Saturday, 050507

Maps.

There is a map of Lake Victoria (about the lake). It has two parts, the Northern Portion and the Southern Portion. It is the only professional navigation map. It was originally made in 1900-01, but until 1955 additions and corrections were made:

Picture: The latest map of Lake Victoria

Last year, we found what is probably the last copy of the Northern Portion on Songoro shipyard North of Mwanza, and the Southern Portion we found in the room of Alex Mchauru, the Marine Superintendent of Marine Services Company Ltd. It runs a large part of the Lake Victoria ferry's to and from Mwanza . The deal was clear: I would scan both maps and provide both the shipyard and and MSC Ltd with the portion they were lacking. Unfortunately our connection at the MSC Marine Superintendent was on travel and nobody dared to give me access to the Southern Portion Map for scanning. At the shipyard our contacts were also out, but there were enough others who liked my proposal. So, after an hour, the Northern Portion, with the entire Uganda coast, was on my laptop in 22 A4 size files. Those have to be fitted impeccably on tenths of millimeters, and then we may still be in for surprise: is the 1900-01 projection in the list of my 2005 Fugawi GPS computer calibrating projections? There is every reason to doubt that.
Sweating of all the problems ahead I went for a beer at Tunza Lodge, a nearby beach resort. Like many compounds in Mwanza its security is supplied by Masaai. They were very curious to see the gadgets of my moving hut but it did not impress them. Proudly, not unlike people from the classical Germanic tribes, they told that at night they simply sleep outdoors next to the objects entrusted to them. But after seeing my slippers, made of car tires, like many Masaai wear (the Masaai at the extreme right of the photo below is wearing them), they were ready to stage a mock defense of my little truck.

Picture: Masaai in mock defense of my truck.

Screws.

Daniel, remember, said to need money for screws. Copper screws. Daniel says they cost TSh 15 000 per box of 100. Jeremia says that is a fair price. We need 50 boxes now, and later another 110 boxes to finish the hull. That makes 16 000 copper screws of 2.5 inch. Then deck and floors will not unlikely require another 8000, though of slightly smaller size. Not a bad idea to personally check the price of copper screws in town.
I found them for Tsh 9600 per gross (a box of 144). That amounts to only 44% of the price quoted by Daniel, thought fair by Jeremia. I could buy "any quantity you want".
Now this often happens to a mzungu in Africa: you ask someone to buy something for you. He (this "he" is appropriate, women are normally not like that) comes back with shopping and even receipt, then seller and shopper turn out to have agreed on a "brokerage" fee to be invisibly included on the receipt. This "brokerage" tradition is so common that a mzungu in town is asked every 15 seconds "what are you looking for". Not long after I discovered the background of that question my answer became "don't worry, I'll find it". The usual laughs of people standing around confirms the wisdom of that answer.
For Daniel this is of no use: he signed for building a dhow for TSh 13 Million. So I do not care for what price he buys his screws. Has it become so much entrenched in the African economy that the ritual was followed anyway? Or was Daniel trying to get an advance for whatever reason he could concoct? [NOTE added half a year later: this turned out to have been the motive, click here] Or does he simply not know the prices of copper screws in Mwanza?
I did some careful research comparing a yard screw with a sample bought in town:

Yard screw left, town shop screw right

Then, I made a quick decision to turn the roles and become a Mwanza screw trader: I would agree to buy screws, for the yard, even as many as they wanted, and sell them to the yard for their own price of TSh 15 000 per box of one hundred. My profit: 125% or TSh 1.6 M for the hull only, roughly another TSh 0.8 M for the deck and floors.
Now my demand of 132 boxes of 144 screws might well pass the limit of what my town shop called "any quantity you want". So I went back, and yes, this was beyond the limit. The Indian phoned to Dar es Salaam. Another 40 boxes of a gross were found there and offered  for delivery within one week, the remaining 92 gross boxes in three weeks, my price would be TSh 12 000 per gross box VAT included. So price went up 25%, to 55% of Daniels screw price, thought fair by Jeremia. But there was a hitch, he added: gross boxes did not always contain 144 screws, and I had to take them as they came, sealed from Dubai. He could not take them back.
This seemed to be the end of my career as a Mwanza screw trader: these might well be the same boxes Daniel wanted to buy, with "grosses" of 100, a cost rise of another 44%, bringing my cost price to 80% of the price quoted by Daniel, thought fair by Jeremia. But then my Indian clarified: a sealed gross box was 144 plus or minus 14, a sealed 100 piece box might contain anything between 95 and 105.
So, I regained courage and decided to stick to my plan to offer any amount of screws to the yard for the Daniel price. Business is risk taking, I told myself, an ex university economist who of course never in his life had sold anything with a profit.
I started with buying the complete stock of the shop for the old shop price of only TSh 9600. Those turned out to be 8 gross boxes. 8 gross is 1152, but I counted 871 screws and paid for 6.5 boxes.
So, on leaving for the next yard inspection with Jeremia I had screws for my first US$ 60 profit in my truck.
After again confirming the price quoted by Daniel and again asking Jeremia whether this was a good price, I made my proposal: I would supply screws to Daniel, and Daniel would sign receipt for the TSh 15 000-a-box-of-100 value quoted by himself as part of my contract payment for the dhow. Jeremia understood the deal, and explained it to a dark looking Daniel. After some hesitation, Daniel agreed. Just a bit later he said he knew a screw trader...I interrupted him and said we did not need any more screw traders. There seemed to be some disappointment but I did not seem to wreak havoc in the project by suddenly entering from an unexpected side. Had there been no "mzungu brokerage" intentions after all? Did they simply not know the Indians I had been dealing with in town? Had they been victims of some obscure trader? Whatever, I decided that it was not a bad idea to squeeze this money out of the project at this stage. It could serve as a nice buffer for when the yard would again get broke before my dhow would be finished.

Once more: the wood.

On a meeting the next morning, Saturday, I summoned Jeremia to call wood trader Hamadi alias Ahmed to make very clear that Wednesday at the latest we needed either wood or our advance of TSh 2.5 Million returned. If not, on Thursday, the mzungu would find him. Then he Hamadi would be free to walk, but only between two strong security men hired by the mzungu, and only to the bank. Hamadi said he now had a train wagon. I did not believe a word of it.
But at 16:30 hrs he called on his own initiative to say the his wagon was part of a moving train that had departed from Tabora at 13:00 hrs, so probably would arrive the next morning, Sunday 02:00 hrs at Mwanza Railway Station, that is day "minus three" where the deadline day Wednesday is day zero. The wagon contained 70 logs of mninga. That would be all the wood we need for my dhow. According to Daniel and Jeremia its value was TSh 9 333 333, that is TSh 6.8 million in excess of our advance to Hamadi.
This meant we could expect the wood to arrive at the yard on Monday. I did not opt for "We waited two months for the wood, now you wait two months for the money". To avoid Hamadi's "You're not unlike me", I immediately called Kees to ask him on Monday morning to release the TSh 6.8 million from the bank just in case the whole story would be true and the mninga of acceptable quality.
There was even in the best of circumstances one problem left, though strictly considered not mine: screws plus wood would cost the yard 12.7 Million. They got 0.5 M already. They signed to build the dhow for 13. No money whatsoever left to do the job (and buy: sail, mast, gaff, all ironwork, anchor etc.).......Or...was the TSh 9 333 333 "wood cost" window dressing for the mzungu? I could not expect myself to have the slightest idea, because Jeremia and Daniel were my sole source of knowledge on what is mninga and what is its price. I asked myself what I would say if someone would visit my dhow and say: "Nice ship, but it is not mninga". For as far my own expertise goes, I realized painfully, such a guy could just as well be right as wrong. So to really know who screws whom most, I should step up vigilance significantly.

On Sunday morning I hear from over the bay the hooting of a long, slow passenger train. At the rear one small cargo wagon. My wood? No. Later that day Jeremia calls: Hamadi says the Tabora train broke down at Isaka, just over the river Manonga while climbing out of the valley and heading to Shinyanga.
How can Hamadi know that? He was on his way to Mwanza yesterday and must be here now. Who is following the train? I resist the temptation to go to the railway station and ask.

Instead, I do some more calculations in an effort at least to find a way to save my yard for insolvency due to my dhow contract. I adjust my computer drawings to the latest modifications, put a grid over it and count again little squares to estimate wood surfaces and volumes needed. If my spreadsheet is right, Hamadi's 70 logs are too much unless the waste of cutting is 46%.
Hamadi's price will make me pay TSh 9.3 M, my screws will cost the yard TSh 3.4 M. I already paid the Yard TSh 0.5 M in excess of the advance for Hamadi. That totals to TSh 13.2 M. The dhow contract is for TSh 13 M including "mast, gaff, sail, anchors and all lines, ropes and metal parts needed for tradional sailing". The yard is broke. Buying from Hamadi at town price saves TSh 2 M. If the yard needs more money to finish my dhow, all that remains for them is to hope for is a lower waste, or selling the waste to who can use it., and my willingness to give them part of my profit on the screws, or else for the sinking away of the Tabora train now stuck in the swamps of the Manonga river.

We look over the bay. Fish otters are on the hunt in the dusk. Kees calls. There is a rumor of a ferry collision on the lake, one was said to have sunk. Quite an achievement, because the lake is as big as Ireland and there are less then 10 big ferries that do a significant distance. Nobody on the Yacht Club knows. Later Jeremia calls me from home. The one that sank is the ferry I came with on my previous visit (I can swim, but I carried a brand new laptop, a new GPS, and a good Yamaha 125 cross motor cycle - for that trip click Illegal).

Monday morning 8:00 hrs

Meeting between Jeremia, Daniel and me at the Yacht club. Despite the heavy rain before dawn my Water boiling method WBM 1.0. proudly yields a full kettle of boiling coffee water.
The gentlemen look utterly discomfited. Hamadi's news was that the train was repaired and back on track to Mwanza, but just before Shinyanga Hamadi's mninga wagon had broken down irreparably and was left behind.
So it just happened to be the very last wagon? I ask ironically.
We agree that this is really unlikely, and if it was not, all wagons behind it should also be standing in the swamp. The stage set for looting by local villagers (or a staged looting by "local villagers").
Hamadi is back in Mwanza. We step in my car and go to him. I expected a fat over-forty guy with the familiar East African thug looks of the most stupid slyness on sale. But is was a young man of Daniels age and an innocent gaze. Yet, I refused to smile while shaking his hand, and told him we were very disappointed and needed wood or money Wednesday at the latest, that I did not care about his latest wagon problems, that he had had more than eight weeks now, and the yard work should start this very week.. Jeremia and Daniel stood by smiling friendly to Hamadi, as if to say: don't worry about this mzungu, we shall talk to him. Hamadi took a paper out of his pocket: the freight certificate of his wagon. So, to my surprise, there really was a wagon stuck in the swamps, whatever it was carrying.
The four of us went to the railroad office. There the news was that Hamadi's wagon was one of the last, but a wagon before his had broken down. The whole train had stopped at the spot to wait for repair. The locomotive now was OK after repair some 30 km up the road. So, the wood could still be at Mwanza railway station on Wednesday, day zero.
Relieved, especially relieved by seeing Jeremia relieved, I rode back to town to drop Hamadi. I ask Jeremia to translate that I am sorry Hamadi does not see me smile, but he will if Wednesday I see either wood on the yard or my TSh 2.5 M returned.
After that, we went back to the Yacht Club to have our financial meeting about the the payment of the next three terms..

Jeremia lengthily explains the proposed payment terms to Daniel while I pour more coffee. In this Kiswahili discussion I hear other types of wood, but it may be the eucalyptus for mast and gaff. Also the enigmatic TSh 9 333 333, the "symbolic" cost of Mr. Hamadi's 70 logs of mninga passes by. Jeremia takes a breath and draws a new table. Then he says: Mr. Bert, Mr.Daniel agrees but he says: if he can buy the screws for a lower price he would like to do that, if not, he can buy from you.
Now what is this? I say with played surprise. I have asked both of you alone and together several times with great stress to confirm that TSh 15 000 was a good price and you never failed to confirm with great stress! In fact, you wanted to buy all screws for that price quickly because they were not always available, but now they were and this was a special offer!
Yes, Jeremia says, it is a good price, but sometimes you may find someone who is cheaper and you buy. 
Yes, I say, and then you make the profit. But I thought you agreed to let me do that business and have the chance of profit and the risk of loss.
Jeremia translates to Daniel. I do not need to wait for an answer to know Daniel is now very eager to take over the screw trade from me. Giving him back the screw purchase might cost me something like TSh 2.4 M, but since now I pay the last term of 3 M after finishing and final testing of the dhow, I decide to limit my career of screw trader to the 871 screws I already supplied with a profit of TSh 60 000., which after all is 4 excellent meals with wine in any of the best Mwanza restaurants.
It is OK, I say.
Jeremia's face shows a subtle smile. In English he says: but then you probably do not want to hear that work on the yard is down for lack of screws....
Indeed, I say. And I want to be out of the screw business completely, so I will not even sell any screws for TSh 15 000 if Daniel cannot find them cheaper. If he likes the chance, then he takes the risk also.
Jeremia translates the message to Daniel
I fill in Jeremia's as yet empty table.

There follows another lengthy discussion between Mr. Daniel and Mr. Jeremia.
Mr. Daniels says, Jeremia says, he would like to change the last two.
OK. I change the order:

OK?
OK.
OK.
We shake hands. Everybody is smiling.
Over are my worries about further blind bids on not returnable Indian gross boxes of screws that are not guaranteed to contain 144 pieces.
And when I see the wood this week, my advance payment will rise to only 60% of the contract sum. It should lead us to a finished hull, roughly worth that money. I will have no more untraceable shillings 400 km South of Mwanza in the Tanzanian forests.
For now, it seems believable that there is wood, though as yet stuck in a wagon on a railroad, 200 km South. Below my TSh 130 650 screw sales to the ship yard, that I bought for TSh 71 000