”An old ship tale”
by Gabriel Panagiosoulis
In the Indian Ocean, from the Cape of Good Hope.
They knew it was rotten, they knew the engine wasn’t working, they knew we wouldn’t come back, but after we were splashed by the sacred waters of the Ganges River, we were spared.
It was the year 1957 when we managed to go back to Rotterdam. There was a huge crisis, we were greeted with a 50% pay cut and “whoever doesn’t want to leave, we’ll throw them out”.
In the neighborhood of Katendrecht, many Greek sailors without work were begging for a job. Then Germany, Hamburg, half pay.
Saint Pauli, the Golden City in Bremen, the cinema of love in Braque.
A struggle for survival against the establishment.
It’s not so easy to have an untarnished, tender soul, and to be stoned by the ranks of the upper class. No windows would open, no doors would open, no welcome anywhere. With them are the priests, the ruling class, the arrogant.
Once I said I wanted to baptize, to make new Christians. “No, you can’t, you haven’t paid, you’re not a member.”
Even today I avoid the gatherings where priests follow the rich, where ostentation prevails. It creates a doubt, a fear, a brake on my thinking, an insecurity. I feel isolated but free.
I stay silent and I observe.
