Malongo agreed I could meaningfully threaten Daniel with police, and he could help me implement the threat if necessary. To my astonishment, I even appear to hold the cards to have him arrested, something which seems far more easy here than in Europe. Of course it is of no advantage for me to have my contractor jailed, but the guy, almost too stupid to finish my dhow, is far to stupid to exploit that point. Under the threat I could start a plan-and-check exercise book. Every morning and dawn I could make a list of the day's work, the next morning at dawn we make a new list and check the old one. The list, I will tell him, will, in case of defection, be given to police. Step two, under defection, is that I will drive, every morning, at dawn, with a hired 12hrs. per day armed policeman, to lift Daniel from his bed, drive him to his yard, follow the same daily plan-and-check routine with the policeman watching him all day (all associated cost subtracted from final payment).

But no Daniel on Monday. At least not at 10 o'clock. He would be there in an hour, he told on the phone. I told Feleshi to take Daniel on his arrival to his office and call me. This happened. Three hours later. He reported pain under his left shoulder-blade while replacing with the agreed copper screws the thousands of cheap metal ones he had tried to saddle me with.  He claimed to have been to a hospital for injections.
I told him I was advised to go to police now, and had come to see whether this was still avoidable.
Daniel started with an advise to me. I really should believe him: it would not be helpful to go to police. Then, he held a long, vigorous speech in Kiswahili, in which all Kiswahili words for money (hela, pesa and fedha) passed many times.
I told him I had paid the dhow and I would not pay any part of it twice.
My questions as to where is my money and why he had signed the contract were answered by another inspired speech finding its climax in an invitation to help him as a younger brother and pay him more money, so he could finish the dhow. It all sounded clear, low, round and virile, absolutely non-pneumoniatic and void of any awareness he might be wrong some way.
After asking whether younger brothers steal wood and money from their older ones and threaten them with court cases, I told him we were too far apart, that I saw a continuation of this conversation  as useless and would consider my further actions by myself.
From Feleshi's office I went straight to Benedict, foreman of the Nkaka shipyard, to tell him I considered the option of assigning him and Nkaka the job to finish of my dhow. We discussed what, in this option, had to be finished at Daniel's shipyard before launching, and what could be done after towing the dhow to the site of Nkaka's shipyard (the bay of Mwanza Yacht Club and Hotel Tilapia see satellite picture). We agreed on a visit to my dhow two days later, Wednesday. With my lawyer Malongo I agreed to lunch at Tilapia on Thursday, in order to discuss the operation and how to leave Daniel behind. Ending up with a money claim on Daniel would of course have limited value, but may be I could have him forced to work without wage as Benedicts assistant until the finalizing of the boat, and may be even longer. Better both for him and for me than a prison sentence. Better for me, that is, apart from the disadvantage of continuing to see the thug's face.

This should be the rain season: lower twenties temperature and a good shower every day. But it is dry and thirty. The water supply of our house, a water tank on the roof filled daily from downhill by two pumps, is down. I wash off some sweat with mineral water. This failure to discipline Daniel should be the lowest point of the dhow logbook: Benedicts provisional scheme for finishing suggests we firmly kept going parallel inertia.

Graph: at the change of the year, the prospect (45^o upward the last trangle) is to finish some 4 weeks in the fine zone
explanation of graph

Now, I do not only have to add time to the building period, but I also have to add money, maybe up to 30%. This should be the lowest point of my adventures in dhow building, but strangely enough, it isn't. Probably because now I can again make a move after a long time of mainly waiting. And the "Grand Finale" operation has of course not been in vain. Work has been done, though expected delivery moved backward at roughly the same speed. Thus we moved roughly parallel inertia (explanation), with a notable "no-delay (Gabriel!) segment" along the fine line the month before Christmas. In the last three weeks, the added affect of the unexpected lack of stiffness, which will cost us extra time, clearly pushed us down. The latest white triangle points firmly at end of Februari. But this involves another shipyard, with more know how on large ships and brains somewhat better equipped for planning and understanding drawings, schemes, schedules and budgets. Hence hopefully a better life for me as a customer in hope of some time sailing with that woodchunck. A bit less Africa. You can, I now experienced, get more of it than what still is amusing. Of course I can say I learned a lot from it, but I feel I am approaching the dignified age where learning should be relegated to the youth.
After I had left meeting with Daniel I got an increasing number of phone calls from him. I did not answer and set my cellphone to suppress the ringtone for his number. The next day, Tuesday even Gabriel started to phone me, with the old cellphone I had given him as an appreciation for his work, feeling sorry for the gift after he had disappeared, seemingly for good, some days before Christmas. So Gabriel was also moved in the "no ringtone" section of my cellphone. Then, the same day, a call from saw mill manager Feleshi. Gabriel is back!
Well Feleshi, why do you think that for that to happen I should threaten to bribe the police into action first?
Feleshi clearly just wanted to bring the good news, probably to have it at least partly on his account and ignores my reply.
Next, Wednesday, is for a detailed inspection of the dhow with Benedict, in order to make a budget for finishing it at the Nkaka shipyard. The crowd, I warned Benedict, at the shipyard will stand anxiously around us, but we say nothing has been decided, I have myself advised, and this is and inspection. I could not have been closer to the truth. At the port side some small bad parts of hull planks are cut out, leaving small holes. Benedict and I had climbed inside and were sitting there, measuring every beam and plank that had to be added to finish the dhow, while black fingers held themselves in the small holes and white eyes in black faces peeped through it.
The next day, Thursday, Benedict had finished his calculation just before I would meet lawyer Malongo in hotel Tilapia. Finishing the dhow would cost TSh 5 000 000/=. Given the present state of payments that would mean my dhow would go up 33%, from Daniels contract sum of TSh 13 000 000/= to TSh 17 500 000/=. Still not a price to kill me: Euro 13 000/=, or 9% of the very cheap house I sold when I left Europe, but painful because it will remind me of simply having allowed myself to be cheated for an amount equal to a 4 years salary of a well above modal income earner in Tanzania by a quite low-on-brains nigger, a guy I ought to be able to cheat much better than he me, obviously a lasting damage to my ego.
To prepare for Malongo, I had made a Report concerning defection of contract, and a draft agreement for the handover of the dhow in which Daniel's debt would be mentioned to be dealt with later (of course I did not expect to see any money, but I thought it wise to maintain the claim in order to keep Daniels tone as low as in his incredible case is achievable). Malongo, who turned out to have been one of my students nine years ago at the Philosophy Centre Jinja, Uganda, he even remembered the subjects, assured me if Daniel would become able to pay, even for the law my claim would have no chance after a handover. We decided to go ahead anyway and he made me a legally sound Kiswahili version of the agreement.
Then I went back to Benedict to make the list of jobs to do before launching the dhow from Daniels shipyard and tow it two bays Southwards to him.
On Saturday I went to Daniel's shipyard to force him to sign the agreement. Would he accept, as Malongo believed? Would I have to threaten with police? Would I need Malongo's police connections to stage a real police-arrest?
On arrival, this was what I saw (compare to the state four days earlier):

Photo: Gabriel at work: in four days 7 low hull stiffener beams bolted, every other main deck beam with all stiffener-supporter starboard and two supporter port (job includes sawing, fitting and fixing)

The entire shipyard was in feverish action. And all hands were on my boat. The three other small dhows in progress were standing deserted.
Look what we have been doing! Gabriel cried.
Daniel, fixing stiffener beams, did not even take time to greet me.
I felt the agreement for handover, rolled in a rubber band, in my pocket.
It seemed I had already taken over. I decided to keep the paper where is was, at least for now. Why not take charge and keep full contract responsibility with Daniel? The best of all worlds! I simply started to discuss the list I made with Benedict of jobs to be finished on this yard with Gabriel. Determining the sizes and amounts of bolts, nuts and washers we need, Gabriel proposes to buy just a few at the time, because the calculation is too difficult.
Don't worry, Gabriel, I have brains.
Gabriel is prepared to trust my calculation of quantities of the different sizes of bolts, and is completely reassured if I tell him he can leave me in charge of remembering which bolts are bought for which places. We agreed on a line of action, and late afternoon bought an TSh 80 000/= log to cut for Monday's jobs, leaving me broke for the weekend.
Next day was Sunday. Gabriel needed to bring his children to school and plead for postponement of schoolfee payments. He would be back Tuesday, maybe Wednesday.
If I see you Tuesday morning I pay your travel, I told Gabriel.
He agreed and promised to be back..
All the others should be back on the yard Monday morning seven o'clock (saa moja, pronounce "modzja") I told them, all together, then one by one, with a not too serious face but overacting the spreading of my eyes. Everybody promised.

Sunday. Confused by the situation I was lying on my bed. In the evening I got hungry and got a meal on credit in my favourite restaurant.