Barbary Apes

By Scott Dodgson


I had made a deal with Janice that I would take her as far as Gibraltar. After a night of fitful sleep, I awoke in a fog as thick as the fog covering the great rock of Gibraltar. I would bid her farewell after my coffee and get going after one more night of rest. My yacht was as damp as a wet shoe. Remember this is the first week in May and spring temperatures are still a little fickle. This morning was cold and damp. I called to Janice. There was no answer. After the last four days I wasn’t about to stand on ceremony. I opened her cabin door. She wasn’t there, but the pungent smell of urine was. She wet my bed! Just as my brain started to process the situation she stumbled down the companion way drunk. “You pissed on my bed!” I screamed. I was completely unhinged with anger. I demanded her to pack her belongings and get the hell off my boat. She refused. She claimed to have the right to stay on the boat as long as she wanted. Without saying another word I walked off my boat and directly to the small police office at the end of the dock. The police officers were very kind. I showed them my documents, which proved I was in fact the owner and captain of the boat certifying I had the right to throw her sorry drunk ass of my boat. A few minutes later after some yelling and screaming all from Janice the Bobbies escorted her off the boat to the station. I was free of her drunkenness. I was free from the demons and anger. I was alone and relieved. There is a part of me that felt bad about kicking her off the boat. A note about kicking crew off your vessel: International law states that a captain must provide travel and expenses back to the crew member’s country of origin. I should have kicked her off in the Azores, but giving her a second chance and considering the cost of flying her back to England with expenses Gibraltar made sense since it is British.

After spending the morning doing laundry, washing the bed covers and mattress, inspecting the vessel from top to bottom, I changed clothes and caught a taxi up to the top of the rock. If you visit I recommend taking a taxi up and walking back down through the gardens and parks. I looked West toward Sicily. Wandering through the caves and tunnels of the rock is an amazing experience. The thousands of hours spent chipping away at solid rock to make an impenetrable fortress is impressive. I watched the Barbary apes scurry around the tourists leaping from rock to rock chiding us. They took nuts from the hands of children. The fought for position to get the next handout. Some seemed disinterested and preferred to sit and preen themselves. A small microcosm of social interaction applicable to both man and ape, I couldn’t help equating them to my last crew. Cruel? Only to the apes by comparison. I strolled down the rock as so many captains before me have and went to dinner at the Rock Hotel. Built in 1932 by the Marquis of Bute the Rib Room restaurant is a great place to shake off the brutality of long distance, with its genteel service from a by-gone era, sweeping views across Gibraltar Bay, the Spanish mainland and Morocco’s Rif mountains the food is five star. I can’t imagine a better place to refocus and reenergize. In the morning I would leave this very interesting place and heading to Palermo where I would rejoin my girlfriend/chef for the remainder of the journey to Greece.

http://www.rockhotelgibraltar.com/
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003IPD3CQ Buy the Mental Hygientist for Kindle
www.gibraltar.com