The Last Word Belongs to the Interpreter
(A Trial as Workshop of Interpreting)
Being a teacher of English at institutions of higher education, I have often been asked by my students to tell them about some extraordinary occurrences which had taken place in my practice as a translator and an interpreter.
I prefer to share my experiences as an interpreter, since that kind of professional vocation is incomparable with translating in writing.
Translators write, interpreters speak. The translator can have at hand dictionaries, references and consult them; the interpreter can’t. The translator takes his work home, when it is not finished, the interpreter must finish when the meeting finishes.
I used to tell my students about my practice in consecutive interpreting, when you speak after the speaker, in other words, you’ve memorized it or taken notes and then rebuilt the speech.
In the course of interpreting there can arise embarrassing moments and the mental reactions of the interpreter have to be trained.
Many years ago (I worked at that time as a purser on the passenger ship Baltika) when our vessel called at the London Port Authority at Tilbury, I was summoned by the captain Pavel Alexeyevich Mayorov, a 55 year old sea dog. He seemed to be in low spirits.
It is the unexpected that always happens. Looking at my uniform, the captain asked me to change into civilian clothes and be ready in twenty minutes to go to Grays with him and our ship’s agent.
“We’ll go to the local court. I’ll be a defendant and you’ll be my interpreter.”
I could not make heads or tails of it, but Pavel Alexeyevich did not add anything.
Grays is a little town located 12 miles from Tilbury in the southern suburbs of the British capital.
While driving with the ship’s agent, a middle-aged talkative person, I learned from him what the matter was.
Four weeks earlier the captain moored the Baltika from Tilbury cargo docks to Tilbury landing stage – a passenger berth for embarkation of new tourists.
Wishing to save hard currency for the Baltic Steamship Company, he navigated the vessel without the assistance of a river pilot. There was only the dock’s pilot on the captain’s bridge. The Company of the Thames River Pilots had brought an action against the Russian captain for not having used the service of their company. The procedure was to be held in the court of Common Pleas in Grays.
It was the first case in history when the British Themis sued a Russian captain in court for breaking the rules of navigation on the Old Father Thames.
In a spacious and rather somber room with oak panels, about five dozen people gathered.
We were met by two English lawyers, middle-aged gentlemen wearing dark suits. They were hired by our trade delegation. Unfortunately, neither of them spoke Russian. The gentlemen smiled and encouraged Pavel Alexeyevich. I also tried to raise his mood and said: “In the future, if we are to fill in our forms for any kind of work, we will have to mention our previous convictions.”
But the joke turned out to be out of place. The interlocutor did not respond to it.
Three men of the law were sitting at a long table: a stout bald judge in his late sixties and two of his assessors, men in their forties. On the left of the table there was a desk for press-men, occupied by a young man with long brown hair.
The plaintiff’s task (the pilot company) was to prove that the master of the Baltika had illegally used the services of the dock pilot while navigating the ship along the Thames, and even if he did not consult the dock pilot he was not permitted to do it on his own.
Only just begun, the court examination could have come to a stop. The judge asked the captain and me to come to stand on which lay a thick Bible in a dark green cover.
A thought flashed through my mind that it could be the King Jame’s Bible published in 1611, the best version of translation in English.
The Englishman asked the captain to put his hand on the Bible and take the oath to speak the truth and nothing but the truth.
Then he asked me to do the same and translate using all my ability and skill.
Looking at me, Pavel Alexeyevich said in a low voice that he refused to take the oath. Everybody in the hall understood that the defendant was not going to touch the Holy Writ.
I added something to the words of the captain and said: “Your Honour! The captain and myself are atheists and our vow will not be valid. That’s why we can’t take the oath.”
The answer threw the courtroom into confusion and everyone was stunned. It reminded me of a deathly-still scene in Gogol’s Revisor (General Inspector).
The judge seemed to be in a spin and was at his wit’s end. He took his handkerchief and wiped sweat from his forehead. It was only the reporter who did not lose his presence of mind and began hastily to write something in his note-book. The judge consulted with his two assessors, sighed and begged us: “Well! Captain! Please, give your honest word to speak only the truth and you,” addressing me, “to translate everything with all your skill and ability.”
I interpreted those words to Pavel Alexeyevich and he nodded assent.
Then there began the examination – investigation of the seafarer. The judge fired at him with a lot of questions about the captain’s maritime education, how long he had had a captain’s license, how many times he had called at Tilbury Cargo Docks and Tilbury Landing and whether he had had any collisions at sea.
Keeping cool, Pavel Alexeyevich plainly answered all the questions and it was very easy to translate his speech.
Then the floor was taken by the plaintiff’s lawyer, a nervous, slim man, about thirty five-years old, with long hair. He brought with him a large black briefcase packed with thick folios. One by one he began to take them out. They were records of ship collisions on the Thames registered since 1576. All the vessels collided because the masters of the sailing ships and later steamers failed to utilize river pilots.
It was a long speech and I took notes putting down precise information: the names of the ships, their captains’ names, years of collisions, etc.
“You see!” exclaimed the speaker passionately, “to what disasters could lead the criminal negligence to their duties by foreign captains who refuse to take pilots while sailing along the Thames.
Pleased with his speech he sat down and had a word with the representatives of the pilot company.
“Do you have any questions to Mr. Mayorev?” the judge asked him.
The lawyer jumped up and said, “What signal will your ship give when a tugboat is approaching her?”
I translated the question, but Pavel Alexeyevich was lingering over his answer.
Malicious smiles appeared on the faces of the lawyer and his clients.
“Please ask them to tell whether a tugboat is approaching the stern or the bow – the signals will be different,” said the captain to me.
I decided to interpret otherwise.
“The captain is making a protest against the non-professionally formulated question. It is not clear whether the tugboat is approaching the stern or the bow of the ship. Then the signals will be different.”
There was a rather long pause. The opponents began to consult about the matter and then unexpectedly withdrew the question.
The judge announced a lunch break. Our English lawyers congratulated us with victory.
“Why? How did you come to that conclusion?” we asked them.
“The captain’s answers were very convincing and our assistance was not even needed. The interpreting was up to the mark. In the rules of navigation on the Thames there is an elucidation printed in small print and explaining that a captain can navigate along the river at his own risk within the distance of one sea mile. In your case, it was less than one sea mile.”
After the break was over, the judge announced the verdict. I must say for me it was the most pleasant task of interpreting.
“The civil action of the pilot’s company remains unsatisfied. The trial costs will be paid by the plaintiff. The captain will be paid 25 pounds for his loss of time, the interpreter – five pounds. Next day we embarked about 400 new passengers at Tilbury Landing. Many of them had the latest issue of The Daily Telegraph with a big headline on the front page – “Russian Captain Wins Process”.