Either I was on the smoothest boat ride that I had ever experienced or when I awoke we hadn’t left port. What do you think, kids? I sat up and there was confirmed the awful truth – I had just spent a night cramped in a damp corner on a greasy bit of foam in the floating equivalent of Mary’s Mum’s house for no reason whatsoever. I could have stayed at the Jambo, got a shower, hung out with some backpackers… but no. This Is Africa. And it is Africa’s job to make you as uncomfortable as humanly possible.
So would we be gone by 12 noon? Possibly. I gave my phone number to the first mate – if you’re going to leave, call me. I went to get those damn tapes. I got them, hurried back to the boat – I ran! – but (of course) it was going nowhere.
I spent the day reading until finally – at 6pm, the engines are finally put into gear and we leave. It’s not good when you feel seasick before you actually get anywhere the sea.