Running water. Hot, pressurised, running water. So easily taken for granted in your everyday life. I enjoy a good shower, and it is one of the things I miss most during long voyages onboard Haji. Once upon a time there was a shower in the forrard heads. We could get the pressurised system up and running again, but with only 120L of water in the tank, it uses up our precious stock too fast.
We have a solar shower that sits on deck, bulging black belly sunbathing day in, day out. By day four crew members start throwing it wistful glances, not wanting to be the first one to suggest using it. Finally, someone – and it doesn’t matter who – brings it up, and within seconds, everyone is bustling about on deck. Two people set about hoisting the bag to a reasonable height, careful to protect its cargo. Towels appear, shouted requests for shampoo and soap before an orderly line forms along the sidedeck.
This time we gave in on day five. It has become a bit of a game, seeing how little water we can use to shower all four of us. It is a team building sort of an activity, odd as that sounds when refering to a shower! One person mans the tap, aiming at all the soapy spots and being wary not to over-water, while the showeree – as it were – stays low enough to keep the flow going.
“Watch out! The decks are slippy.” The familiar refrain rings out, announcing the approch of the Bosun for his turn under the hose.
I have perfected the art of washing my hair with as little as possible, but the guys are gallant enough to grant me any left-overs!
(Yes, the process looks as comical as it sounds, and yes, we have photos.)