Of Foreign Build by Jackie Parry Read Free Book Online Page A

off at home on Mariah and motored off back to his base on Wauri .
    ‘I don’t want to leave,’ I said to Noel. They had won me with the chocolate cake. Right at that moment, all the effort and heart-stopping happenings during our two years on board, plus the work and study, all faded into insignificance.
    ‘Whaaarrrrhhhheeeeeeeeeee,’ this was yelled from someone, probably me, as we hurtled around the lagoon strapped into a six-seater, James Bond style speedboat. The g-force crushed my cheeks and gave me a wicked smile as the air was forced into my mouth. The team from Wauri were showing off their boat-handling skills. Hooning alongside turtles, spinning impossible doughnuts, speeding fast enough to distort our faces, I felt free. At last, we were starting to reap the rewards by having fun. But after two days of rest, raucous exuberance, and wine filled evenings, we reluctantly bade farewell and pointed Mariah towards Bali.
    Seven days of endless water stretched out from the bow. Never had we felt this ready for a voyage. Within the nautical group at Ashmore Reef, I had held my own. I understood the watery conversations and enjoyed the array of nautical nuances. Even better, I was starting to handle the boat on my own. During my first watch en route to Bali, staring out across the endless carpet of water, I pondered that for a bit. The thought, that I was completely in charge when Noel was sleeping, felt daunting. I was in control of a ten tonne beast. This really only occurred to me now as we were doing longer voyages. I had to ensure that Noel had a good rest between shifts. I was resting well. So when I was on watch I had to take responsibility and be in charge. All at once, I felt powerful and completely petrified.
    The uneventful sail to Bali was filled with days of clear skies and smooth seas, warm nights and the purring Yanmar propelling Mariah due to the lack of wind. Occasionally, I woke Noel to help me manoeuvre past a large ship. Night watches could be hard work with my body nagging for sleep. Engulfed by deep darkness, spotting the loom of a ship from miles away was easy, leaving plenty of time to monitor its direction and adjust our course if necessary. The red and green navigation lights helped decipher the direction of the other traffic. It felt a bit odd to rely on lights for a vessel’s heading, but all this was happening at only seven miles per hour. However, coupled with the three dimensional movement, at times it became near impossible to guess what was happening. I could become entranced with other boats and stared at them for hours as they were slowly swallowed up in the spangled black. I just didn’t feel comfortable averting my eyes. I had no idea why. It could take hours for a boat to pass, so it was pointless to keep watching the silent silhouette until it eventually became indistinguishable. At three in the morning, tiredness stabbed at my eyes and mental ability; I found it easy to let my imagination run away with me. I would imagine the ship coming sideways towards us! Eventually, my fears would gather momentum and hold hands with my inexperience and I would wake Noel from his slumber. He would rarely need to take any action, because I had already altered course as necessary, but sometimes I needed him just to be with me in the cockpit. It was at these times I was starkly reminded just how much of a novice I still was.
    Noel never complained about being woken up. We both agreed that being completely sure of the situation was better than the unthinkable. A dalliance with a 200,000 tonne steel ship was going to do more than step on our toes. We did, on occasion, find ourselves on a converging course. Learning to use a hand-bearing compass to note and log the other vessel’s angle from us was important. If the bearing didn’t change (after taking two to four bearings, every few minutes), you knew you were heading for the same patch of water and you had to do something about it. Collision