19
19Raj waved goodbye from the crowded passenger shelter at Naxos ferry port. As Day and Helen watched from the road, the ferry came into sight and made its well-practiced turn in the calm waters of the harbour. Sounding the horn to signal its approach and manoeuvre, it slowed, turned, and reversed to the quay, beginning to lower its ramp long before it touched dry land. Inside, beyond the white shirts of the crewmen and the blue dungarees of the engineers, foot passengers began jostling to escape. The sound of engines already throbbing in the ship’s dark interior warned of the forthcoming competition between vehicles and pedestrians in the race to disembark. As usual, despite the thick, foul-smelling smoke of the reversing thrust, everything was accomplished with remarkable good humour.
