I am now, as I started to call it,  "drying" the ship yard. First, there was no power in the saw mill. Then the saw ribbon broke. Then we urgently needed money to buy 600m² of sail cloth (which we did not get, click for that on Euclides). Then the planks to finish the hull were cut, but the saw mill's planing machine's adjustment system got out of order. Of course we do not go to another saw mill, the customer can wait. Until, until of course you are really thoroughly, thoroughly broke and you start to long desperately for the money advance to get when you hve finished the bloody hull. That is when I call the yard "dry", and I expect it will start working again at that moment. Phase 1 is to go there every day, look at the unchanged dhow and parting again, shaking warm hands. Sorry, new cash only after the job paid for is done. Phase 2, I have little doubt we shall have to go through it, is gradually staying away longer, excusing yourself when you coming, saying you are very busy and forgot about the dhow. Meanwhile sharply monitoring progress on other boats next to mine, if their is any, find their clients, tell then about your problems and ask them whether they experience the same, hoping they will also start to be more careful with their money advances.

Picture: Old and new organization chart of dhow building

Meanwhile I should reorganize dhow building. Kees role, of course, is reduced to dubious debtor. Jeremia is kicked out of the comfortable role of earning the rich mzungu's money and the yard's gratefulness (and likely also indebtedness) by bringing the two together. I will tell him from now on I will call him when I need him and pay for every "consultant" service piece by piece.
Divide et empera, so, I now strip Jeremia of his translator role. This should become me, translating myself (talking Kiswahili is still too big a word for it), and another person to help me, also paid per hour of service.
For that job, my mind spontaneously set itself on: The General.
It is me who calls him The General. He laughs about it. He has been an army officer all his life. Now he is retired. I met him when I got stuck after having dug one of my rear (driving) wheels deep in a steep maram road up Isamilo hill. He helped me out with an ingenious combination of jacking up wheels in a specific order and putting stones in the holes under the wheels, assisted by the young men passing. Particular impression, however, made the chemistry between me and The General when it came to divide the ten dollars (one TSh 10 000 bill) I drew to pay the helpers. Of course I tried to make my life easy by handing over the money to The General. He accepted the job, quickly kicked off his chest those who just pretended to have assisted, then had the others lined up, and counted. They were ten. I gave him an eleventh dollar to leave the TSh 10 000 to the one who seemed to be in authority over the remaining nine, offered him a lift and we quickly left the tumult of the ten guys crowding around the TSh 10 000 bill. His English was of record quality among the Tanzanians I thusfar met. It seemed clear to me I needed this man to boost the drying process of the yard. His task as a translator would be an ideal cover. May be he could help me find other clients of the yard if these were still wetting the yard with money.
And the rest of the day I should learn Kiswahili, Kiswahili, Kiswahili. I have now finished the first half of the book, the second contains verb declensions absolutely essential to state conditions, to express something is finished or still to be finished, and much, much more that I need to successfully play the dhow yard game. I also consider the general as a serious candidate to become my conversation teacher.

Meanwhile not a plank was added to my dhow in ten days. Power cuts, broken saw ribbon? I stopped believing it. Also, I feared Daniel would sell my remaining mninga logs for other needs. But when that day I did not find him on the yard, the saw mill manager confirmed the stories of power and saw ribbon, and showed me the store of my logs. Daniels "work" reports clearly are more relyable than his sail surface estimates.

I painfully remember that fifteen months ago my banda at the Source of the Nile had frozen in a state similar to the present freeze of my dhow. Even the delay was roughly the same at the time when I decided to retire from the banda project.

Next on Drying