I begin my crossing of Saudi Arabia On what my "Arab Gazette" tells me
Is the start of Fifth National Cleaning Week.
It's the start of my third Circumnavigating week
And i've already lost Passepartout.
He's not been allowed to film my journey From the Mecca bypass to the port of Dubai.
On the first day, I see hardly any life Except for the occasional camel
And a filling station where the temperature Registers 122 degrees Fahrenheit.
The desert roads are a driver's dream,
Modern six-lane highways Almost entirely empty.
700 miles later, at Riyadh, The hottest capital on earth,
I rent a car to take me to the Qatari border.
There I am stranded until I get a lucky lift Into the Emirates.
Then it's a taxi to rejoin Passepartout In Dubai at 2.30 on a Monday morning.
I've travelled 1,347.5 miles,
The equivalent of London to the Black Sea, In one weekend.
That I had arrived in Dubai at all Was a small triumph.
I'm even more cheered when I look out Onto a lively and cosmopolitan waterfront.
And, at last, my first sight of a dhow.
I'm told it's only crossword-loving Western Romantics who still call them dhows.
To everyone here, they are launches Or coastal craft.
The dhows are loaded in town with everything From livestock to laxatives.
Best of all, from my point of view, The port seems full of them.
My contact, Kamis, who works at the port,
Tells me the trading season has just resumed After the monsoon.
There are dhows heading down To Somalia and Zanzibar.
And he's found one going my way, too.
Allons y, Passepartout.
Captain?
Hello, good afternoon.
- How are you? - Very well. You speak English?
- Yes. - Good.
- Where are you going to? Bombay? - I'm going to Bombay, yes.
- I need a boat to take me to Bombay. - Oh, yes, why not?
- Yes, why not? - That's confident.
Unfortunately, I also have four other people.
- They come with me. - Altogether five people?
Five of us and a few cases And some equipment.
Tomorrow you bring all your cases And baggage, you bring on the boat.
- When do you leave? - We sail the day after tomorrow,
But you bring your baggage Tomorrow evening.
OK, you ready your baggage.
How long will you take to Bombay? It is important I know.
From here? Only six days.
Six days? You are absolutely sure?
- Yes. - May we have a look? Is that OK?
- Can I inspect? - OK, you come with me.
- Charming gentleman. - Come here all together.
I'd have preferred tomorrow to the day after,
But it's a firm and friendly offer.
This is my cabin, sir. Come here.
This is my bed of the captain.
- And this bed is of the chief officer. - He has a bigger bed than you.
We know who runs this ship, I see!
- We go forward now. - I want to see the guest suite.
By my calculations, these are the only Two beds among a crew of 18.
Maybe this accounts For the friendly atmosphere.
- What's this? What is in here? - The storerooms.
I don't fancy sleeping down there.
- We can, perhaps, sleep out here? - Yes, sleep here. Sleep on the cargo.
Shall we look at the deck?
This is indeed the Black Hole of Dubai.
Sleeping anywhere, Even on sacks of cargo, was preferable.
It's 100 degrees next morning at the world's Largest, probably only, dhow shipyard.
They make reproductions Of medieval European trading ships,
Which is what dhows are.
In England, you'd only see scenes like this In a working museum.
In Dubai, it represents the solid face Of commercial success.
Dhow cargos provided a lifeline for Iran In the recent war with Iraq.
The dhow trade is still flourishing After 500 years.
If I'm to be six days at sea, I'll need to take provisions, but what?
It'll be hot and there are no luxuries Like refrigeration.
Start simple.
I need some rice. I'm going on a dhow.
I need rice for five people for a week.
What is that? Is that basic? It looks like the rice we get at home.
Yes, OK.
Do you want a bag? This one?
- You've got some in a bag! - Indian basmati.
- How much is a bag? - 90 dirham.
- That's good. Is that the cheapest? - No, the most.
- The best? - Yes, best one.
- That's the one from Pakistan. - Cheap, that.
I think I will take a sack of that. How much was it?
- It's 90 dirham. - 90 dirham.
Which is, actually, more than I thought. It's about £15.
I suppose that's all right. £15 for five people.
OK. I need ten dirham change, please.
Thank you.
I hope you like rice!
Preceded by the provisions - Crates of mineral water,
Yards of toilet paper, tins of tuna chunks, Everything the western traveller needs -
I board our dhow, Al-Sharma, Which means candle light in Arabic.
It's my 18th day out of England,
The day Fogg reached Bombay.
Ahead lies an experience Nothing has prepared me for.
As you can see from my outfit, I look like A junior minister on a fact finding tour.
The captain has made sure The place is scrupulously clean.
He assures me the paint work has been Washed not just with ordinary water,
But with drinking water!
It is all very strange.
We are setting off for six days at sea, Out of radio contact,
On a boat with not a lifebelt in sight
And a crew who don't speak English.
We're heading out into the Persian Gulf Where nine years of war are just ending.
No wonder I didn't sleep last night!
Getting rough. Those waves are 1.5 feet, definitely.
The dhow operates almost entirely On human effort.
The only machine on board Is the 280 h.p. British-made diesel engine.
Everything else is done by hand, With everyone helping out.
Teamwork isn't an option here. It's a matter of survival.
(RHYTHMIC CHANTING)
Everyone is terribly keen To make us comfortable.
As protection from the heat, a tarpaulin is Raised above the sacks of dates and pistachios
Which make up the floor Of our first-class deck accommodation.
Captain Hassan, endlessly obliging,
Flags down a passing colleague en route From Bombay for a weather forecast.
- What was that? - This is our company launch.
I was asking to him How the weather is in Bombay.
- He says it's OK, nobody afraid. - Nobody afraid.
- It's OK. - The weather is OK and the sea is OK.
He would say that, wouldn't he?!
They say nobody is afraid. They say it is OK.
- This is our company line. - He's coming back on the same route?
He's coming from Bombay.
Will we see many more ships on the way? Woah!
Please, careful.
- Is that the... You have one other boat? - One more, yeah.
So now we can relax till we get to Bombay?
The weather's good?
Everything is OK. He say nobody afraid.
The sea looks harmless, as though Never a wave broke in anger,
Yet I learned the captain's brother Drowned on this route
When his dhow went down in a storm With all hands lost.
The weather isn't the only danger. We're approaching the Strait of Hormuz.
Assuming we miss the mines From the Gulf War,
We still have to negotiate at night Without lights or radar
One of the most tortuous channels In the world.
Beyond the Strait lies the Gulf of Oman
And four days on the wide unprotected waters Of the Arabian Sea.
I'm trying to get everybody's name.
I want all the names. You write your name, Anwar.
- You're Mohammed. - Yes, Mohammed.
- And you are the father of... - Yes, my son, Anwar.
- I am father. - Anwar is very good, yeah.
And Mohammed, you said... Tell me about Your brothers. You've got three brothers.
Four brothers.
What do they all do?
One is in port in my country.
- The second is in ship. Helmsman. - Helmsman, yes.
- My number three. - You are number three.
Yes, and number four is Captain Hassan.
So, you are the brother of the captain?
It's all wheels within wheels here.
And everyone here Is from the same part of India?
Same country. Manui.
- Yeah? - Manui, our country name is Manui.
- Name is? - Manui.
Will you write down, Anwar, The country where you all come from?
- But you are from Gujarat? Is that right? - Yeah.
The Gujarat part of India. Mohammed, Where did you learn to speak English?
Yes, I was before a sailor on big ship, Tanker ship.
You learnt as a sailor?
British ship. Tanker. Oil tanker.
You went on British ships? So, you've been on long journeys?
- Yeah. - Which do you like best?
A big tanker going to Hong Kong or Brazil,
Or this boat? Which do you like best?
This I like, but big tanker is plenty money.
They pay you more on a tanker than on here?
- Tanker pay? - Tanker pay good?
Very good.
- Is this pay good? - No, rotten!
300 only.
- 300... What would that be? Dirham? - Rupees.
- Indian rupees. - 300 rupees for the journey.
Tanker, you get 1,100 rupees.
Yet you still like it here?
- Yes, I like. - You must be crazy!
- You're crazy, Mohammed! - No, this is good life!
- Yes. - What is so good?
- Why do you like it? - Good climate and all my countrymen.
It's because you've got your son, Your brother, your uncle.
- All your family. - Yes, same family!
Dhow life takes some getting used to.
I must remember that the sun sets fast and Once it's gone there are no electric lights.
That's why I'm making my bed at teatime.
I haven't done anything like this For a long time.
It's all the exercise I get all day.
It's the equivalent to a very short jog...
...for a one-legged man.
There we are.
It may all look a bit odd, But I had to get this in Dubai
In about two hours flat The night before we left.
They don't have camping shops, Which I didn't realise until quite late on.
So, there was a lot of hanging round shopping Malls and going into bedding shops.
All this is a real mishmash.
I rather like my little Embroidered pillow, though.
Very nice, but hardly your butch camping gear.
And... This is an extra blanket,
But it is so hot - it's sort of Above 90 at night as well -
So I think i'll just... Start with that.
Doesn't look too bad.
As long as I don't get a puncture.
(ENGINE STOPS)
Captain, why have we stopped?
Sorry, the plastic bag Is broken of the water pipe.
- The plastic tube in the engine? - Yes. It is broken.
- That's the water that cools the engine? - Yes.
It's hot down there. A blast of hot air.
You put it on like this.
What the well-dressed dhow purser Is wearing in 1988.
- It's back to front. - Is it?
What do you mean back to front?
Oh, it's inside out.
Fashion advisors! See, a whistle.
Very complicated. You have to unscrew this And stick a gas cylinder in
And then it goes... PSSH!
Why are you all putting life jackets On at the moment?
Why are you all putting life jackets on?
They tell me it's just a piece of pump gone.
He's not even putting the life jacket on! He's abandoning ship straight away!
Osman, what is the problem?
- Sharks. - I know there are sharks.
This is the Straits of Hormuz, everybody!
Those metallic things going by are just... Flotsam and jetsam.
(ENGINE KICKS INTO LIFE)
- You had to do it yourself? - Yeah.
- It's finished now. - It's OK? New bit of pipe?
Yes, we had a spare. It is all right now.
You're confident for the rest of the journey?
They said to start it. We go ahead and start.
- OK, sir? - Yes, now it is OK.
- It has worked out. - No problem.
After what feels like an eternity, The engine note builds encouragingly
And the pump begins working again.
What's this doing here? Ah, yes.
A bit more interesting last night.
Pitching and tossing In the middle of the night.
Lots of dreams About testing fairground equipment.
Also much colder. I couldn't find my blanket In the middle of the night.
Went off to the loo, which is quite perilous.
Lose a lot of men overboard that way.
Got the old towel out.
We're not even in the big sea yet. That's promised for 11.00.
I'm quite decent.
So a new pattern of life begins.
Up at first light and a visit to the loo.
The plumbing is basic. They favour the hole in the barrel system.
Using it is nowhere near as alarming As getting to it.
The approach is scorchingly hot by day And suicidal at night,
But once installed, One enjoys direct contact with nature.
This is rather a shock and causes my bowels To lock solid for three days.
Breakfast is over by 7.00.
By 7.30, they are preparing the lunch.
Anwar crushes chillies on a stone slab,
Whilst Ali Mamoun, the cook, washes the rice.
The hut on his left Is not an open-plan dog kennel,
But the galley, from which he produces Three meals for 22 people every day.
Navigation techniques are... Traditional.
Satellite has not yet superseded The sextant and the notebook.
It looks quaint, but it's disconcerting To think our lives depend on it.
Everything about this boat poses the question -
Just how much technology is really necessary?
The Al-Sharma crew Live simply but efficiently.
Everything they do works, which is more Than can be said for living in London.
Back in the captain's cabin, Deyji Ramji begins the slow process
Of transferring from sextant to notebook To a faded British Admiralty chart
The information as to where we actually are.
57.31 longitude.
Resources are limited, but always shared.
Their food quickly becomes our food, too.
Captain, how many people cook? How many people make this?
- Only one people. - Only one? That is Ali Mamoun.
- His name Ali Mamoun. - He's very good.
- Is this rice? - Sag. Sag.
There's sag in there. I know sag. We have sag in England and kasiri.
- Kasiri and sag. - Kasiri and sag.
This Indian piece. Its name is bombula, bombula.
It looks like a bean to me, but it isn't. This is a good piece?
- Yes, good piece. - What will this do to me?
It's a good piece. I buy it from Bombay.
Mmm.
It is from Bombay. Try this.
It is vegetable? It's not meat?
- You like it? - Yes, it's good. It tastes like meat.
- But it's not. Is it a vegetable? - Yes.
- Bomla. Tastes sort of meaty. - Bombala.
- Do you eat meat? - Yes, but not cow.
- Not cow. - Hen. Chicken.
Chicken.
- Sea goat, he goat, but not cow. - You eat sea goat?
- She goat. - Oh, she goat!
Yes, but not cow and not buffalo.
Yes, we are nobody's buffalo!
And the other one is sheep. Sheep is good, uh? You know sheep?
- The other one is sheep. - Sheep.
- Is goat good? - Yes. Drink this in buttermilk.
- We buy it from Dubai. - Dubai?
Put inside the buttermilk and put the kasiri In and eat, OK?
You put a bit of buttermilk in.
A bit like that.
- Buttermilk in, and then... - Put in kasiri.
- Very good. - Mix it all in.
There we are, i've got all the buttermilk In with the kasiri.
- It is cold. - It is cold? Yes?
- I'm turning into Billy Bunter. - Now you eat it properly, OK?
All right.
When I make a noise like Kasim at the end Of it, i'll know i've had a good meal!
- Now you're like Dahwood. - Dahwood is the quartermaster.
Same like him. Tall man!
Tall, rather good-looking man, I think.
Like me.
So good is the food that our tins Of tuna chunks remain unopened.
(CHANTING)
We move agonisingly slowly,
A little over 200 miles every 24 hours.
But I must just get used to not hurrying.
With the last meal of the day over by 5.30,
There is little else to do But prepare for bed again.
The bathroom accommodation, Like everything else, is shared.
It's the kitchen in the morning And the laundry in the afternoon.
The Gujaratis are expert bathers
And they regard my first efforts Highly critically.
(LAUGHTER)
I think it's my towel They are laughing at here.
Eventually, I lose the studio audience,
But not Passepartout, who has the cheek To claim he's shooting the sunset.
Cheek is possibly an unfortunate term, But you know what I mean.
Third day, or is it the fourth day On the dhow?
The pace changes so little, it's hard to tell.
The galley do try to ring the changes And today they're making chips, just for us.
I can't imagine the crew Forsaking chapatis for these
Any more than eating The tuna chunks we offer them.
But there are things they do like.
You put them on like that.
OK?
How is that, Kasim? All right?
Now, prepare yourself for Bruce Springsteen.
It may have a serious effect, but tell me To stop if you don't like it.
You like it?
Good beat?
This must be the oddest audience for "The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle"!
It's good, isn't it?
Tweak the sound up a bit, see what happens.
Unbelievable!
What this man can take!
It's full volume now. Kasim, are you all right in there?!
A lot of saxophone, honking saxophone there!
New Jersey heart-rending stuff, isn't it?
After the Springsteen concert, A different rhythm establishes itself.
Hot, but without urgency.
The sort of day when the sight of a seabird Is a newsworthy event.
So we pass out of the Gulf of Oman And into the Arabian Sea.
As the day grows hotter and the birds fewer,
I dream verses of "The Ancient Mariner".
"Day after day, day after day,
"We struck nor breath nor motion
"As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean."
But we are not alone.
A squadron of dolphins, Probably as bored as us, buzzes the bows.
(WHISTLING CALLS)
(CHANTING)
Kasim gives thanks to Allah For another day safely over.
And by 8.00, I am asleep.
If Allah is still on our side the next morning,
I'll be a few dozen miles Further round the world.
Allah must be in a benevolent mood.
For the first time, conditions are right For the sail to be raised.
Captain Hassan mucks in with the crew, as he Expects the cabin boys and Kasim to do, too,
Although at first Kasim has lighter duties, Such as blessing the sail using incense.
(ALL SINGING)
With their tall T-shirts, carefully packed Trousers and wide smiles,
The crew resembles an eager chorus From a Christmas panto.
The jollity disguises slow, back-breaking work.
Very good!
Amazing.
Quite a feat. Very clever. Everyone knows what to do.
I saw you were doing your bit.
Once the sail is hoisted, I look hopefully over the side
For some tangible proof of its effect On our speed.
It may push us over the eight knots Average - less than ten miles per hour.
Might even bring us early into Bombay.
By now, a city or land of any kind Seems a remote concept.
I miss neither. I am adapting very happily To life on a dhow.
I feel safe, unrushed and, apart from Pistachios in my back at night, relaxed.
Oh, dear.
Well, so much for the idyll.
Last night was a bit Of a long night of the soul.
Lovely night, clear skies, stars, Moon on the water.
Perfect! About three hours into it I was Struck by either Bombay Bum or Dhow Dose.
Something entered my digestive system That wasn't wanted there.
So, I made three trips, no less, To the pulpit over there.
The dhow is busy at night. They're up doing things.
Every time I went by, "Hello, Michael!"
On the second trip, I only just made it in time.
They were having a meal. "Michael, come sit down. Chapati?"
So the realities aren't always Quite as nice as the romance.
Dhow travel can be tough. Oh, dear, Just the thought of a chapati makes me...
...makes me want to go home!
In my state of distress, everything On the boat is tinged with menace.
Is this man baiting a fish hook or preparing For hideous marine surgery?
Is there anything I can do about it if he is?
Oh, if only I'd listened to Alan Whicker!
If I lie still and no one mentions food, I think I can hold out.
Unfortunately, i've chosen a bad day.
We're entering the shallow coastal waters Off India
And food is suddenly everywhere.
(SHOUTING)
What kind of fish is it?
- Gedri. - It's a gedri.
Before was an arbrous.
Arbrous before.
Just my luck, the day I'm off my food. Two of the biggest fish you've caught.
- Chicken of the sea. - That is chicken of the sea?
Today I feel a curious affinity With the chicken of the sea.
It looks as if we're both being dealt with In the same way.
I can't bear it! Argh!
Ohh! This is not for prime time television.
This is for indigestion, I hope he knows.
Walk on the... Argh... Englishman!
I tell you, it's terrible pain! You would not believe!
Being ill and suddenly Kasim Comes and walks all over me!
I think he's going to do a marathon. I think it is 26 miles.
It's all right on the lower part of the leg, But when he gets on the upper part it's...
Argh!
It certainly makes me forget the pain I have!
A dhow is no place to be ill.
There's nowhere comfortable, Nowhere cool, nowhere to hide.
Simple luxuries become appealing, like A decent bed and a room that stays still.
All I want now is for the journey to end And for me to be somewhere else.
Now then, let me put that in there.
There we are. So...
...we've done that bit. South wind. We crossed the Tropic of Cancer again.
We crossed it once in the Red Sea.
So, look, i've got to do all that.
Down there... And right across there.
Just as well I'm not doing it by dhow.
Still... It's Madagascar.
- Have you been? - You can get to Madagascar.
In a dhow? Just a sailboat, no engine?
You've been to Madagascar? That's a long way.
India to Madagascar, how many days?
- Er... 52. - 52 days?
- From sail, sail. - I know, just from sail.
No engine, yeah.
I see, you go down there with the winds, Like the Trade Winds, yeah.
The captain has decided we cannot make Bombay before the customs office shuts.
So I must resign myself and my undisciplined Stomach to a seventh night at sea.
We who boarded the dhow With such eagerness in Dubai
Now strain for a first glimpse of India.
The Indian Ensign goes up as if to reconfirm National responsibilities
After a week of independence.
The mood on board Becomes businesslike and a little tense
As we draw closer To the powerful skyline of Bombay.
The customs officers will go over A dhow from Dubai very thoroughly.
It's the main route For smuggling gold into India.
(RHYTHMIC CHANTING)
The ship's lifeboat, which would have been Totally inadequate for 22 people,
Is lowered, with much helpful advice,
Into waters which give murkiness A bad name.
Time to go. Bye, Suliman. Bye, Suliman II.
Bye, Yusef. Bye, Mohammed.
Goodbye! Bye-bye. Bye, Yacoub.
Bye-bye, Kasim!
Thanks very much! You are very nice people. Very good crew!
I will always sail with you. Thank you!
Anwar!
You carry on. You will be an admiral of the fleet!
I know i've felt rotten and I know we've been Nearly eight days at sea instead of six,
But I am very sad to leave Captain Hassan And his crew.
We trusted our lives to these people and they Responded with generosity and openness.
I know I shall never again on this journey
Enjoy such simple, Straightforward friendships
As I made with the crew of the Al-Sharma.
At this moment, it is almost impossible To accept that i'll never see them again.