Several more sailors shared stories, each presented with a verve and flair that had been lacking from Jonas’ rendition of his shipwreck. Tales of joy and heartbreak. Tales of glory and danger. Tales of elation and despair.
Willy told the story about meeting his wife and trying to convince a woman far out of his league to give him a chance. Roy regaled the group with his experiences hiking the Appalachian Trail. Fitzy shared war stories from his time in the Navy, somehow seeming to involve every brothel in the Far East by his estimation. As afternoon wound down towards evening, the people in the group slowly changed. Some men had to report for duty while others finished their shifts and made their way to the story circle. Jonas even got to meet Ivan, the allegedly crazy Chief Engineer whose bed he’d stolen. Finally, as the sun sank below the horizon, Captain Maxwell brought things to a close with one final story.
“Few years back, the Point Bridge was scheduled to spend a week or so in dry dock for inspections and repairs,” the Captain began. “For some reason, the owners decided to have us do it in Hong Kong that time, rather than back home in the US. Didn’t really impact me, but it drove Ivan crazy, to be sure. He has a hard enough time communicating with us, much less a bunch of Chinese and British shipyard folks.”
Ivan had already left to return to his beloved engines by that point, but the rest of the crew chuckled at the observation.
“Anyway, I’d been stuck on board supervising everything for pretty much the whole time we’d been in dry dock, but I finally managed to get away on our last night in town. Wanted to get away from the port and experience a bit of the night life, but I didn’t know anything about the city. Ended up grabbing a taxi passing by the gates and telling the driver to take me somewhere fun. He insisted, with this great British accent, on taking me to some place I couldn’t possibly pronounce. He said it was where all the best foreigners want to go, and he wasn’t wrong.”
A broad grin split the Captain’s face as he sank into his recollections of that night.
“When I stepped out of the cab I was immediately assaulted by a wave of sound and light. I was overwhelmed, surrounded by people in constant motion. I’d gotten accustomed to the solitude of the high seas, by this point, and most of our ports of call were fairly small, if I even left the ship myself. But of course, no captain who’s braved the Bermuda Triangle or a Pacific typhoon would be put off by something so small as a mere crowd of people. I plunged into the sea of humanity, immersing myself in the chaos. I soon found myself washed ashore in some dark basement club listening to deafening music I’ve never heard before. It was truly ridiculous, but I couldn’t find a way back out through the crowd of youths.”
The crew all laughed at the image of their salty captain in a nightclub with twenty-somethings.
“There I was, run aground on the shoals of drunk kids jumping around and screaming along with the music. Then I spotted him, a great white whale swimming through the waves just ahead of me. This man was enormous, both tall and round, with slicked back blonde hair and a magnificent walrus moustache. He was making his way determinedly towards the back of the club. I weighed anchor and slipped into his wake, sliding through the masses until he reached a door barred by two of the largest Asian men I’d ever seen in exquisitely tailored suits. He said something to the one on the right and the man nodded, stepping aside and opening the door. As he moved to step through it, the man on the left spoke into his ear, gesturing towards me. The man glanced back at me, a considering gaze on his mustachioed face, before nodding and waving me forward.”
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Jonas leaned forward in anticipation.
“We stepped through the door into a short hallway guarded by two more large men in suits who simply nodded at my guide, allowing us to pass into a dimly lit room choked with cigarette smoke. As soon as the doors behind us closed, the thumping beat of the club was fully obscured, leaving only the sounds of muted voices and clicking tiles. The man turned to me, extended his hand, and introduced himself as Russell Johnson, a cattleman from South Australia. I shook his hand and he asked me if I was a gambling man. You all know how much I enjoy a good game of poker, so I agreed and the lunatic just hands me a giant wad of Hong Kong Dollars and says to go have some fun.”
He chuckled at the recollection.
“No clue how much it was, altogether. I was honestly too intimidated to check. I just plopped myself down at a poker table with three American businessmen and a fit young Englishman. I think he might have been a cricket player or something. Anyway, we started playing and after an hour or so, I was up a fair bit. These guys weren’t total amateurs, but most of you boys could give them a run for their money. I’d just started feeling restless when Russell Johnson reappeared and invited me to join him and some friends at a different table to play for a while. I sat down between him and a beautiful brunette with the most delightful Spanish accent. Directing my attention towards the lovely lady, Natalie, I believe, I spent the next several minutes shamelessly flirting. Three well-dressed Asian gentlemen finally joined us at the table, so I returned my attention to the dealer, ready to play some more poker. I was shocked to discover that, rather than a deck of cards, he’s holding stacks of these weird skinny black dominos.”
He chuckled ruefully.
“Apparently, I’d signed up to play a popular game called Pai Gow. The only problem? I had no clue how to play. And it was clear from the beginning that this was a high-stakes table. Realizing that I was playing with free money from my new Australian friend, and not wanting to look bad in front of the ravishing Natalie, I decided to fake it. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? Anyway, I just tried to copy what everyone else was doing, laying down chips, occasionally shaking a dice cup, shuffling up sets of dominoes and laying them down authoritatively. The dealer frequently shifted my tiles around, but he did that for all of the non-Asian players. After playing for an hour or so, I was somehow up by a bit. Natalie had cashed out early but was still sitting by my side, leaning against my shoulder and absent-mindedly playing with my hair. Eventually she whispers in my ear that she wants to go somewhere a bit more private and, discretion being the better part of valor, I immediately agreed. I announced to the table that I had other business to attend to immediately and put all my chips in for one last hand. The men around the table all laughed and we agreed to play one last round. And wouldn’t you know it, I apparently managed to land the best possible combination of tiles right there at the end. I tried to pay Russell back the money he handed me but he laughed and refused, telling me to use it to show Natalie a good time. I turned to her, grinned broadly, and we both nodded. We sped towards the back door that let out in an alley behind the building, tugging each other along in search of a cab back to her hotel. And that’s all I’ll say about the matter.”
The crew laughed uproariously, pleased that their frequently solitary leader did, occasionally, manage to enjoy the company of the fairer sex.
“Now those of you who aren’t about to go on duty need to hit the hay,” Captain Maxwell said. “We’re making port in Venezuela early in the morning and I’m sure that Jonas here is eager to get back to civilization. He might even be ready to put some of his new storytelling knowledge to good use. Everyone had one final laugh before breaking up, with most heading back to their cabins for the night as the ship continued to slice through the warm Caribbean waters.
