Felucca on the Nile

Somehow, we’re adrift and slowly losing against the Niles current and it’s after 8pm and I’m at the tiller.

My crew has abandoned me and have very one of them stopped and gone to the bow of the boat, just forward of the lateen sail and asked me to hold the boat steady pushing south down the Nile in the fading wind as they intone along with the muezzin’s sunset call and lower themselves to bow and touch their foreheads to the boat’s deck and the East where they approximate mecca to be.

It’s amazing. I’m humbled and a bit awed and struck by the power that Islam has in this country and feel a little less than righteous myself. I admire people with that deep a devotion to anything.

The felucca ride had not gone to plan.

The plan has been to finally let the little kid that had been asking me every day I was in Aswan and whose family owened the boats to let them all take me out. After negotiating quite a good price, he, his little friend and their uncle and myself all clambered onto the lovingly old and shambolic Ali Khan. It was a little later than I had meant it to be, but figured we were ok.

However, the wind gods were not in our favour (not sure who the Egyptian god of wind is actually… there must be one for sailors) and we headed out in to the Nile and past Elephantine Isle in very, very light wind. Perhaps exhausted in the heat of the end of the day to push the felucca, the wind completely gave up while we were well away from the first cataract so the poor little kids had to bring out the oars since our lateen sail was not doing much. I have to admit that I was pretty impressed art the rowing and their uncle sang softly (and quite beautifully) in Nubian to which they, more or less, pulled oars.

We talked about life in Aswan, the little kid’s girlfriend from America that was coming to visit (much to the big, amused smile of the uncle) and everyday things. It was perhaps the most relaxing thing I’d done in my entire stay in Egypt. Chilled me out, peeked past the heat of the day and felt lazy while still doing something.

But as the sun dipped behind the Aga Khan’s tomb on the West Bank of the Nile, the muezzin’s call came clear across the waters. It wasn’t even discussed actually. I was given the tiller and everyone went forward and performed their prayers for the end of the day.

It took us a long time after dark to get back as even zigzagging in the current in the failed wind was a bit of work. Was fun though. Even though I’d haggled hard on the end of the afternoon price, I tipped the uncle and the boys enormously for such an enjoyable ride, shook their hands, promised we’d go out again the next time I was in Aswan and walked into the gathering dark back to my hotel and a dinner rendezvous.