In the evening, tranquility crawled back from the shadows as the car graveyard stood still and reminded us not to smoke cigarettes in the car trunk. A provision truck came with food and beverages for our ship. The ship’s main deck was high, and we used a crane to lift pallets of provisions from the shore. The Cook checked out the food on the pallets and told us what type of food goes where.

At one moment, the Cook said to me, “This is not what I ordered; throw it back to them.”

I took two big and heavy crates of frozen squids from his hands and said, “Ok, on the next pallet I’ll send it down.”

The Cook grabbed the crates from my hands and screamed in my face, “I told you to throw it back to them. What part of throw it don’t you understand!”

I was speechless and confused by his actions, but the Cook walked to the ship’s railing[1] and literally threw the frozen squid crates down as he screamed, “Here, you eat that car tire, motherfucker!”

I leaned on the railing and saw a truck driver dodging the falling squid crates. Within seconds, squid were scattered all over the truck and the port. The driver pointed his middle finger and shouted something. The Cook pulled out a big kitchen knife from somewhere and waved it around.

The Cook screamed, “I better not see you again. I will cut your balls next time, you piece of shit.”

The Cook turned to me, pointed the knife at my face, and asked, “When I say throw it down next time, what will you do?”

His eyes looked calm. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but I replied, “I will throw it down.”

The Cook said, “And don’t forget, aim for the motherfucker. These fuckers give us dog food and charge it for the real thing. Here, look at this meat. It was packed eight years ago from across the world. That fat fuck, I want to see him eat this shit.”

The Cook continued to swear and wave his knife as he made his way to the kitchen. Once he was far enough away, I cracked open the package of old meat. Inside, there was just a big hunk of ice with some meat buried deep within it. It looked more like a tourist lost on Mount Everest than something edible.

The next day, port operations resumed. We loaded cars in a lower garage named lower deck one.

Chief handed me an ice cream and winked at me as he said, “Instead of morning coffee…way better…you will have no problems with your stomach.”

We noticed the lower garage was almost full.

Chief said to a crewmember who lashed cars, “Mike…on lower deck two…wait for my signal on VHF. I’ll let you know when…lower platform is secured. You understand…no cars on lower deck two until…I give the OK.”

The last few cars entered lower deck one. Mike nodded at Chief and walked up the platform.

Chief said to me, “Stay here and…help me out. After the platform gets up…watch the lock mechanism. Here…use this VHF to speak to me.”

Chief handed me a portable VHF radio and walked far away to the control box. The sound of the turbine power appeared with an echo through the garage.

I heard Chief, who said on the portable VHF radio, “Pump one on…platform rising up.”

The platform moved, tearing at my ears with the sound of metal squeaks, reminiscent of old movies where ships sink and metal bends and cracks. Slowly, the platform rose to the top and settled into place with a clank.

Chief said on the portable VHF radio, “The locks on the ramp…are closed?”

I looked below the ramp and said on the portable VHF radio, “No, they are open.”

The clank noise appeared again, and Chief said on the portable VHF radio, “And now?”

I said on the portable VHF radio, “Still open.”

Chief said on the portable VHF radio, “Bucket of bolts…alright…I’ll turn on the second pump for a few seconds to lock it. We can’t use the second pump too much because the hydraulic pipes will crack and start leaking around.”

The sound of a second turbine echoed through the garage. It felt like we were in a jumbo jet. I heard the clank noise.

Chief said, “Now?”

I said on the portable VHF radio, “Nope, it seems you would have to raise the platform a little bit more. I think the locks are just banging on the platform.”

Chief said on the portable VHF radio, “The handle is in the up position…hmm…I’ll try to lower it a little and raise it up again.”

The platform lowered down, and I saw car tires on it. It seems cars are parked on the platform and lashed since the lashing started to break off.

I screamed on the portable VHF radio, “Chief, stop, stop, there are cars on the platform!”

The platform stopped, and the sound from one of the pumps faded out.

Captain Hobo screamed on the portable VHF radio, “Cars! Cars on the platform! Chief, you idiot! You will break the ramp; we will drown; you will kill us.”

Chief came closer to me and looked at the platform.

Suddenly, Captain Hobo popped up in front of us and screamed, “How old are you? Ten, huh? You imbecile, look at this—you broke it, we are finished, you are finished. Two pumps, I heard you, two pumps. The hydraulics almost exploded. Million-dollar damage…”

Chief tried to speak, but Captain Hobo was unstoppable. I tried to speak but failed big time since I got verbally spanked for daring to open my mouth.

Captain Hobo shouted at me, “What, what, where were you? Probably jerking off. Do you see this? We just lost the ramp. If we go to sea and penetrate the hull, we will all die. DIE! You’ll remember my words, before you die.”

On the portable VHF radio, the 2nd Mate said, “Captain, Port authorities are on board.”

The Captain stopped with his screams and vanished from our sight in a second. I never saw such a person before in my life. Chief looked all sad with deep thoughts. I felt sad for Chief as he didn’t do anything wrong.

I climbed up to lower deck two and saw a few cars approaching me. I stopped the cars and said to the first driver, “I need to speak to the man in charge.”

The driver noted he didn’t understand, so I said, “Boss. Yes. Call Boss.” I moved my hand to gesture him to come closer and said, “Boss.”

The driver walked away, and soon a shadowy figure came closer to me and said, “Speak bad your language. Me foreman for loader team.”

I explained to him with hands and feet that he needed to move cars so we could close lower deck one. The foreman for the loader team nodded and said, “No problem.”

In a few seconds, the platform was clean. Chief looked at me all confused. I made a gesture for him to raise the platform. Chief nodded at me and smiled. Soon, the platform was lifted to the correct position and locked. The last pump sound faded out.

Chief climbed up, gave me an ice cream, and said, “You did all this…good job…and guess what—the platform works… it is even locked.”

Mike said, “Chief, the boy addressed the foreman. Can you imagine the arrogance, doing your job?”

Chief said to Mike, “At least Jack did something…while you screwed me over. Get away from my sight.”