Under a Bugis mast

Under a Bugis mast

Claudine Frederik

The Bugis schooner cut through calm waters without so much as a
sound. Only its main sail creaked at regular intervals when it
swayed slightly under pressure of a mild wind.

It was a beautiful day, the sun was out and the sky shone
azure blue with an electrifying brilliance that stung one's eyes.
Ullie lowered her eyes and stopped peering at the blue expanse
overhead.

They had left Ambon yesterday afternoon. Her father had
finally decided that they should return to Minahasa in North
Sulawesi, where they had a home in the highlands. Ambon had
nothing to offer under Japanese rule. They had no home of their
own and to make matters worse, no income and consequently,
hardly any food.

Those facts had steeled Dad's heart and spurred him to
book passage on the schooner. There were no more regular liners,
he told Mom. Most, if not all of them, were laid to rest on the
bottom of the ocean by the Japanese when they overran the
archipelago.

"But, how safe is a trip on such a boat," Mom sputtered.

"It is just as safe as a train ride," Dad assured her. "Once
we're back in our hometown, we won't have to worry so much about
getting food the next day. We don't have to buy rice, we have our
own rice fields."

Mom nodded in agreement, but she could not dispel her fear
altogether. Ullie could see it in her eyes.

"Lunch time," one of the deckhands-cum-cook called
at her side. He held two plates of warm rice garnered with
several side dishes, and offered Ullie one. It was a tasty meal,
Ullie had to admit quietly to herself. The cook had prepared
bamboo sprouts mixed with chunks of pumpkin in heavy coconut
milk, spiced up with salted fish.

Dad had joined the captain for lunch as he seemed to
be reluctant to leave the helm to the deckhands.

"Will this fine weather last until we arrive at Bitung,"
Dad asked the captain.

"That is hard to say," the captain replied. "The weather in
these parts can suddenly change without warning. We have to
navigate a rough spot in a couple of days when we reach the
island of Mangoli."

He took a long swig from his cup of coffee, drunk without
sugar. For cane sugar was a rarity now.

"What do you expect at Mangoli?" Dad said, unable to conceal
the anxiety in his voice.

"We have to pass a cape. Even with no rainfall, it will be
rough going. You will have the experience of your life very
soon."

With these words, he drew the helm sharper north and directed
Dad's attention to the white caps that had suddenly formed on the
waves.

The sea showed no longer a smooth and calm panorama, the waves
dancing joyfully, for it had started a rousing melody, a robust
song escaping from unruly waters.

Ullie watched fascinated, reaching a hand toward the waves
underneath her.

"No, don't do that," the captain said sharply. "You
could fall in the sea and it will be impossible to find you
then."

Ullie watched the captain more closely. Everybody respected
him, and he always had the last word. Nobody challenged his
words. Even Dad consulted him about everything that had to
do with the trip, like on the afternoon when they were about to
sail from Ambon.

"There is a good wind," the captain announced then. "We are
going to hoist all sails," he told Dad. The main sail was already
up, majestically unfurled on the head mast. The deckhands were
busy undoing the smaller sails aft and ahead. No people saw them
and other passengers off when they set sail at four in the
afternoon.

Dad went up to the captain, clutching a compass in one hand.

"I have a compass with me. We have to head for the North where
Bitung is," he told the captain. The man did not so much as throw
a glance at Dad's compass.

"We don't need your tool. We go by the position of the
stars, they have never let us down. You can put that thing away,"
he told Dad.

When evening fell, the captain called Dad and pointed at a
cluster of stars. "Those will lead us north and eventually to
Bitung," he said.

Ullie looked up again, trying to figure out which stars were
to lead them homewards.

On the third day the wind sagged, and the sails flapped in a
surly pace to the rhythm of the waves.

Nothing could be felt but the hot, humid air. The deckhands
were already lowering and folding up the sails. Without
protection of the sails against a merciless sun, it became
unbearable on deck.

"You all had better go down where it is cool at least," the
captain said.

"Down" was a dark space below the schooner's deck.

Somebody brought a ship lantern and Ullie could see that they
were sitting on reed mats. Mom lay down with her eyes closed.
Suddenly, Ullie became aware that it had become very quiet on
deck. No voices could be heard. As she wondered what could have
happened, the figure of the captain filled the narrow opening to
the schooner's sleeping quarters.

He looked at the sleeping silhouette of Mom and then whispered
to her to be very quiet. "Why, what is happening?"

The captain said quietly not to make a sound so as not to
disturb the passing whales. If they get upset, they may become
curious and come near the boat.

"And that is not advisable," he said. "The
waves these sea mammals make could capsize the boat."

"I'd like to see those whales," Ullie said. "All right, but as
I said, make no sound at all."

She crawled next to Dad who was looking in awe at two gray
floating fields, bobbing, languishing at sea. Male and female, no
doubt. The whales passed some 20 meters from the boat.

After the whales, Ullie discovered a school of dolphins
swimming alongside the boat, making gurgling sounds not unlike
the snorting of pigs. The dolphins accompanied the boat far into
the evening. They seemed to like the company of the Bugis
schooner.

The following day the captain informed them that they were
nearing Mangoli. "We will store fresh water and replenish our
food supply there," he said. "If all goes well, we'll get to
Mangoli tomorrow morning."

He ended the conversation abruptly and strode with quick steps
back to the helm, which he had secured temporarily on a
line.

After an early dinner, the captain lit a lantern keeping
its flame way down. "If we turn up the flame, we will attract big
fish," he explained.

"What kind of fish," Ullie wanted to know.

"All sorts of big fish like sharks, swordfish and many more."

Later in the evening, Ullie saw that the captain was praying
in front of a charcoal fire. The sweet smell of incense wafted in
the evening wind. Ullie wondered why the captain was observing a
ritual, but she dared not ask.

The captain had assumed an aloof attitude. Ullie felt that
questions had to be shelved at this moment. Much later, the
captain explained that he had offered prayers to the sea gods,
for safe passage.

The cool evening air lulled Ullie to sleep. Hours later Ullie
woke up quite suddenly. The boat was rocking dangerously from
side to side. Small drops from the wily sea sprayed her face.

"Ullie go down to your mother and sisters," Dad yelled, trying
to make himself heard above the tumult. Ullie was in no hurry to
join her mother. She made a move halfway to the door leading
downwards then stopped midways to observe her surroundings.

It was pitch dark, but beside the boat she could make out
white foamed wave tops which seemed unnaturally tall in the
shadowy night. Nothing else could be seen or heard, except for
the sound of thunderous claps the boat had to endure
from an angry sea.

The boat made an unexpected move and Ullie tumbled down the
few wooden steps to the sleeping quarters. She clamped onto the
top step and managed to get a better hold.

From this place she could quietly observe Dad and the captain.
Dad had tied himself to the head mast, and the captain held on
for dear life at the helm. He was no longer navigating, he had
surrendered the boat's fate and theirs to the whims of the
elements. Soaked to the bone from sea spray, the captain clutched
the helm in small but strong hands.

The masts were all secured on lines. Ullie wondered what the
deckhands were doing since they were nowhere to be seen.

From behind, Ullie heard her Mom wailing, "Oh God, please save
us, please save us." Mom was on her knees praying and pleading to
God.

The boat climbed each high wave, making a fearsome
cracking sound, then it came down from the crest with an ear
splitting clap.

It had grown little lighter outside and Ullie was shocked to
see how high the waves were. The sea churned in wild abandon
beside the boat which had not stopped its swaying. When they were
thrown upwards once more, Ullie decided to get down with her
mother and two sisters.

Mom's wailing had turned to soft moaning. She was no longer on
her knees. Ullie's two younger sisters were wide awake
but kept very quiet.

Dad came down briefly.

"The captain says that we will soon be out of the cape's
waters," he told Mom to calm her nerves. "It was a nasty
experience, but we have a very good captain. This is not the
first time he has handled such a situation."

At daybreak they reached calmer waters. The boat no longer
shuddered and painfully creaked under the wrath of angry waves.

They anchored off Mangoli and went ashore to find a well
where they could bathe. They were welcomed by the locals, but
Ullie was shocked to see they were practically naked, the men
only wearing loincloths.

The boat departed from Mangoli in the afternoon. The rest of
the trip went by rather pleasantly. Bitung was reached within two
days. The captain sailed quietly to the port of Kema, not Bitung.

Dad had expected a visit from the Japanese harbor authorities
upon arrival, but when nothing happened they disembarked, quickly
finding a bus to the highlands.

Years later, Ullie would remember that difficult trip,
thinking that it would have made for an adventurous sea voyage
but for the fact the country was caught in a war.