Llama for Lunch by Lydia Laube

groaning and sighing. It had the lot. After this came a cartoon, every word of which I also understood. Three minutes of biff, crash, bang, wallop, were followed by ‘Ah Buena!’
    The day that followed was a busy one for me. It included a nap before and after lunch and a two-hour chat with the captain. Wojciech was such a charmer and he loved to talk. I had a standing joke with him about the letter of complaint that I was writing concerning the ship. This came about after he saw the list of rules for passengers that I had been given by the ship’s agents. They intrigued him no end as he’d never seen or heard of them before. He was especially amused by the stern warning that passengers must wear only slippers in their cabins.
    I finally mastered the washing machine. I’d had a big argument with it when it wouldn’t give me back my clothes after finishing the wash. Eventually one of the sailors came by and told me its secret. The machine needed to be left alone for a little quality time with my clothes before it felt inclined to release them. Maybe it had formed an emotional attachment to them.
    And I learned to ride the exercise bike. Hurrah! a bike that was safely anchored to the floor and couldn’t throw me. I had mentioned to Wojciech that I needed exercise and, voila, he ordered a crew member to bring forth the bike and harness it in the TV room. It felt weird to be riding a bike while looking out of a porthole at a pitching, rolling sea. Even though I was pedalling madly, the up and down motion of the waves made me feel that I was riding a horse. The bike behaved admirably for several days but then it took to groaning and making complaining noises. I don’t know why – I was doing all the ruddy work.
    I did my daily Spanish lessons and argued a lot with Carlos, the person on the tapes. Lord, he was thick – and I was heartily sick of him. Then I acquired a deck chair. At lunch I told Wojciech that there was class distinction on his ship. The deck above me had a plastic chair and I didn’t. A chair was produced but I failed to use it that day because I was too busy mastering the video machine (I hope this doesn’t get around). After an hour of swearing and pressing all the buttons I could find I watched Shakespeare in Love . Absolute drivel but nice clothes.
    Wojciech told me some terrific stories about the drugs that had been planted on ships in South American ports. Once on this ship, before he was captain, the crew had noticed that a container picked up in Columbia wasn’t correctly sealed. The drug authorities were notified and they found a large quantity of heroin. The captain was taken ashore and arrested, despite the fact that it was he who had actually notified the police. Another time someone was seen swimming in the water near the ship. The police were called and a bag of drugs was found to have been attached to the hull with a magnet. Again the captain was arrested and this time the engineer was also arrested for good measure – the authorities said that underneath the ship was his department. They were held for two weeks. You’d hope that they learned to stay clear of the constabulary from then on.
    Wojciech said something that expressed a feeling I’d often had, but never put into words. I had told him that I liked to hang over the bow or the prow to watch the water foam away from under me. He said, ‘When you do that and you look down and stare for a while, does the water call to you? Does it call to you to join it?’ I knew exactly what he meant. The water has always called to me. Not that I want to drown – it is just a consciousness that you want to be one with it. When I said, ‘Yes. It calls to me.’ Wojciech replied, ‘Ah, you are a romantic.’ Funny, I never thought I was.
    Out on deck that night, in the delicious warm, velvety dark, there was no moon and the sides of the ship were not lit. I watched great sheets of lighting flashing close on one side accompanied by clashes of