I sailed into Cartegena, Colombia, on the Fortunato early one morning with a cargo of fuel and diesel oil. It was my first time in South America having crossed the Atlantic after a few voyages from England to the Arabian Gulf. As a cadet, my time was apportioned by the Captain but as I was the only cadet on board, he gave me as much leisure as was possible. He also allowed me to mix with some of the sailors as long as I stayed within the boundaries of what he considered normal living.
The sailors invited me to join them on a trip ashore that evening after I had finished my discharge watch. As I showered and dressed I was excited at the prospect of drinking with some of the sailors. Back in England I was considered by law too young to enter bars.
The sailors ordered a number of taxis to take us into town. One of them who had been here before knew of a bar and recommended this. When we arrived, to me it was like a hacienda. Through an arch in a fence covered in bourganvilla was a garden surrounded by chalets. Flowers bloomed in beds and the lawn was carefully groomed. Opposite the entrance was the bar. It was like how I imagined a colonial building would be, wooden with a corrugated iron roof. Along the front was a covered veranda with round tables and cane chairs.
Joe, one of the sailors who always appeared to be in the lead, paid off the taxi and did not ask me for a contribution. He found a large round table and we all sat around. A waitress wearing a skimpy top, no bra and short skirt appeared. Everybody ordered drinks and somebody paid.
Looking around curiously, I noticed that most of the tables were occupied by groups of men drinking and talking. There was loud music playing and inside the bar was a dance floor. Several couples were dancing very close. At the other tables sitting with the men were obviously local girls all dressed like the waitress.
It was not long before more girls appeared and after some banter with the sailors, sat down at the table. I have no idea how it was sorted whether by the men or the girls but soon each man had a girl sitting next to him. Joe ordered another round of drinks.
Dennis one of the other sailors lent over and pushed some money into my hand. “ Buy a round of drinks,” he whispered. “ Don’t say anything about who gave you the money. I know how little you earn. This is on me.”
Next time the waitress appeared, I went to order a round. One of the other sailors pushed my hand away, told me to sit down and ordered a round. I tried to give the money back to Dennis but he told me to put it in my pocket until the opportunity came up again. This happened a few times during the evening with different sailors and by the end of the evening, I had accumulated a tidy sum of money.
The girl who had sat next to me was young, about my age I suppose. She was dark skinned, black hair with a round face and thick lips. Her body could be described as chunky though from the feel of her leg against mine, not fat. When she reached over me to get to her drink, her top fell away from her body revealing that she did not wear a bra. Her breasts glimpsed under her top were like two pointed cones. She sat holding my hand, singing softly to the music and stroking my thigh. Unlike some of the other girls who were all over their men, she made no attempt to get me to kiss her or fondle her body.
Bob the cook, a good looking man, went off with the best looking girl in the brothel. She had an almost perfect figure, round face with large dark eyes and well proportioned lips. Her hips swung provocatively as she walked. They disappeared into one of the chalets.
Fifteen minutes later the girl rushed out of the chalet without any clothes covering her body.
She was screaming causing her breasts to bob up and down. “ I can’t take it! It is too big! It will break me in two!”
Bob followed looking bemused also without any clothes. His member stood proudly to attention. I gasped as I realised it was as large as my fore arm. The sailors sitting on our table all cheered. Some of the girls went to comfort their friend. One of the older women took Bob by the hand and led him back into the chalet. Her eyes were large and round. We did not see Bob until it was time to go back to the ship.
One after the other after some bargaining, the other sailors drifted away to the chalets. Angela, as my girl was called, took my hand and pulled me to my feet. She indicated that we should follow. I walked beside her to one of the chalets and she opened the door with a key. Inside was dark until she t switched on a bedside light. The room was sparsely furnished. A double bed dominated the space with a garish cover thrown across. A chest of drawers with a mirror above. Opposite the window a cupboard. A stand in one corner with an old fashioned, to me. wash basin and jug of warm water. I noticed that above the bed was a picture of the virgin Mary.
Angela held out her hand and I paid the going price. She pushed the money into a bag hanging in the cup board. Only then did she kiss me. She undressed me slowly, pushing my hand away every time I attempted to help.
Smiling she said. “ Slowly, slowly. More pleasure.”
Once I was naked, she pushed me onto the bed. Standing above me at the foot of the bed, she undressed slowly. Once naked, she knelt on the bed at my side and kissed every bit of my flesh. Every time I reached for her, she pushed my hand away. It went on like this for a what to me seemed an age. Finally, she lay on top of me and made love. It was the most satisfying encounter I had ever experienced. After that she let me explore her body and we made love until Joe knocked on the door to say it was time to go back to the ship.
So ended my first encounter with a seaman’s trip ashore after being locked in a ship for weeks.
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