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Moitessier, Bernard – The Long Way

Nearly four months after we left Plymouth l knew my voyage would go far, but I had no idea it might go farther still, among the intangible wayposts of sea and time. Already four months of sky and stars, with fresh winds, calms, gales followed by calms, calms followed by light airs, then more calms and more fresh winds. And now I listen for the threat of a gale in the cirrus and the sounds of the sea.

In the days when I had my junk I was much too young to be my own taicong, and had hired one known from Ream to Camao.

The crew never spoke to him, because the taicong needs all his peace to communicate with the gods and read on their faces.

At mealtime, the crew would gather round the steaming rice kettle, forward if it was fine, amidships in a seaway. But always far from the taicong, keeping their voices down so as not to disturb him in his communion.

The young deckhand served him aft, respectfully giving him the rice bowl with both hands, without a word. Then he joined the others, slipping like a shadow on his bare feet.