I begin this tale a tad self-conscious, as it has occurred to me that readers may have, by now, concluded that I was, or even worse, I am, an alcoholic!
No, seriously! This little adventure really was a once off.
A few years back, Ann and I and two good friends (whose identity I have decided not to reveal in the interests of keeping their reputations intact), boarded the MSC Musica in Durban harbour for a three-night trip to the Portuguese island and back.
The ship’s program included a fancy-dress, deck party on the first evening at sea so, in the spirit of the moment, we had visited a local shop and kitted ourselves out in appropriate attire with the intention of attending what promised to be a great thrash.
Ann and I were shown to our balcony cabin on deck thirteen, which was a spacious cabin with sliding glass doors opening out to a narrow balcony. It took no time at all to unpack and head for a rendezvous with our friends on the pool deck.
The ship cruised out of port in the late afternoon as we sipped on cocktails that we wouldn’t have normally touched under any other circumstances, but for the fact that we were keen to fit in with the exciting holiday atmosphere on board.
We had been allocated the first sitting for dinner that evening, but without having fully read through the guidelines provided in great detail in the passenger brochure, we failed to note the starting time for the open-air carnival later that evening.
We decided that it would be clever to don our fancy-dress outfits ahead of dinner so that once dinner was over, we could mosey up to the deck where the party was to be held and join in.
As we confidently made our way through the double doors of the expansive and beautifully formal dining room, we saw that not only were the tables almost all occupied, but that our fellow passengers were properly dressed in what could best be described as smart casual.
On the other hand, our fellow passengers looked up to rest their eyes on two gentlemen sporting bright Caribbean shirts with plastic hats, glasses with moustaches attached and plastic Cuban cigars, closely resembling New York Mafia on holiday at the Copacabana, while our ladies, in contrast, looked like fairies. The spectacle must have been that much more amusing by virtue of the fact that Ann is a slender and petite lady while her friend is 1.80-metres tall and weighs in at supersize!
We were met by a smart and seasoned Italian waiter with a twinkle in his eye who invited us to follow him through the maze of tables of staring patrons, to a table at the rear of the room next to a window.
We didn’t miss a beat and if our fellow passengers were amused by our entrance, they made every effort to avoid staring and laughing out loud!
Already pleasantly imbibed by the afternoon’s refreshments, but still very much in control, we took our time enjoying a superb dinner and soon became the best of friends with Antonio, our Italian waiter, who readily joined in the fun to the amusement of the tables around us.
As dinner came to an end, we asked Antonio to direct us to the carnival. It was only at this point that we realized the error of our ways.
Butta, ze carnival is only starting at ten o’clocka! he exclaimed
Oh sì! we exclaimed in return and looked at each other. What would we do for the next two hours? was the question.
Why don’t we go to the casino and have a flutter? suggested our friend. The time will pass quickly if you don’t give any attention to it.
So off we went to the large and spacious casino, which was almost empty of punters. We basically had the place to ourselves.
My friend decided to take over a roulette table, the two girls went to the slot machines, and I sat down at an empty blackjack table quite close by, mainly because I’d only played blackjack once or twice before and the idea of not being intimidated by more professional players with whom one would usually have to share the table, was pretty inviting.
We ordered drinks. I ordered a bottle of wine. I exchanged one thousand rand in cash for US dollars with the croupier and the game was on!
After about half an hour I called across the floor to my friend.
What time is the party?
Twenty-two hundred hours old chap! he replied in a jovial tone, to the amusement of the croupiers.
I started to win. I couldn’t believe how the cards were falling for me. The time flew by and no one was moving.
A fellow in uniform, who looked like the ship’s captain arrived quite late in the casino and had a couple whiskies at the bar.
Ann came across and asked me, somewhat concerned, if he was driving the ship?
Not at the moment, dear, I responded, but maybe later.
She was not amused.
As you have probably concluded, the boys were beginning to get pretty well oiled by now.
What time is the party? shouted my man on the roulette table and I responded accordingly. This carried on hour after hour until long after the party must have been over. During the evening I had accumulated a stock of large-value chips. I have no idea how much I had won but the general consensus was, it was a lot. But long after we had realized that the party was no longer in contention, my luck started to change, and I became way too reckless. Little by little my hard-earned winnings were clawed back until they were no more.
The next day, the Proteas were playing an ODI against Australia. We settled down in one of the lounges and watched Australia score 434 for 4 off their 50 overs, breaking the previous record of 398, 5 by Sri Lanka against Kenya in 1996. In reply, South Africa lost two wickets before they started to build a response. The game became increasingly exciting, with South Africa steadily losing wickets but reaching and passing 400 runs. By the final over, South Africa needed seven runs off six balls to win. Mark Boucher pushed a single. Andrew Hall hit a four. Two required off four balls. He was caught out the next ball. The score at 433, 9. SA’s number 11 batsman, Makhaya Ntini stepped up and smartly hit a single which allowed Boucher back on the crease.
And then the entertainment officers switched off the television and announced that we were moving to the evening’s program!
An unholy howl echoed through the ship before people started to scramble for the stairs and lifts. I hadn’t seen a crowd move so fast before or since. We rushed up to the cabin and switched on the television to hear the commentators enthuse over what had happened. Boucher had hit a four; we had won the match with a ball to spare. South Africa was victorious with 438, 9 and the match was acclaimed as the greatest one-day international ever played.
That called for a celebration and we took on the challenge. As one does!
On the third night, the ship was on course for Durban having spent the day at the Portuguese island.
During the course of the evening, the sea became unsettled, and the ship began to lurch. It became increasingly difficult to make one’s way down the narrow corridors to the cabins, particularly as we were already a little unsteady on our feet by then!
The ship’s officers announced that passengers should return to their cabins and we complied without hesitation.
As we lay on our bed, we could feel that the ship had increased speed dramatically and was bouncing its way through the giant swirls. Looking out of our window, we saw the angry waves rising up and crashing onto the sides of the ship. It was pretty scary given that it was very dark outside, and we were at least ten decks above sea level. As the bow crashed through the waves, we were thrown up into the air and came bouncing back onto the bed.
At around three-thirty in the morning the ship suddenly calmed, and we fell asleep.
At breakfast, the bridge announced that due to the storm, the captain had decided to take the shortest and fastest route back to Durban and that we had in fact docked at three-thirty that morning. They apologized that we had been unable to enjoy our arrival in Durban, an occasion routinely arranged for the passengers to witness from the main deck to celebrate.
No worries, Captain, we said. We’re glad to get back on terra firma! By then, the time for celebrating was well and truly over. It was time for a holiday!