The day in Mindelo had been tiring, hot and humid thus demanding a shower and a visit to the
Observatory Bar for cooling gin and tonics. Comfortably settled with the lap top and sunset to the fore
Almira arrived on cue.
"Hello sir Nicholas, a gin and tonic sir Nicholas?"
"Yes please."
A peel of extravagant laughter interrupted the reverie and, looking up, its source was located. None other that Mr Boring the barrister who was arriving at the next table with wife and friends. For the next hour he held court telling his complete repertoire of jokes and amusing anecdotes from the wonderful world of law. It was especially lucky that he was there as without his laughter it would not have been clear that the anecdotes were amusing. After every tale or joke he laughed with a high, braying note. The couple that they had persuaded to join them at their table were struggling to smile politely and his wife sat looking as amused as Queen Victoria at an Eminem concert.
"Another gin and tonic sir Nicholas?"
"Not this evening, thank you Almira."
"Oh dear sir Nicholas."
A glance towards the Man Who Laughs at his Own Jokes and Almira smiled. "OK sir Nicholas - see you tomorrow."
"Oh, I do hope that we don't appear in your journal," said Margaret.
"Quite," added Lorna and James just smiled.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
Flying fish were to be seen by the bow, gliding to safety away from what they perceived to be a giant predator. Round the bow and along the port promenade for the fifteenth time and then, beneath a sun lounger huddled a dull brown bird with webbed feet sticking out behind. A petrel of some kind, perhaps. They fly towards ships and become dazzled and confused by the light, crash onto the deck and are then unable to take off. Their legs are set back on their bodies, almost like penguins so they cannot run to take off. They nest on ledges from which they fall into flight and can land and take off from the sea but not from the deck of a ship. The sorry pile of feathers was no larger than a thrush. On, around the stern and back up the starboard promenade to the Twitchers.
"Geoff, there is a small brown bird on the port deck, a petrel maybe."
"Ah, thank you, that will be a storm petrel, probably Leach's. I'll come round and have a look." On the way another one was found.
"I didn't spot that one."
"Entomologists are always looking down at their feet while you birders constantly look to the sky."
"Or sea."
"Indeed."
The bird gave up its secrets in his hands.
"Hello sir Nicholas, a gin and tonic sir Nicholas?"
"Yes please."
A peel of extravagant laughter interrupted the reverie and, looking up, its source was located. None other that Mr Boring the barrister who was arriving at the next table with wife and friends. For the next hour he held court telling his complete repertoire of jokes and amusing anecdotes from the wonderful world of law. It was especially lucky that he was there as without his laughter it would not have been clear that the anecdotes were amusing. After every tale or joke he laughed with a high, braying note. The couple that they had persuaded to join them at their table were struggling to smile politely and his wife sat looking as amused as Queen Victoria at an Eminem concert.
"Another gin and tonic sir Nicholas?"
"Not this evening, thank you Almira."
"Oh dear sir Nicholas."
A glance towards the Man Who Laughs at his Own Jokes and Almira smiled. "OK sir Nicholas - see you tomorrow."
----OOO----
Conversation over dinner turned to anecdotes about fellow passengers and a brief description of Mr
Globe was offered as a contribution."Oh, I do hope that we don't appear in your journal," said Margaret.
"Quite," added Lorna and James just smiled.
----OOO----
The morning came too quickly with sleep becoming impossible after 4:30. Some reading and then up
and onto deck. The heat, even at 5:30 was like a wall. The temperature was already in the seventies
and humidity so high that the decks had not begun to dry from their nightly hosing down. Three
quarters of an hour of walking on the dully lit deck and it was time to read some more. Dawn was
going to be at 07:15 so back on deck in the pre dawn light at 6:45. The Twitchers were out with their
basket of breakfast and themes mugs off coffee.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
Flying fish were to be seen by the bow, gliding to safety away from what they perceived to be a giant predator. Round the bow and along the port promenade for the fifteenth time and then, beneath a sun lounger huddled a dull brown bird with webbed feet sticking out behind. A petrel of some kind, perhaps. They fly towards ships and become dazzled and confused by the light, crash onto the deck and are then unable to take off. Their legs are set back on their bodies, almost like penguins so they cannot run to take off. They nest on ledges from which they fall into flight and can land and take off from the sea but not from the deck of a ship. The sorry pile of feathers was no larger than a thrush. On, around the stern and back up the starboard promenade to the Twitchers.
"Geoff, there is a small brown bird on the port deck, a petrel maybe."
"Ah, thank you, that will be a storm petrel, probably Leach's. I'll come round and have a look." On the way another one was found.
"I didn't spot that one."
"Entomologists are always looking down at their feet while you birders constantly look to the sky."
"Or sea."
"Indeed."
The bird gave up its secrets in his hands.
"See, the forked tail and white rump. The Madeiran Storm Petrel is the only other member of the group
with a forked tail but it's not nearly so pronounced and, of course, this species has the white rump."
Sally, his wife photographed the forked tail, the white rump and the head. Geoff held the bird out over
the rail on the palm of his hand. Reluctantly it shuffled over the edge of his hand and plummeted
towards the sea - tiny and frail looking. At the last moment it stretched out its wings and took flight.
Geoff turned to continue to his vigil.
"That wasn't the one - it's further up the deck."
"Oh right, sorry. The others that have become aboard have come over the stern. I hadn't expected any on the beam let alone two."
The original bird was still huddled under the sun lounger. It too was a Leach's Storm Petrel.
This was recorded. Ten minutes later another was found, picked up and duly presented to the recorders.
"That wasn't the one - it's further up the deck."
"Oh right, sorry. The others that have become aboard have come over the stern. I hadn't expected any on the beam let alone two."
The original bird was still huddled under the sun lounger. It too was a Leach's Storm Petrel.
This was recorded. Ten minutes later another was found, picked up and duly presented to the recorders.
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