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The table was set. Glancing at Table Mountain as they prepared to take a bite out of the reckless vessel, the waves grew green with gleeful expectation, wheezing with tufty, cotton wool foam. The clouds scratched at the tops of the mast. The sails were furled, the vessel listed, leaning into the water, looking for salvation there. Those on deck clung to the stays – everyone dreads being washed overboard. Many were in the flooded hold, baling out water. Like a giant firecracker, the wind exploded over the ship again and again.
This is the scene which met Kees van der Weide’s eyes when he made it to the captain’s bridge as the ship listed towards starboard. The captain, as it turned out, was in his cabin, having retreated there as soon as they left the bay, as though unwilling to help t
