1991
Early evening time
Standing on the stern
Of the Ternate Star
Out of harbor
Leaving behind the Spices Islands
Nothing like it at all___
The silhouettes of Mount Gamalama and Kie Matubu volcanoes
Smaller and smaller
The scent of island’s famed cinnamon, durian, nutmeg, and cloves
Fainter and fainter
With every twist of the ship’s screws___
Westward of the island
The Ternate Star’s speed
Eighteen knots
Two hundred nautical miles to Manado, Sulawesi
Kie Matubu volcano
ETA a little after dawn___
My bunk in a portside room
Three of us
The one-armed first mate
Mummamad, his burung beonya or parrot, and orang kulit putih or white man
The only Mistah aboard
Standing on the stern railing
Of the Ternate Star
The eastern sky darker and darker
The swells stronger and stronger
The wake spreads as a fan
Mummumad eyes the north clouds
“Tonight, a storm. Not so big. Passengers get sick. Don’t get sick. Only two ways to stop sick.”
His English learned on a tanker
Traveling from Jakarta to San Francisco.
I don’t ask the two
My Bahasa Indonesian tidak bagus.
Not good.
The ferry struggling through the rise swells
Leaving behind the flickering pearls
Of the coastal lights
Evening slipping overhead to cover the sky
Stars telling our position
To the first mate’s keen eyes
At sea
An Equatorial sea
The tropics
Like a tale of Joseph Conrad
Each twist of the propellers
Driving the Ternate Star
Farther from the 20th Century
Nothing like it at all___
Sea waves rise and fall
The ship slips up and down
The engines pistons pound the screws br/>110 RPM
Driving the Ternate Star into the wind
Nothing like it at all___
The moon blacked out
The stars blacked out
The 360° of horizon of black
Only the fury of the sea
Only the dim lights of the Ternate Star
The white fury of foam
Thump thump thump
The prow cuts through the waves
The troughs deepen to pits
The ships shutters with each dive
Rain slap slick the wet deck
The passengers sea sick
The sailors laugh
Nothing like it at all___
Lying in your bunk
So small so sweaty
Tremors shake the hull
Each descent
Innocent wood creaking
A Symphony of shudders
To come apart
Through the storm All quarters blasted by rain
Nothing like it at all___ An hour of storm passes, then two, then three, four
The passengers puke of muntah
Squalls howl to a high pitch
My stomach heaves
Stand at the railing
Two hands gripping wood.
Mummamed grabs my belt
“Do not muntah. Once start only finish two ways.
Drowning or land.”
Not a good thought
We smoke a kretek in the cabin.
THe parrot sleeping.
Good at sea
I try and sleep
Not possible
I pray to Neptune
Not God
No one prays back___
Before the dawn
Rise
The sea calm
On deck
Passengers kneel and say doa pagi
Men port. Women starboard
Sailors smoke clove kreteks
I bum one
How sweet the smell
Ahead Sulawesi
Green
Glowing with the rising sun
The smell of land
Meets us and greets us
How sweet that stench
As the Ternate Star turns its back on the Open Sea
Nothing like it
Nothing like it at all
The Ternate Star safe and sound
And Sulawesi full steam ahead
