Pacific

‘I’ll be happier when the bikes are on, we’re on and we’re on our way.’ I reply, anxiously viewing the huge mound of cargo still sitting on the dock waiting to be loaded.
‘They can’t be putting all that on,’ says Oli, ever the optimist, ‘it must be for another boat.’ Though I can sense even Olivier’s doubt.
‘Maybe,’ I say, calculating space, as a man adds steel rods to the mound and to my equation of; bricks, cement, fridges, washing machines, wood, galvanise, rice, beer, fizzy drinks, steel girders and the ubiquitous can’t-go-anywhere-without-one….chicken…alive.

And let’s not forget the two motorbikes.