The 'Cousins'

Part Thirty-Seven: Greg's Youthful Remembrances

 Warning: This chapter is not for the young or those who are adversely sensitive to gay action.

Timeline: Thursday 19th April, Greg is sleepless and is haunted by memories of his youth, which he had kept locked away in his head.

The moon crept out slowly from behind a rain cloud bathing the room in a silvery glow. Greg looked around the space, at its bare, worn appointments and wondered if rough, impersonal motel rooms were now to be his home.  He felt alone and a need for a companion. Not any companion, but somebody he could trust implicitly, somebody he could like.  A person who uplifted him when he was down and made him want to get out of bed in the morning to start the day.  Somebody he could care for and who would trust and care for him in return.  After the bitter rejection of the Baileys, Greg needed a person he could run to who would always be there for him no matter what happened; consoling, understanding and never judgemental in adversity. A companion to share his joys and successes, a person with whom he could bounce ideas around. Greg knew deep inside himself that the only person he could think of likely to meet those exacting demands was Jess. That worried him again, as to what might be happening to him.

He drove the back of his head into the compressed foam of his pillow to chase away the salacious thoughts that were creeping into his mind; of the memories he had kept locked away for years. But it proved a hopeless endeavour as those powerful remembrances escaped from the cerebral dungeon where they had languished for years washing away the veils of opaqueness behind which they had been imprisoned. They brought an immediate sense of déjà-vu to Greg’s present situation.  He lay back in the bed, feeling cold and unwilling to face them; but with scant option now but to do so. 

The memories transported him back to his late teens, when he had been an eighteen year old, second year, navigating cadet with a Scottish ship management company.  

The company did not own ships of its own, but managed them for other owners; many of whom were speculators who bought old, worn out ships and employed the management company and its sea-staff to keep them running profitably in return for a monthly fee.  It was a fiercely competitive business. Many management companies sprang up and each would bid for vessels seeking managers. They would reduce their proposed budgets for running costs to undercut their competitors and persuade the owners to place their vessel with them and so secure the business. It was all about costs to get the most return for the least expense.

Greg was working on a 20 year old, ex-Italian, very large crude oil carrier of 256,000 deadweight tonnes. The Volare had a violent history. She had been a victim of a missile attack in the Iranian-Iraqi war that raged throughout the 1980’s.  Her owners wanted rid of her immediately after the attack. They hastily and cheaply repaired the vessel before selling her on to New York based speculators.  Her equipment was old and temperamental, with few spares and virtually no budget for improvements. The ship’s staff was briefed to keep her running as best they could with what they already had on board.  She was being allowed to go to rust in accordance with her owner’s plans to run her as cheaply and for as long as possible to maximise the financial return to them before she finally failed and  could no longer continue in service, when she would go to scrap.

Her insurable value at that time was $2million dollars; about one tenth of what a newer and well-found ship would cost.  The conflicts in the Persian Gulf came to a head in 1990 when Iraq invaded Kuwait and Operation Desert Storm was put into effect by allied forces to push the Iraqis back to Baghdad.  

Marine insurers had immediately declared the area a war zone. The immediate effect of which was to considerably raise the hull insurance premiums for vessels transiting into this war zone that commenced north of latitude 24 North.