One day we came upon trash. First the water glistened withpatches of oil. Coming up soon after was the domestic andindustrial waste: mainly plastic refuse in a variety of forms andcolours, but also pieces of lumber, beer cans, wine bottles,tatters of cloth, bits of rope and, surrounding it all, yellowfoam. We advanced into it. I looked to see if there wasanything that might be of use to us. I picked out an emptycorked wine bottle. The lifeboat bumped into a refrigerator thathad lost its motor. It floated with its door to the sky. I reachedout, grabbed the handle and lifted the door open. A smell leaptout so pungent and disgusting that it seemed to colour the air.
Hand to my mouth, I looked in. There were stains, dark juices,a quantity of completely rotten vegetables, milk so curdled andinfected it was a greenish jelly, and the quartered remains of adead animal in such an advanced state of black putrefactionthat I couldn't identify it. Judging by its size I think that it waslamb. In the closed, humid confines of the refrigerator, thesmell had had the time to develop, to ferment, to grow bitterand angry. It assaulted my senses with a pent-up rage thatmade my head reel, my stomach churn and my legs wobble.
Luckily, the sea quickly filled the horrid hole and the thingsank beneath the surface. The space left vacant by thedeparted refrigerator was filled by other trash.
We left the trash behind. For a long time, when the windcame from that direction, I could still smell it. It took the sea aday to wash off the oily smears from the sides of the lifeboat.
I put a message in the bottle: "Japanese-owned cargo shipTsimtsum, flying Panamanian flag, sank July 2nd, 1977, inPacific, four days out of Manila. Am in lifeboat. Pi Patel myname. Have some food, some water, but Bengal tiger a seriousproblem. Please advise family in Winnipeg, Canada. Any helpvery much appreciated. Thank you." I corked the bottle andcovered the cork with a piece of plastic. I tied the plastic tothe neck of the bottle with nylon string, knotting it tightly. Ilaunched the bottle into the water.
Hand to my mouth, I looked in. There were stains, dark juices,a quantity of completely rotten vegetables, milk so curdled andinfected it was a greenish jelly, and the quartered remains of adead animal in such an advanced state of black putrefactionthat I couldn't identify it. Judging by its size I think that it waslamb. In the closed, humid confines of the refrigerator, thesmell had had the time to develop, to ferment, to grow bitterand angry. It assaulted my senses with a pent-up rage thatmade my head reel, my stomach churn and my legs wobble.
Luckily, the sea quickly filled the horrid hole and the thingsank beneath the surface. The space left vacant by thedeparted refrigerator was filled by other trash.
We left the trash behind. For a long time, when the windcame from that direction, I could still smell it. It took the sea aday to wash off the oily smears from the sides of the lifeboat.
I put a message in the bottle: "Japanese-owned cargo shipTsimtsum, flying Panamanian flag, sank July 2nd, 1977, inPacific, four days out of Manila. Am in lifeboat. Pi Patel myname. Have some food, some water, but Bengal tiger a seriousproblem. Please advise family in Winnipeg, Canada. Any helpvery much appreciated. Thank you." I corked the bottle andcovered the cork with a piece of plastic. I tied the plastic tothe neck of the bottle with nylon string, knotting it tightly. Ilaunched the bottle into the water.