Slightly Bemused: Extraction In Somalia

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Port of Mogadishu, Somalia

Slightly Bemused writes:

Is there something that is the opposite of the ‘Empty Nest’ feeling?

So Little Slightly arrived, and is currently asleep upstairs. Although unobtrusive, I have been aware of her presence, and her moving around, since she arrived. The house feels fuller, somehow, even in the silence of her sleep.

I cannot help but be amused, too. Shortly before she joined us in the world I made a very pleasant trip to a dentist. He was very nice, calmly joked a little and gave me something. When I awoke I had 4 wads of gauze where my wisdom teeth used be. A few days later I had a daughter.

On Monday of this week I wandered down to my new dentist. He was very nice, very calmly joking, and interested in the work I used to do. He would like to do some of it himself, and he has the benefit of youth at this point. When he was done, I had a big wad of gauze where the tooth that has been trying to kill me was. A day later, my daughter appeared through the Arrivals doors, back into my life. Maybe it is something about her. She has never been troublesome for me, not like pulling teeth, but somehow I still have fewer. Hmm.

There is actually a connection between the two events, a not very pleasant one. Although the evening to that point was. On one of my earliest trips I was in charge of off-loading food and supplies in Mogadishu port, Somalia. The port was run by the US military, mostly reservists. A lot of my actual work, when not running up and down the side of the ships, was liaising with them to get berths, time slots, and occasionally organising a tug. Although one tug event was a little unusual.

There were only two berths our largest ship could use. Along the seaward wharf there were officially three berths. The outermost one was usually reserved for naval vessels, such as the absolutely enormous US Navy transports. I mean, seriously, those things are big! I was given a courtesy tour one time, and it was the first time that I saw an engine that was pretty close to as big as my town! Certainly bigger than my house. And that was just the left one.

Anyway, the middle berth could not be used. At some point during the conflict for control of the port, as the government forces fell back, one of the pilot boats for the port was sunk at its mooring. Nobody was certain if deliberately, or just a casualty of war. Pilot boats are small, and can act as baby tugs if need be, but their main job is to bring the pilot out and back from arriving and departing ships. So they are small, and maneuverable. But when sunk to the bottom of the harbour at a key mooring, they can loom larger than their size implies.

A common pub quiz question is ‘what is the difference between a ship and a boat?’ This elicits responses along the line of ‘a ship carries a boat, a boat is carried by a ship.’ This runs afoul of a few issues like when you get the really large transports that can deliver many ships to their ports. The Royal Navy, though, describes it with regard to the centre of gravity. If it is below the waterline, it is a boat. If above the waterline, it is a ship. This is why submarines are always boats.

Before the war, Somalia had been one of the largest exporters of camels and goats, mainly through the port in Mogadishu (above), and during certain times of the year, relating to religious observances across the various Islamic communities, the quay was in constant motion, and a very lucrative business was cleaning the ground and selling the fresh fertiliser to the farmers of the surrounding area. Bananas, melons, grapefruit: incredibly delicious but always prepared as juice with too much sugar. But produce was plentiful in those days.

Across from the port gates, to the side of our imaginatively named Port warehouse, was the local abattoir, where goats and camels met their fate. Here I learned about the Judas Goat. One goat trained to enter the area would lead the other animals in. Hesitant to enter themselves when they smelled the area, they followed one of their own in a trusting manner.

Our cook was a regular there. With the Italian background in Somalia’s past, she would hand make her own pasta each time for dinner. She would also try to get to the butcher’s early to get the best bits. Our office and accomodation was a staging post for people visiting or going up-country. Whenever she knew there were to be guests, she would inveigle a couple of camel fillets, which alongside the fresh pasta in homemade tomato sauce made for a heavenly repast, The fillets would be presented in large oval dishes, roasted to perfection in their own gravy, and sliced.

Those of us who stayed there all the time craved these days for the delicacy. Most days the meat, though plentiful and well cooked, was pretty much random. But when the fillet was presented, we had a cunning plan to keep the mitts of new guests away. We called it ‘snake’ and given the shape and presentation, it was not a hard conclusion to come to. Hands would recoil, and we would tuck in with gusto!

And the little pilot ship languishing in the water used direct the ships in and out as the goats and camels and grapefruits went off to their new homes. But it was blocking important space, and the might of the US Navy was called to bear.

Over a weekend, after the observances of the Friday were past and Saturday morning woke up to another sunny day, two huge cranes were brought in, and set up between the berth my ships normally used, and the back ones. No docking was to take place, as divers and cables delved below, and over the course of many hours and even into Sunday the little boat saw air once more. Lifted onto the back of an awaiting salvage tug, it was shipped down to Mombasa for repairs.

But until it broached the surface once more, that tug awaiting it had little to do. The Captain of one of the big naval transports was offshore awaiting a berth, and he passed on an invitation to the Port Master and the captains of the other ships. I am not sure how I got invited, but the young lady who smiled at me was also there, so it was fun. The Master of the salvage tug brought us out, and we transferred aboard through what seemed like a tiny door in the side of this huge ship. Apparently, this was where the pilots would board and alight, and despite the ‘calm’ seas there was quite a lot of movement between the two vessels.

Now, I have bever been good at running, or jumping, and coordinating the transfer between the ships nearly proved my undoing. I mistimed, foot missed the other ship, and down I went. But for some strong arms on the watch I was in the water between two large chunks of metal. Not good. I did thump my jaw off the gunnel, though, and one of my teeth shattered. Let’s just say that I will not be doing any Captain Jack Sparrow shenanigans.

Later, safely brought back to shore I was brought to the dentist in the military hospital on the airport. A lovely man, who laughed and joked as he poked around to see what was what, it turned out he was a senior orthodontist from Chicago, and was a reservist. So in a tent with open flaps on two sides, the sand blowing in, he took apart the remains of my tooth, rebuilt it, and put to fillings in the back molars, He told me that my wisdom teeth were impacted (pointing forward, not up and down) and this created stresses in the remaining teeth. They would have to come out, and I was warned that I would eventually have to get more work done.

A little over twenty years later one of those molars finally gave up, and so an extraction was needed. A misstep, a mouthful of sand and an interesting story to tell the next dentist.

In the meantime I hear movement, and the house will start to come alive once more.

Slightly Bemused‘s column appears here every Wednesday

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7 thoughts on “Slightly Bemused: Extraction In Somalia

  1. dangerfield

    sometimes find these columns a little twee, which is understandable as they’re memoir material, but this was quite enjoyable. Especially liked the Judas goat detail. Thank you for sharing.

  2. Marbe

    Thank you, again. You add joy to my Wednesdays. Hope yourself and Little Slightly have a wonderful time.

  3. Slightly Bemused

    Thanks guys. Glad you enjoyed it. Been out and about introducing herself t family. Hopefully will sleep well tonight and she will be closer to acclimatised :-)

  4. John

    I enjoyed this one also. It brightened up my Thursday morning. (I had the tab open since yesterday just getting back to it now)

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