Tuesday, 25 August 2020

Kastellorizo once again

Kastellorizo ​​once again

Previously, I wrote about Kastellorizo ​​in this blog, and once again the remote Greek island recently made the headlines with a new Turkish effort to back up that country's claims to the sea area around the island. The Turks sent a research vessel to explore for natural gas, guarded by no less than five naval ships to frustrate any Greek counter-action. Even so, the Greeks are said to have forced a collision with the research vessel.


The Turkish ‘armada’ underway

Kastellorizo ​​plays a leading role in my novel De Batavier (The Batavian), which was published last year. Already during my visit to the island in 2013, the tension was palpable, even though the islanders do their shopping at the market in the Turkish coastal town of Kaş, which is only a few nautical miles away. A recent newspaper article even states that the islanders have a current account with the shopkeepers on the Turkish mainland!


Kaş harbour


However, the political situation remains grim, with repeated border incidents in the waters contested by both sides. The origins of all this lie in the past: the islands were mandated to Italy after the Turkish-Greek war of 1919-1922 and transferred to Greece in 1946. The Turks have never accepted this.


Kastellorizo

In The Batavian I stage a Turkish invasion of Kastellorizo, which is thwarted by Greek intervention. Later I describe the difficulties in rescuing distressed refugees in the disputed waters between Kastellorizo ​​and Kaş, as any border crossing by the coastguard of either country turns into an international incident of impossible proportions. The Batavian is a work of fiction, but the background is everyday reality. The Batavian can still be ordered (in Dutch only) from the bookstore or my publisher, Palmslag.


The Cargo


My new book Het Transport (The Cargo) will be going to the printer soon. As mentioned earlier, my publisher Palmslag will publish the book in early October. Due to current restrictions on large gatherings, no book presentation will be held for the time being. Instead, thoughts are turned to an online presentation, possibly an interview or a promotional film. I will discuss this with my agent, Hanneke Tinor-Centi, shortly.



I am writing this on board my yacht Manokwari, lying in the port of Harlingen, where part of The Cargo takes place. The plan was to sail to Vlieland, but bad weather has thrown a spanner in the works. We are waiting here for stormy weather forecast later today ...


For both The Batavian and The Cargo, English translations have been prepared.


To be continued...

Wednesday, 5 August 2020

A tale of Africa

As a seafarer I came to South and West Africa, during the 1970s. To be honest, at the time I saw Africa mainly from a European perspective, although even then I wondered what was the matter with apartheid in South Africa. We transported Western products to Africa, and the return cargo was mostly tree trunks and some tropical products. Thus, I did my share in the destruction of the rain forest.

loading tropical trees at Campo, Cameroon, 1978

Africa has been cruelly exploited for centuries - it was a source of raw materials, tropical products and cheap labour. Local rulers were bribed by unscrupulous traders and actively participated - you only have to read about the slave trade to understand. The consequences are still there: Africa is a rich continent with an enormous potential, but it is torn by war and the people are bad off. Three out of four people in Africa have no permanent job and no fixed income, they are mostly day labourers who cannot feed their children at the least setback.


Jamestown, Accra, Ghana, 2012

The problem is that almost no one invests in Africa - the exploitation continues as before, large Western and Chinese multinationals being the main perpetrators. A new colonization, which we in the West still benefit from. The corruption and collusion of African governments is often alluded to as the cause. But I think it is a vicious circle of despicable dealing involving outside parties that has still not been broken.

An example

Recently, my newspaper featured an article by a South African professor about vaccines for infectious diseases no longer being developed in Africa. Some initiatives have failed due to "financing problems". Even now, during the Covid-19 epidemic, Africa is only used as a testing ground for vaccines that are being developed elsewhere. Everything is made outside Africa and sold in Africa on our terms. Medicines and vaccines are expensive. This applies not only to medical applications, but to almost all achievements of the contemporary world.

Small wonder that the continent is so impoverished and young men are sent to Europe by their families, hoping to find work there and money to send home. To Europe, where they come up against fences and refugee camps, remaining in permanent poverty and insecurity. It is too easy to explain away the African migration as their own fault.

fish market in Elmina, Ghana, 2012

Fortunately, there are exceptions, where the local population gets a better chance. A friend of ours worked in Ghana for a long time. He managed to save an area of rainforest in the Atewa range, which a Chinese company was after because there is a 20 metres thick vein of bauxite underneath. The forest serves as a water extraction area for Accra and the local economy benefits from ecotourism. Our friend presented the local ‘chief’ with calculations proving that in the long run the income out of the forest would be more than the proceeds of selling it to the Chinese. There is an ongoing drive to declare the area a national park, which is better than it being pillaged by a Chinese mining company.

Africa in 1976

I remember a thief being caught on board my ship in Cape Town. Naturally you don’t want thieves on board your ship, but all the poor sod had stolen was an alarm clock from the first mate's cabin. I had the dubious pleasure of receiving the South African police on board, two big white-skinned cops in pale blue uniforms, shorts and flat caps. The thief looked rather innocent compared to them. He was a Cape Coloured, a descendant of the original San population and Dutch settlers. The first thing the policemen did was slam the thief’s head against the steel bulkhead. I stopped that, saying I did not tolerate that on board a Dutch ship. The men spoke Afrikaans (a form of Dutch) and understood me perfectly. The detainee was handcuffed and taken away. I don't know what they did to him later. They probably beat him senseless.

French colonial church in Kribi, Cameroon, 1978

At the time, Colonial influence was still strongly present in West Africa, in some cases probably still is. In 1978 I sailed to Senegal, Ivory Coast and Cameroon. The French connection showed in hotels and apartment buildings for the scores of French expats who lived there. Dakar (Senegal) looked like a French city on the Côte d´Azur. In Abidjan, Ivory Coast, the city center was a collection of tall tower blocks, surrounded by shabby slums.
 
Fort Elmina, Ghana 2012

Fort Elmina

I returned to Africa once more in 2012. In Ghana we were driven around by a local driver named Emmanuel, in a rented minivan. I still remember the visit to the slave fortresses at Cape Coast and Elmina. Elmina in particular made a deep impression on me. The fort was originally Portuguese (São Jorge da Mina) and was conquered by the Dutch in the 17th century. Ultimately, the Dutch West India Company controlled a large part of the overseas slave trade from what was then called the 'Gold Coast'.

the church in Fort Elmina, Ghana

The Netherlands was almost the last country to ban slavery (1863, remembered on Keti Koti day, the Broken Bonds, July 1st), although in the colony of Suriname the former slaves were obliged by law to continue working on the plantations for 10 more years. It was institutionalized human trafficking.

dungeon in Fort Elmina

The church at Fort Elmina is located directly above the dungeons, where for many years people were locked up, waiting for the next ship to take them to the Caribbean and the American mainland. Centuries later the dungeons still smell of excrement - there was a drain in the centre, but the stench is too deeply sunk in the floor and walls. The Dutch slave traders were singing psalms in the church upstairs, turning a blind eye to the ocean of misery underfoot.

I couldn’t meet the Ghanaian guide’s eyes for shame.