East of Suez, my friend,
always go first class.
Either that, or mind you
dress appropriately.
I remember, on the Lady Esmé,
the ferry from Mahé to Praslin,
all seating was on deck,
and first was aft, under an awning.
The South-east Monsoon was blowing,
shaping a decent swell.
The little steamer dug and
slapped the waves, in turn.
The spray would fly up twenty feet,
then curl across the bridge
and crash down where the second class
sat, huddled, sick and wet.
Some kids, of course, got wet
and thought no more of it,
and went out to the plunging prow
to laugh at flying fish.
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