– 2 –
With the Bunbury back at berth for a few hours until the next run of jobs, I clamber around, discovering stuff, as the crew carry out their various tasks.
I find myself in the fluorescence of the mess at some point, completely drained, looking for food. Gino clomps in while I was scarfing my third or fourth cream biscuit.
He is curious about what and why I was on the boat. I gather they don’t get many females coming around for the sake of interest. I ask him my usual “why tugs?” question, and get an absorbing history about his life at sea. It’s a colourful one. Supply ships in remote places. Relocating oil rigs in howling seas. Carrier vessels in waters of the world. Tired to the point of delirium as I am, the words in that spare, functional mess take on a life of their own like a holographic novel in reality-definition.
I tell him where I am from and what I do and try to articulate why I am there. I don’t know if I make any sense, but he seems to understand.
We both like being on the water, in and around the sea.