Monsoon by Di Morrissey Page B

gold.
    â€˜It’s an old pagoda.’
    â€˜Whose boat is that?’ said Sandy.
    â€˜Maybe there’s someone visiting the old Buddhist nun who lives on the island.’ Hung steered the junk around the outcrop, which came between them and the setting sun, and busied himself adjusting the big red sail.
    Tom joined the girls, helping himself to a bottle of local 333 beer. ‘Magic, isn’t it? Chinh says there’ll be a mist tonight. Make it interesting, eh?’
    â€˜Creepy maybe. You mean we’re stopping round here?’ said Anna.
    Before Tom could answer, Hung and Captain Chinh began reefing down the sails and with a splash, an anchor was dropped from the bow.
    Because it was a still evening they decided to eat on deck rather than in the small saloon below. Hung set up a table and put a heavy tablecloth over the flat hatch cover to use as a serving table. Lanterns hanging from the rigging were lit and, along with the red and green mooring lights, they splashed the glassy surface of the still dark sea with sparkling streaks of colour.
    â€˜Is this very deep here?’ asked Anna.
    â€˜Very deep. Some places too deep to measure,’ said Captain Chinh.
    â€˜It has a mysterious air about it, doesn’t it,’ said Tom.
    Anna shivered. There were no other boats or lights in sight, just the looming peaks encircling them, dark against the evening sky.
    Captain Chinh served them fried fish and grilled eggplant with spicy minced pork topped with fresh coriander, followed by bananas dipped in batter, fried, and sprinkled with sugar. Dinner was praised by all.
    Candles in glass jars threw a soft light on the table as Captain Chinh accepted one of Tom’s beers. Sandy topped up the wine glasses as Hung took away their dishes.
    Tom leaned back in his chair. ‘This is the way to appreciate a place. Chinh, you didn’t finish the story you were telling me. Sandy and Anna might be interested.’
    Captain Chinh pulled a cigarette from his top pocket and lit it, then took a swallow of beer, enjoying the anticipation on the faces around the table.
    â€˜Long time, long ago in Vietnam we have famous ladies . . . they fight for our country, we honour them in stories. Most famous is Kieu, very beautiful story, very sad. Also famous Trung sisters, one husband killed by Chinese and the sister start big rebellion and send Chinese out of Vietnam. But some years later Chinese come back and so sisters kill themselves drowning in a river.’ He took another drag on his cigarette. ‘And Lady Trieu, another very brave lady, she fight off Chinese invasion. She go to battle on elephant, all dressed in gold armour and white shoes made from elephant tusk – yes, ivory. Yes, she very brave lady, only nineteen.’
    Only Nineteen. It brought back the echoes of Redgum’s song to Tom. He didn’t mention it; Sandy and Anna were probably too young to know it.
    â€˜I’ve heard of The Tale of Kieu . A very famous epic love story,’ Sandy said to Anna.
    â€˜Do tell,’ said Anna.
    â€˜The scene is medieval times and this young girl sacrifices her own true love to save her family. Her life becomes a procession of lovers, husbands and bad men but her spirit remains pure, so she is finally reunited with her first love and her family.’
    â€˜So a happy ending?’ asked Anna.
    Captain Chinh and Sandy shook their heads.
    â€˜No, some call her a prostitute, but, despite preserving her own spiritual honour, she can’t go back to the way it was before. Only in her heart and memory,’ said Sandy.
    â€˜Loss and nostalgia for what was. There’d be a lot of that after the war, wouldn’t you say?’ Tom asked Captain Chinh, who grasped the meaning of the question but struggled to find words to express his answer. Finally he summoned Hung, who translated the older man’s explanation.
    â€˜ Que huong means the village you come from, ky niem