Water,
Water, Everywhere
Dayana
portioned out rations of the remaining hay, and a small
handful of grain for Khadijah. The trip to America was
rapidly changing from an adventure to a nightmare. Not
long out of port, the ship had hit a series of storms
and very rough seas. Kalyn, plagued by severe dizziness
and nausea from seasickness, was confined to her bed by
the ship's doctor, with medication to calm her stomach
and help her sleep. Mother and daughter agreed Dayana
would be in charge of caring for the horses.
Dayana
was quite capable. Horses were a part of her life and
she was comfortable providing for their basic care. However,
the ship's progress had been very slow with frequent detours
to avoid the worst of the storms. Khadijah's due date
rapidly approached and Dayana grew increasingly worried.
What would she do if the little mare had any problems
delivering her foal?
Adding
to the nightmare, Dayana had discovered not long after
they set sail that much of the feed and most of the water
for the horses had been contaminated. Many of the hay
bales had clear signs of mold and infestation of mice.
Only the metal canisters holding the grain had protected
them from also being spoiled. The water barrels were the
worst and gave off a nasty, sour smell and had a definite
foul taste.
Careful
salvaging of the hay and rationing of the grain might
see them through, but water was critical. The average
horse drinks 20 to 30 liters (8 gallons) of water per
day. Dayana decided to speak with the captain. In the
morning just after breakfast, she headed for the bridge,
but was quickly intercepted by the ship's first mate.
"Here,
here. Where do you think yer goin' little missy,"
he growled tersely.
"I
need to speak to the captain," Dayana replied tentatively.
The first mate was a very large and rather hairy man.
He appeared to have only one bushy eyebrow that traversed
the width of his weather worn brow. "It's rather
urgent," she continued trying to rally a little courage.
"This
wouldn't have to do with those three worthless horses,
would it?" the mate asked. "I told the Captain
they'd be nothin' but trouble and a waste of good cargo
space."
Angered
by the mate's description of Aziz, Barika, and Khadijah
as "worthless," Dayana was tempted to give him
a loud introduction to the nearly royal pedigree of the
ship's three equine passengers. However, looking into
his cold, dark eyes she knew it would be a waste.
"Please,
sir," she said. "Most of the water is foul.
It needs to be replaced or the horses will become ill,
perhaps even die."
The
mate straightened to his full height crossing his large
forearms over his chest. "This is no concern of mine
or the Captain's. The agreement was for passage only.
The owners were to be responsible for all care."
"But…,"
Dayana pleaded.
The
mate cut her off and glanced at his watch. "I've
no more time for this conversation. The weather has delayed
us, so we're all on water rationing until we arrive in
port. You'll have to make do with what you have."
Dayana
knew by his dismissive tone she would find no help from
him no matter how persistent she might be. She turned
way from his stony glare and left the bridge.
Her
next stop was the kitchen. Perhaps the cooks might be
more sympathetic. Again she received a cold welcome. No
one was willing to break the rationing order and risk
the wrath of the first mate. The cook did take a little
pity on the clearly distressed girl and allowed Dayana
to forage through some older cases of vegetables and fruit,
which he had set aside to be discarded. Though most was
inedible, she managed to find a fairly good crate of slightly
withered apples, a few pounds of carrots, and through
the generosity of one of the dishwashers, a one pound
box of sugar cubes smuggled out under his apron.
Determined
not to give up, Dayana sat on a recessed stairwell catching
a brief breath of fresh air hoping to come up with some
sort of idea. Soon the perpetually foul weather, which
had plagued their trip from the start, began again. Dayana
looked up at the dark sky and wondered if the cursed storm
had merely followed them all the way from Egypt refusing
to let go like a terrier with a bone.
Dayana's
irritation turned to enthusiasm as an idea popped into
her head. Perhaps she could set buckets outside to collect
the rainwater. She could start to replenish her dwindling
supply. Dayana took stock of her supplies down below.
She had six buckets, two for each horse. Dayana's heart
fell. Horses consumed far more water each day than she
could replace with a few buckets. Already two of the good
barrels were empty.
Perhaps
she could use the empty barrels to collect the water?
They were heavy and would be difficult to move, but growing
up around stables tended to grow strong muscles. Dayana
spent the afternoon hauling the heavy barrels up the endless
stairs to the open stairwell. The storm had kicked up
nicely and with the barrels tied into place, they began
to collect water…slowly…too slowly. The openings
at the top were too small. Dayana stared at the barrels,
the rain pounding down around her. There had to be a better
way!
Dayana
stepped back inside away from the storm and shook the
water from her rain poncho. She looked down at the pool
of water at her feet, a grin spread across her face as
she quickly sped back to her cabin for a few supplies.
Dayana's father had always admired his daughter's ingenuity
and he would be proud of her now. Soon both barrels were
steadily filling with water collected by the outstretched
ponchos strung above them. The water funneled down perfectly
through the hood and flowed into the barrel.
Dayana
knew it would take many tiring trips to haul the water
down to the horses, but at least now she felt secure that
they would have enough fresh water just as long as it
kept raining. For the first time on the trip, Dayana prayed
for more rain.
