eyes.
Rego sat on the edge of his bunk, holding his head. He dug his hand down underneath the thin mattress and pulled out the tie-down straps. He shook his swollen head and muttered to himself, “Now they tell me.”