Our 11:00 boarding time comes and goes. Boat is nowhere to be seen. The agent eventually arrives and explains that the current charter demanded to have breakfast on the boat so as such we’re running a bit late, but we later found out that the good captain accidently ran the boat onto a sandbank.
We kill more time until about 14:30 when we’re finally given the go ahead. Quite a huge load of cargo we have to trek down to the dock, so we load it all up into Jenny’s modified 4x4 Landcruiser and we walk down the steps. The African Queen is moored below and the crew was getting ready for boarding and loading. Gerald arrived just a bit earlier with two fuel drums packed with diesel on his bakkie, they manage to rig a hose to them and start to transfer the juice. Funny how the trip turned full circle: when we arrived in Zimbabwe (luggage-less!) at the beginning of the trip, we took a boat cruise on the Zambezi on the African Queen. This is of course another, different Queeny, but still. I dig that kind of stuff.
Jenny arrives with reinforcements to help to load all the gear and it was quite nerve wrecking to behold. They first carry the gear down from the parked Landcruiser, down a slippery slope and onto a pontoon platform which is then used as a to transfer onto a tender boat (one of two small powerboats that the African Queen drags behind her) and THEN over to the house boat! Before I can stop them they’ve already unpacked my camera gear and I retrieve it for safe keeping. Just in time for the bag carrying to big-boy lens to open wide and regurgitate it’s contents and drop it onto the floor....
Mmnmnmnmnmnmnmnmnmnmn
A little.... angry... with myself. Good thing it didn’t fall too far so no damage to the glass, but the lens caps still get scratched something horrid, which to my obsessive compulsive tendencies is enough to really upset me wholesale. Danmit, you know... My mood wasn’t helped by the big thorns breaking off into my hand and arm, courtesy of the nasty thorn tree next to the ladder we have to use to actually get onto this freakin tub!
The African Queen is a house boat floating on 3 pontoons, 2 storeys high, with 4 bedrooms (sleeping a maximum of 15 people), 2 bathrooms with a shower each and an upstairs bar, bridge and lounge area with dining room table. Once everyone has figured out which rooms they want we’re all set.
Well, not quite yet. Seems like the agency that organised this cruise forgot about fuel for the generator!! So we have to wait yet again as Gerald and Fanie goes off to hunt for petrol (yeah, it’s a petrol generator). This is Zimbabwe, by the way. Which translates to: “they had to drive to three different fuel stations to find one with petrol, that they were willing to sell”. Tick tock...
My timing was a bit off, because by my reckoning, at this rate, we were only going to cast off by 18:00. I’m pleased to have been wrong. The crew manages to get their shit together by 16:40 and we cast off to cheers and drinks.
Allow me to introduce them: The crew consists of 3 members, Captain Marco (... polo... can’t help myself), Cookie Bryan and Max the deck hand. The good Captain takes us into Antelope Bay and anchors for the night. Bryan cooks up a fantastic meal for us of chicken (ever seen Little Miss Sunshine? “Chicken Again?? Always with the fucking chicken!”) , rice and gravy. Bryan seems to have gotten his measurements wrong however, and we end up with what was about 3 kilos of prepared rice! Oh well, we can always save some for the rest of the trip. Tonight we actually wanted lamb joint (instead of the “fucking chicken!”, because that’s the only dang thing any African restaurant can actually cook...well...) but it couldn’t defrost in time because of the late start so it will move to tomorrow evenings menu. Unfortunately I couldn’t fully enjoy the “f-ing chicken!” and my own bodyweight in cooked rice since I developed a mild case of migraine. I reckon it’s because of the empty stomach, dehydration and diesel fumes, with a dash of bright sun and maybe the excessive late afternoon drinking. I excuse myself, drop an aspirin and tuck into my bunk, which is about 30 cm too short for me, so my legs hang off the end.
Sigh. Early night for me.
Highlights: Passing out
Not smashing a very expensive lens
[G & A], out
Who needs action when you got words
No comments:
Post a Comment