Salad Days.12

Word spread that the nearest town was Mollendo so several taxis were booked that evening. It would be a short stint ashore however, the ship was due to sail at midnight. We tried several bars before settling on one and a good time was had by all. There were a few girls about but not the sort we had become accustomed to. In truth I was a little relieved, Pisco had been enough for me for the time being. Or at least that's what I thought. I was only 17 years old, it was a bit of a stretch.

At 11pm when we were just looking at leaving three girls walked into the bar. To cut a long story short they were from Canada and were very interested in Alan and me. At around 11.25 we knew we had to leave or miss the ship. No contest, we went back to the hotel with the Canadian girls. We reasoned that I had a long taxi ride in Lima for pence and the price of the taxi from Valparaiso to Santiago we considered a bargain, how much would a taxi twice the distance cost?

It turned out to be a week's wage for both of us but we didn't bat an eyelid. A week's wages when you are months at sea wouldn't be missed. We were more concerned with the state of the taxi. It had no windscreen nor bonnet to cover the engine. If we knew of the third problem we would never have gotten into the car.

The road from Mollendo to Ilo in daylight was perhaps more terrifying than the return in darkness from Santiago. I think it was most likely due to our sudden awareness of the third fault with the taxi. On a downhill gradient the driver had to pump the brakes that only seemed to work sporadically. The first part of the journey was the worst as we rose into the foothills of the Andes and down the other side. If the brakes were a major concern, the driver was a bigger one. We were sat in the back seats and he kept looking over his shoulder to talk to us. I finally understood the religious aspect of the people, I said a few prayers that day. There are no atheists on a sinking ship.

The last part of the journey was hair-raising for a different reason. The road ran along the coast and in many places just a matter of yards from the mighty Pacific Ocean. Spray and water hit the road ahead, we could feel the car aquaplaning on its no doubt bald tyres. The driver never lost his smile, he could probably buy a new car with the price of the fare. For the only time and can recall, my prayers were answered and we arrived in Ilo in one piece, albeit with stinking hangovers and jangling nerves.

The Captain was less than pleased when we took the driver on board to get his money. He did our hangovers no favours ranting at us even though we lied through our teeth saying we got lost. As we were just kids he didn't throw the book at us though. We were fined a day's wage and not allowed ashore in Ilo which I didn't consider a punishment. I hadn't worked the day I lost so there was no real loss and you couldn't have dragged me ashore after last night.

It was with a little sadness we left Peru for the last time. This ship was my coming-of-age as far as the sea was concerned. Peru and Chile had left lasting impressions on me and were the catalyst for an attitude change. It would be wrong to attribute it solely to South America, the crew also played a huge part. After the problems I had at school and then on the streets briefly, I was a pretty angry person. I still am in some ways but at least now I was angry for the right reasons.

Balboa or Panama City had a similar feel to Cristobal on the Atlantic side but the experience was not the same. It was bigger and busier, possibly because it was at the end of the Puente de las Américas, which at the time was the only link between the North and South American continents. In any event it was somewhat of an anti-climax. We arrived at night and sailed early in the morning. Once again the journey through the Canal was awe-inspiring and Peter Frampton was in full voice as the ship blasted music out to the jungle.

At the locks some of the Panamanian guys came on board and started tapping along to the music with makeshift instruments. I was amazed at the natural rhythm they had, all doing a different beat yet all coming together like pieces in a jigsaw. Needless to say there were a few herbal transactions going on but the crew were a little dismayed to hear we would be docking in Avonmouth. It was renowned as a HMC&E training place and it was common for ships to get ripped apart by the rummagers. The crew decided it was going to be one hell of a party on the Atlantic crossing.

Unfortunately the Atlantic had other ideas and once again showed us its ire. A 7-10 day crossing took us 17 days and never were we so glad to see England again even though it was a shock to the system. We had come from summer in the southern hemisphere to winter in England with no autumnal cushion in between. I had no intention of staying home long, I needed more sunshine.