National Institute of Informatics - Digital Silk Road Project
Digital Archive of Toyo Bunko Rare Books

port some 40 miles beyond Tāhirī, where there would be some hope of obtaining
camels. The difficulty of getting our baggage transported from camp to the sea-
shore caused delay in embarkation. Midday had passed by the time we had men
and impedimenta crowded into the frail little craft, measuring some 45 feet from
bow to stern and only 8 feet wide. The favourable wind from the south (kausbī)
on which our nākhudā, the boat-master, relied, changed by the evening under a
cloudy sky to one from the east (barrī). All the same, skilful tacking had brought
us early in the night well beyond the lights of Akhtar village up the coast above
Tāhirī.

But about 2 a.m., when I was awakened by a trying buffeting of the little craft
and much raucous shouting on the part of our Arab crew, I found that a violent
shamāl, the dreaded north-west wind of the Gulf, had sprung up and rendered all
hope of gaining Daiyir futile for some time. While lying awake on the little
poop I realized how hard put our skilful sailors were to keep the boat's head
towards Tāhirī and prevent our being driven back beyond the place we had
started from. By daybreak they had managed with much toil to gain the road-
stead south of Tāhirī, and later on to drop anchor within a mile or so of the small
fishing hamlet of Parak (Fig. 77). The sea being very rough, it took hours and
some clever manœuvring before the badly leaking craft could be brought under
such shelter as a fuel-laden boat anchored within a couple of furlongs from the
shore could afford. Regard for the misery still being endured by our men and
escort crouching amidst the baggage in the open hold then made me decide to
abandon the hapless maritime venture and return to land. But with a single small
fisherman's boat secured from the shore the landing was not safely accomplished
till the afternoon.

The attempt to expedite our journey towards Bushire had lamentably failed.
Yet trying as the experience had been—and the originator of the attempt was
now loudest in his condemnation—it had provided in a way a useful antiquarian
lesson. It let me realize better than I might have done otherwise how the men
in Nearchos's fleet may have felt in their crowded small ships which afforded but
little protection from weather and sun, when making their way along a coast so
exposed to strong and rapidly changing winds as that of the Persian Gulf.

At Parak we might have remained stranded for an indefinite time through
want of transport, had not a fortunate chance on the morning after our arrival
brought from Tāhirī a major of gendarmerie engaged on inspecting the line
of posts extending to the lower end of Gābandī. This energetic and obliging
officer, a distant relative of our escort commander, when informed of our plight,
dispatched urgent orders all up the line to collect camels for our onward move.
So after a three days' halt at Parak a sufficient number of animals were collected