11
The Princess of Stephanos swayed at the quayside anticipating her voyage along the coast to Dorini in the north. She passed the time before her guests arrived, reflecting on the time they'd spend together. No two passengers were the same. And everybody loved her. She was still beautiful and she knew it. With style and grace she took her patrons to a world they never knew existed and they would never forget. She was unique - and sassy. Men had drooled over her shapeliness. Women had envied the attention their partners bestowed upon her rich dark oak and ivory trappings. She speared the air with her extended bowsprit like a proud and sexy swordfish.
Dressed in swanky velveteen of burgundy and rust, her windows were curtained from top to bottom, giving a distant effect of luxurious chic. From her walls hung decorative plates scattered at random around the panelled and polished saloon. The loungers and tables wore highlights of gilt and carried bouquets of the finest imitation flowers. Several potted plastic plants filled in the gaps amongst fresh jasmine trailing round the room from every hook and pin. The whole was intended to represent the living rooms of sumptuous Stephanian homes, even down to the television set and the welcoming fireplace effect set into a bulkhead. Oh, how the Greeks love their kitsch - that is, whenever they can afford it, yet no matter how hard they tried, still they could never disguise the heady smell of diesel. But having said that, once on board, I was all hers.
The crew had weighed anchor, made the customary ritual sacrifice having prayed to the gods for help and guidance. The engines were throbbing. Anticipation and confidence was high. But something was wrong. The Princess began screeching and straining and banging against the quayside. There came a roar of panic and dread as everyone rushed toward to the bow where it became obvious the hawsers were still firmly attached to the bollards on the jetty.
Captain Dimitris and his crew ran about getting in each other's way with as much arm waving and foaming at the mouth as the drama would allow until at last the jammed winch was freed and we were steered clear of any further unpredictable perils.
Everyone cheered with relief, and the crew did their best to look modest as compliments flew between them. I saw the humour and enjoyed the entertainment so much I started a gentle applause on the forecastle. The clapping swelled and swelled until everyone on board, even the crew, was standing round clapping. On behalf of all the passengers, I complimented the skipper on protecting the graceful lines of his yacht. He was so flattered he invited me to join him in the wheelhouse for complimentary ouzo as soon as we were under way. I was honoured and although not normally a drinker, I could hardly refuse. So with Captain Dimitris in the wheelhouse keeping a weather eye on the horizon, and me sipping the concentrated aniseed drink, I began humming the one sea shanty in my repertoire, Liverpool Lou and it wasn't long before the Princess of Stephanos was gliding over the waves along her way.
From the deeper waters, we look up to see the cliff tops displaying remains of a once precarious and mysterious colony, one which gave our captain the perfect opportunity to play the well-informed host, 'Meester? You see this water, those rocks, and those buildings? Very, very old. All here since before Christ-mas.'
We rounded the first cape under wispy, abstract clouds in a perfect sky and made good headway even though it was gusting on the nose and soon had me drenched in flying spray. It wasn't done to complain so I did my best to muster some nonchalance amongst my trusty Argonauts whilst squelching about in my plimsolls as though this was an experience I'd always dreamed of. To add further to my discomfort, there was a pimple on my inside thigh chaffing against my shorts.
But the sea glittered and the rest of the journey passed without further ado apart from one piece of remarkable success achieved with the aid my phrase book. I managed to order, and receive, a cheese pie and some lemonade through my very own efforts. My lessons at school and Uncle's teaching were coming back to me. The down side was that being so jubilant at getting something right, I think I over-tipped him because he gave me the money back. But no harm done, just a little humiliated, and before I knew it we'd disembarked at Dorini, a little disappointed at not seeing one dolphin or shark, or even the Kraken for that matter, although I was getting eye-strain from all that staring at the bright and elusive sea.