The Winds of Change

The signs that a trip is coming to an end creep up on you.

As we came back on board from Mumbai, we took the opportunity to book the coach transfer from the seaport to the airport in Dubai.

This initiated conversations with fellow travellers about ‘Which flight are you on?’. And then the reminder to self top book the taxi from Heathrow…

And although at that point there were still four days ahead of us, the ship was now heading West across the Arabian Sea on our last big open ocean passage.

And the weather was changing! Once we had left the lights smog of India, the skies cleared but the winds started to rise; the top sundeck wasn’t quite the cosy refuge that it had been! And just to complete the picture, S awoke on the first day out of Mumbai with a sore throat – Winter is coming!

That first day day at sea passed quickly and quietly; Bridge lesson again, although S was still strangely regretting that this again clashed with Captain Les, the Concorde Pilot, talking about earth orbits, satellites and satellite communications!

And then, reading, swimming, eating and drinking.

And day two at sea, much as before. On that morning, S was feeling better enough to inflict one more early morning gym session upon us both; I’ve been more times on this holiday than in the last six months! We also whiled away an hour or so watching a diving display by a group of F

frigate birds gliding alongside the ship and feasting on the flying fish – who were presumably now considering their idea of leaving their natural habitat a really bad mistake!

As the afternoon progressed, so did the strength of the wind – driving even the most hardy to shelter on the sun-loungers on swimming pool deck. And at about 4.30pm, S used a phrase not heard in nearly a month; “I’m feeling a bit cold”!

By 6.00pm, there was quite a notable swell and the wind was howling a bit outside. This was to be the occasion of the last of four ‘premier dining’ nights that we’d pre-booked, but as we lurched along the companion ways and up the stairs, I had a feeling that it might be a memorable experience for all of the wrong reasons!

As we entered the restaurant, S asked the fatal question;

“Are you feeling quite alright?”

“Hmm…” I replied.

Emphatically not alright, I was looking in desperation for something to focus on as a distraction – but all I could see were the various drinks swaying back and forth in their glasses.

S, meaning well, tried several lines of conversation but when feeling nauseous, I find it best to concentrate on my breathing- and you can’t do that and talk! It was a very one-sided conversation that eventually lapsed into an ominous silence.

The first course was soup but it had a really soapy taste and texture (or so it seemed), causing things to start to escalate.

Surreptitiously, I started to plan escape routes, allowing for staggering and obstacles, and if all else failed, emergency pot plants…

The boat and the room carried on swaying.

S, who’s sore throat had escalated into a real cold, was by now also feeling the motion of the boat and was clearly alarmed about my condition – and not least by how she might be ‘inspired’ to follow suit.

The main course, of fish, was barely picked at by both of us – each mouthful now like eating cardboard! The waiter appeared;

“Oh dear? Have you lost your appetites? Ah, I see, it is the motion of the boat. Yes, when it sways like this back and forth, it is so easy to feel how you say…”

We fled for the doors.

Luckily, several sedate laps of the ‘walking track’ on the upper deck managed to avert disaster, but it had been a close run thing. We retired to bed and hoped for recovery.