It was Saturday night in the Indian Ocean. The sails were full of the south-west trades, there were moonbeams on the masts and stars in the sky; the sea was thick and dark, the wind warm. From below came the sound of the bagpipes.
Not only the sound of the bagpipes, but the bagpipes played by a German sea captain who lives in Scotland and sports a kilt. He loves the sea and ship so much, he was sailing as a passenger.
We were miles from anywhere, doing about six knots. The ocean stretched far beyond the bowsprit. Our next landfall, after navigating the passage between Nicobar and the Andamans, would be the uninhabited Similan Islands. There were worse places to be.
The Star Flyer - 2,200 tonnes, 350ft from figure head to stern - was on the longest passage made these days by a ship under sail. She began her 35-day voyage in Athens, called in at Alexandria, went through Suez to Aden and Oman and then set out across the Arabian Sea, the first stretch of the Indian Ocean. I joined her at the iron-ore port of Vasco da Gama in India for the second sea crossing to Thailand.
She is a strong, beautiful and romantic ship, built on clipper lines, but she lay, unromantically, among grimy ore carriers, with red dust flying from the loading hoppers on the quay. The German skipper, Captain Gerhardt Lickfelt, regarded the peppery coating on his deck and sniffed. He wanted to get going.
We sailed due south, along the hilly coast. At her swiftest, the Star Flyer carves the ocean at 13 knots, all her masts crammed with sail, and with the wavering givaway of a pennant of smoke issuing from the rear mast. It doubles as a slim funnel for the auxiliary diesel engine. You can lie on the sun-bleached deck and, if you have nothing better to do, which may well be the case, you can name the sails (36,000 square feet of them): the top gallants, the jigger, the mizzen fisherman and the rest. Ropes and blocks and belaying pins make enticing patterns in the ocean sun. The bar is circular, half of the curve outside, half inside. You can drink whatever the weather.
We called at Cochin, tying up at Wilmington Island, among the lagoons - an island made by the British from the silt dredged from a new harbour and handily finished in time for Indian independence. Then we made our way past Cape Comorin, the most southerly point of India, with its giant, white church, down to Colombo and eventually went out into the open ocean.
The trades took us by the hand and led us on. The bow nosed hungrily at the easy waves. Settling in at sea, knowing that the next landfall was six days away, was wonderful. The cabins were on the small side, the bathrooms like Houdini cabinets, but done out in teak and brass. There was a television that showed videos, but it was never turned on. News came via a daily sheet, which was placed in the library, but few people bothered. Now was the time for talking.
We heard tales of the ship's crossing of the Arabian Sea, the first indent of the Indian Ocean, on the stretch before I joined. The 150 passengers, and 72 crew had come across fishermen in boats, tiny, each one hardly bigger than a man, and days from land, who did a quick deal for a 100lb silvery marlin they had caught. The ship had stopped so everyone could swim in the ocean.
There are not many rules on the Star Flyer. You know where your lifeboat station is and a notice reminds passengers not to light candles in the cabins, a sensible precaution on a wooden ship. All day we sailed, stretched out on the deck or searched the horizon for other ships, which mostly kept well below it. You could learn navigation or how to raise the sails or tie knots; you could lie on your front in the net below the bowsprit and watch the dolphins. There is not much else to do except read and sniff the air. Food was lavish and stretched from morning bacon to the last drifting whiff of dinner.
Everybody loved the ship but no one more than the officers and crew. Most of them have been aboard for years. The passengers were mainly German and American with a sprinkling of other Europeans. The ages were on the northern side of 60.
The day before we disembarked in Phuket, Thailand, the clipper hove-to off a low, green group of nine islands, the Similan Islands. There was no one else to be seen. The only population is birds, lizards and monkeys. It was a hot, clear day and we swam in the shimmering water among millions of coloured fish and a solitary turtle. Out to sea, calmly waiting, was the clipper. She lay like a dream.
The practicals
Leslie Thomas joinde the Star Flyer for its 11 night voyage from Goa to Phuket with calls at Cochin, Columbo and Koh Similian, Thailand. The fares for that sector start from £770, inc port taxes but excluding flights. Fares from the full 35 night voyage from Athens to Phuket are from £2310. Details, contact Fred Olsen Travel on 01473 292229.
