Pick up slack on spring lines,Shiva - NOW. Vessel all fast 0830 hours!!!
My Captain from Syria was steaming like a kettle on the walkie takie.
We were racing against time. The weather couldn't have been better at the seaport of Iquique (Chile), which is otherwise bone-chilling during winters. The Cirrus clouds were just about enough to add a tinge of white in the brightly lit sunny sky.The sheltered waters of the port lay still and calm, tempting any gangster to dump a weighted corpse for the mere pleasure of enjoying the parabolic ripples float across the surface of the water. But even Paradise cannot tempt a seafarer to enjoy its serenity. Not when you have to load 30,000 tonnes of copper ore in less than a week.
Once cargo operations commenced, I slogged like a blood hound for the rest of the day, as I saw granules of ore slipping out of the grasp of the colossal grabs which were loading our cargo holds.
It was 1600 hours, when I stepped out of the gangway to go ashore for some fun. The stevedores gave me directions to a local bar which was a prime hangout for seafarers going ashore. It took me barely 10 minutes until I reached an old wooden shack.
Iquique is not the kind of a place where you would find people flauting their Gucci's or girls feeling breathless without a prada. The place had a peace and quiet of its own, with the local folks living their lives as simple as it could get. As I sat on the bar stool and ordered for a cold coffee, I felt this pulsating urge to lock my eyes on the girl across the table as she licked the froth off her lips while sipping on her mug of beer.
Her brunette hair was a perfect blend to the wooden decors in the backdrop. An ebony black t-shirt draped her voluptuous curves as magnificent as the Cordilleras. Her denim skirt was the last piece of jigsaw that completed her persona with her chestnut brown eyes.
I tried not to give her the awkward stare and focused on sipping my coffee. A near impossible feat!
As much as I tried, It was a rather herculean task to walk up to her and offer her a drink. Apart from the excuse of being exceptionally shy, I tried not to ruin the perfect moment of having the pleasure of being glued to her presence. In all probability, this was the first and last time I could be looking at her.
I finish my drink and walk out before taking one last look at her.
I visit the same bar the following day having promised myself to get sloshed until I - WAIT A MINUTE!!!
She was right there. Sitting at the very same spot she was chilling out. With a woman like her, who needs intoxication?
I ordered the same damn cup of Cold Coffee that was sure to keep my eyes wide open. The drill however, wasn't any different. I would look at her from the corner of the eye, just like how Agent Ethan Hunt would do so while tailing a suspect. It felt so fulfilling already!
The same routine continued for the next few days until I asked myself while sipping my coffee, "Is there a chance she is actually waiting for me every single day just to get a glimpse of me?".
I almost spat my coffee in laughter realizing how crazy a thought it was. Of course I don't mean to say I look obnoxiously ugly, but I am no prince charming either. Besides what are the possibilities of a charming and destructively hot latina to be hung up on an Indian seafarer whose current attire makes him look like a runway prisoner?
I wipe the coffee off my lips when suddenly -
Hii..I see you come here since few days. Where you from?
It was her!!!
I lock my gaze into her eyes as my pupils automatically focus into hers.
(To be continued)
My Captain from Syria was steaming like a kettle on the walkie takie.
We were racing against time. The weather couldn't have been better at the seaport of Iquique (Chile), which is otherwise bone-chilling during winters. The Cirrus clouds were just about enough to add a tinge of white in the brightly lit sunny sky.The sheltered waters of the port lay still and calm, tempting any gangster to dump a weighted corpse for the mere pleasure of enjoying the parabolic ripples float across the surface of the water. But even Paradise cannot tempt a seafarer to enjoy its serenity. Not when you have to load 30,000 tonnes of copper ore in less than a week.
Once cargo operations commenced, I slogged like a blood hound for the rest of the day, as I saw granules of ore slipping out of the grasp of the colossal grabs which were loading our cargo holds.
It was 1600 hours, when I stepped out of the gangway to go ashore for some fun. The stevedores gave me directions to a local bar which was a prime hangout for seafarers going ashore. It took me barely 10 minutes until I reached an old wooden shack.
Iquique is not the kind of a place where you would find people flauting their Gucci's or girls feeling breathless without a prada. The place had a peace and quiet of its own, with the local folks living their lives as simple as it could get. As I sat on the bar stool and ordered for a cold coffee, I felt this pulsating urge to lock my eyes on the girl across the table as she licked the froth off her lips while sipping on her mug of beer.
Her brunette hair was a perfect blend to the wooden decors in the backdrop. An ebony black t-shirt draped her voluptuous curves as magnificent as the Cordilleras. Her denim skirt was the last piece of jigsaw that completed her persona with her chestnut brown eyes.
I tried not to give her the awkward stare and focused on sipping my coffee. A near impossible feat!
As much as I tried, It was a rather herculean task to walk up to her and offer her a drink. Apart from the excuse of being exceptionally shy, I tried not to ruin the perfect moment of having the pleasure of being glued to her presence. In all probability, this was the first and last time I could be looking at her.
I finish my drink and walk out before taking one last look at her.
I visit the same bar the following day having promised myself to get sloshed until I - WAIT A MINUTE!!!
She was right there. Sitting at the very same spot she was chilling out. With a woman like her, who needs intoxication?
I ordered the same damn cup of Cold Coffee that was sure to keep my eyes wide open. The drill however, wasn't any different. I would look at her from the corner of the eye, just like how Agent Ethan Hunt would do so while tailing a suspect. It felt so fulfilling already!
The same routine continued for the next few days until I asked myself while sipping my coffee, "Is there a chance she is actually waiting for me every single day just to get a glimpse of me?".
I almost spat my coffee in laughter realizing how crazy a thought it was. Of course I don't mean to say I look obnoxiously ugly, but I am no prince charming either. Besides what are the possibilities of a charming and destructively hot latina to be hung up on an Indian seafarer whose current attire makes him look like a runway prisoner?
I wipe the coffee off my lips when suddenly -
Hii..I see you come here since few days. Where you from?
It was her!!!
I lock my gaze into her eyes as my pupils automatically focus into hers.
(To be continued)
Simply superb...
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