Note: Due to bad internet connection, no photos right now. Will have to publish later.

Wednesday, 10th September 2008

I was picked up at 08.15 by a taxi from the lodge, along with two other crew members who had stayed somewhere different. We went through port immigration discharging us from the Netherlands and were delivered to the ship, which is moored alongside the loading gantries. Two ships of similar size (though not QUITE as big) are berthed fore and astern of us. I nearly had a heart attack as I walked up the gangway from the reality of what was happening.. or was it just that I was doing a balancing act whilst carrying all my luggage on my shoulders whilst walking along it’s rungs/steps.

I was introduced to pretty much everyone today.. first obviously the crewmember assigned to the gangway watch, and who also took my bags. Then the Chief Mate (Chief of Ship/1st Mate/First Officer/ Chief Officer/Boss), Prashant Tyagi, who told me what I’d be doing. Chief Mate is only a little older than I am (making him one of the youngest on the ship –there are only 4 of us born after the mid-seventies) and of similar stature to myself. Then Captain Irfan Sait Razack, who welcomed me board officially, gave me a general rundown and took my documents and certificates. Then I was paired up with the Bosun, a Pilipino, Mr. Ismael Sano –who showed me my cabin. The Accommodation block in the superstructure has 6 interior levels, as well as a monkey-island with the mainmast atop of the bridge. Upper deck is the ground floor on the upper deck of the ship. A through D decks go upwards, then the bridge –with Radio Room and Pilot’s Cabin. The catacombs of Engine Decks are below this. The Captain, Chief Engineer, and Chief of Ship have offices and cabins on D deck. Mine is on C deck, in between the 2nd Engineer (Siddesh Sawant) and Electrical Officer (Sijjeet Singh), on the port side –room C9. There is a toilet, shower, etc in a cramped ensuite, and an L shaped room with a desk and bookshelf fixed next to my bed. A couch faces the desk, and a wardrobe is opposite the ensuite. Then the Bosun told me to simply wander around and introduce myself to people until lunch.

I had a good long chat to “Chef,” Ramon Guinto (Chief of Chip), who seems to be like a master of the “in-the-know” onboard. Officers, Engineers, Mechanics, Fitters, Ordinary and Able Bodied Seamen, Electrical Officer, Oilers, Greasers, Wipers, 1st and 2nd Chefs, the Mess-man… I’m pretty sure I’ve met everyone aboard- about 40 in all. Damned if I remember everyone’s name yet. I’m the only European crew-member. All the Officers are Indian or Pilipino . The Chief of Ship is an Indian. He is a smart cookie, a good guy, and we’re becoming friends. I can speak to him any time I need to know something. You can really tell he is admired by the crew. The Captain must be about 50, Muslim-Indian, also very friendly and well-mannered. Obviously none of the officers are dummies.

There is a small Gym, swimming pool (although not full right now), several A.V./Stereo lounges, separate crew and officer’s mess, and med-bay. The Engine room is nothing short of intimidating. It has about 6 floors, and quite a few separate storerooms and workshops. On deck is obviously massive. Most everything happens around the superstructure unless we’re loading or unloading ore, but I’ve walked up and down deck several times now just because. I guess I’ve walked a couple of Ks today. I’m going around with a notebook right now compiling a massive list of questions as I think of them. I also took the time to make an overview study-plan, which I’ll go over with the mate and master sometime soon, along with the rest of my questions and requests.

Ordinarily I will turn to at 07.00hrs and report to the bosun. Technically I’m higher in rank than he is, but obviously he is vastly more experienced than me. I’ve taken to calling him Bos’.. sorry Leah. He’s a cool guy, as are the ABs (Able Bodied Seamen, the old-boy sailors). A grim lot they are, but after today I think I have their friendship and some of their respect. This in total contrast to everyone in the Engineering Department, who are all bright and smiley – I guess because they I belong to he deck department. Anyway in the mornings I do the job of a Seaman. After lunch I report to one of the Mates, as pre-planned, to check out their jobs and do more officer related training. Tomorrow I’ll report to the 3rd Mate, whose responsibility among other things is anything to do with safety and survival.

Today was different however. We are taking on stores, which on the scale of today’s efforts happens only once every 6 months. I put myself straight into it as a barge pulled alongside us. Some massive parts of the engine were hauled out and then replaced by one of the ships utility cranes from the barge. Stores such as equipment, food, chemicals, oils, steel-stock, whatever, were hoisted aboard by the barges crane. Incidentally the barge was one of the hundreds of self-propelled ones that are seen around Rotterdam, with a house aft, bridge atop, and often cars and boats sitting on top of the house. I started just lending a hand and ended up playing dog-man (the guy who attends the cranes hooks, and orders the crane operator) eventually left alone to do so while the deck crew moved the crates to their temporary destinations on-deck. Afterwards as the barge left, stores were moved inside. At 18.00 hours many of the hands seemed to pack up and leave, but I stayed as the supplies couldn’t be simply left on deck- after all I’m still an officer. The Chief Mate ended up ordering me to the dinner table. We ate together, talked about home, and the need to get the job done, & co.

Anyways we finished what HAD to be done at around 21.00. Now I’m a tired boy.

Apparently our trip is going to be more interesting than I anticipated. After Tubarao, Brazil we head to Taranto, Italy. After that, we go into Dry-dock at Cadiz, Spain. It is impressed on me how much dry-docking will be a very advantageous experience for me, and it’s likely that well be in Spain for 1 month or more.. on full pay and sea-time, though there will still be a it of work for me to do. I’ll get to watch and help where I can, but I’m told I’ll be put up in a hotel for a couple of weeks.

We’re due to sail on the 14th, after repairs and loading.

Thursday, 11th September 2008

Lots went on this-morning. Turned to after breakfast, and assisted an AB (Eddie Patagnan/Pilipino) assigned to deck-watch in adjusting the mooring lines to the tide, using the massive powered winches. Then I helped move around of some new winching lines to the Bosun’s Store, just aft of the Collision (foremost) Bulkhead and the Fore-Peak Tank. This is situated under what is technically the Forecastle (Foc’s’le), though there is no actual raised deck.

I was then seconded by the 3rd Mate, Jesus Sandoval, to assist him with cleaning and repairing the fire extinguishers. The Chief Mate takes his role in educating me very seriously… perhaps that isn’t the right word… he randomly quizzes me on various things and tries to catch me out. He did this with the extinguishers, and I was surprised about how much there was to quiz about. Though if I get something wrong or don’t know, he tells me in a remarkably positive manner, or teases in a good-natured way –then quizzes me later on to make sure I’ve remembered. This is a fun way of learning the more detailed/theoretical aspects of my profession.

After morning break I was relieved by the Chief Officer to watch and assist in the opening of some of the holds in preparation for discharging of our cargo. This is a simple enough process, but must be done correctly or the operation will result in damage expensive and time-consuming to repair, and possibly dangerous. The 1st Mate supervised from the bridge-wing’s vantage point, and a team of ABs under the 2nd Mate, Ranjeet Rana, formed the deck crew responsible for executing the operation. Power to the motors must be turned on after notifying and approval from Engineering (like most machinery work). Some manual locking clasps must be released and then the hydraulically powered cleats that form a more substantial lock on the holds are also released. Each hatch-cover moves on wheels that roll along rails like a train’s. When in the closed position these wheels rest on sections of rail that are lowered while closed, and raised to allow movement by a set of integrated hydraulic jacks. A single gear mechanism per hold, attached to a motor, mates with a row of teeth on the underside of the hatch-cover. This gear revolves and moves the hatch-cover aside to port or starboard, depending on how that particular hatch is set up. This done the holds themselves and the cargo are exposed to open air. Each could fit a large apartment block, and currently contain two different grades of iron ore. Some in a sand form, some in pellet/shot form. When the cover reaches the extremity of the rail they are locked in place both by the actuating gear, and by a set of manual locks.

As we finished doing this, another barge pulled up and moored alongside us. This time she carried fuel-oil, and I realized we were going to be “Bunkering” (refueling). This is not so interesting and is mainly the responsibility of the Engine Department, but I watched the operation periodically throughout the day. It was very similar to some of the jobs I’ve done with Dad on the vacuum trucks, so it was easy to tell what was going on. After hoses are connected to the bunkering pipes just fore of the accommodation block, samples are taken for analysis, and fuel is pumped into two tanks. While the pumps were running I was advised not to take photos, as oil is electro-magnetic. (This did not stop the engineers wanting their photos taken while making repairs to the engine how-ever).

After lunch I did some odd bits and pieces, and then everyone knocked off early. I ordered a multi-point adaptor from a Duty-Free electronics dealer that comes aboard every day. Even for DF her prices are pretty good. What would be perhaps an $80 adaptor at home (has power-saving devices and other things,) cost me €9.90. It was delivered the same day.
Chief Cook Ramon (a portly Pilipino man with a moustache, in his early forties) came to my cabin later on and we exchanged movies, games, etc, and generally hung out. Pillipinos are reminding me more and more of Hispanic people, which makes sense. What makes more sense is that many of the Indians on board are from Goa – a part of India previously occupied by the Portuguese. It seems perhaps 65-70% of people on-board are Catholic. Others are Hindi or Muslim. This is further driven home by the popular iconography in the form of small cards or clippings pinned up around the accommodation.

Bunkering was completed at around 21.00hrs, and it had started to rain -I kept tabs from my cabin window. Incidentally I’m not sure that this may be called a port-hole (it’s even on the port side) because its welded shut dammit. I offered to the Chief Mate to help out with anything that needed to be done due to the rain, and he said he would call me (there is an internal phone system in the ship) if necessary.

Took heaps of photos today. The food is mostly Indian and Pilipino, which is A.O.K. with me. If I wanted it, Chef would make me something more to suit my average tastes. Every day after work finishes, we can call a taxi (paid by the ship) to take us into town to use the internet and do what we need to do. For now I’ll save my money, but I’ll go in to check emails etc on Saturday. Were not dead yet, so obviously the large hadron collider experiment nearby hasn’t gone wrong yet. That went through it’s first real start-up and began testing yesterday, though the real experimenting starts early next month. The talk in the crew mess is of Brazil and the getting cheap “USB”. Many of the crew are purchasing their first computers, and I have to say that through this dealer is THE way to do it.

Friday, September 12 2008

Discharging the cargo (With EMO cranes.. see below) began EARLY this morning.. maybe 02.00. At breakfast the Chief Mate, after asking if I had had a good sleep, pointed out that “…a ship runs 24 hour a day,” and that he had been woken several times that night to attend to various things that required his on the spot attention. I commented after noting that he appeared as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as always that he had “..had several good sleeps.”

I should say here that eating has it’s own customs that change in port and at sea. At the moment we are at port and eat at slightly different times depending on what is going on at the time. I sit with the 3rd Engineer (Benedict Pereira), 2nd or Chief Officer, 4th Engineer (Sanjeev Tavares), and sometimes the Chief Engineer (Chief Tarequl Islam). At a table beside us sits sometimes the 2nd and 3rd Officers and perhaps one or two of the Engineers and the Electrical Officer. Behind us sits the Captain, and whoever his guests are on the day. I’m not yet sure what happens at sea, but it is much more formal and we eat in uniform at all times. We are served by the Mess-man (Glen Perez), who keeps a careful eye on what we are eating, when, and (I’m sure) what we like to eat and what we don’t. Although we usually dish up most things ourselves, he is quick to help out, serve specialty dishes that are in limited supply at the appropriate time, and to take used dishes away. Through the open doors of the galley I am able to see the crew mess. I have taken to going here for morning and afternoon smoko, to hang out with the boys and trade. I also go there to practice the guitar –I’m so rusty now it’s painful, but to play a musical instrument is a commodity at sea.

Only the deck-watch team (one AB, one OS, and sometimes myself) and Officer of the Watch has any nominal responsibility in regards to on and off-loading cargo- adjusting the mooring lines and ballasting respectively, and looking out for any damage that may occur to the ship as a result of the interactions between the mammoth pieces of machinery used, and such things. Part of deck watch is also security/gangway watch. At anchor they report any abnormalities to the Bridge or OOW.

I’m sure, although I don’t know yet, that the Engine department has it’s fair share of work to do in regards to this. They are also servicing the engine. Some major parts of the main Engine, including one of the huge pistons (it’s a 6-cylinder) need to be replaced. The older parts are exchanged and are often reconditioned. As the Chef Engineer has noted that I have taken an interest in the Engine room he has invited me to go tonight to “take more photos, take more photos” of them installing the new piston. I have to say I feel honored by this.

First thing this morning I was with the 3rd Officer Sandoval. First we replaced the fire extinguishers we had cleaned yesterday, and explained the CO2 bank, a room filled with rows of high pressure cylinders filled with Carbon Dioxide and used to suppress fires after the confined-space engine room or accommodation block has been evacuated. Otherwise everyone inside would suffocate from this usually well before they asphyxiated from smoke or were burned to death. After that he familiarized me with the emergency and fire stations, including the life-boats and rescue procedures.

Next 2nd Officer Rana got his turn instructing me. Firstly a basic run-down of the ballasting system. Ballasting as we were off-loading is something that is constantly on-the-go and although run from it’s own control centre by himself and the Chief mate, requires a lot of collaboration with the Engineers. Next he showed me around the various storage spaces for use by the deck department. Then he introduced me to the hospital, and we had some discussions about the medical practice on-board which is primarily in his charge. After this and being given the task of restocking the emergency medical stations around the ship (eye irrigations, etc), I was given the authority on-board to administer and prescribe treatments. Also I can raid the stationary cabinet. His other duty is as the navigator, and quarter-master. Although when at sea I will share watch with the Chief Mate, I have free reign in the bridge.

As there are inspectors coming through at the moment, for the rest of the day I made sure all the safety posters and notices on display were in presentable and correct order. That brought me up to dinner time, and here I am!

Took some photos of the cargo operations from the monkey island before sun-down, and shot the breeze with Bos’ for a bit when he delivered some new wet-weather gear to my cabin. Awaiting a call from Engineering any time to watch them replace the piston.

OH this is classic. The 3rd Engineer was talking about a mechanic or oiler that was “not quite right in the head,” but relates that in his cabin, either side of a big picture of his car, are two small photos of each of his wives. He was joking that this guy had a third wife…

Saturday, September 13th 2008

Business as usual. The Superintendent of Ships (like an Admiral for NEU), a tall and distinguished Brazilian gentleman, has been onboard for the last couple of days. I only found out that this is who he was after morning break, but I appear to have made a good impression on him following several encounters. I heard myself being commended to the Captain, so that’s a good sign, and likewise he requests my assistance to perform tasks that require a trusted hand. Where the Mates (excepting the Chief Mate, who is soon to get another stripe on his arm) and crew, I may never see again – this man even more than the Captain will be very influential on my career, whether I choose to stay with the same company or not.

We opened the ballast tanks today, and it was discovered during a survey that a small hole was present in Water Ballast Tank 6 Port exposed to the sea. We are riding high in the water as we have emptied out most of our ballast (except for Fore and Aft Peak Tanks), we have a slight trim (bow draught is greater than stern, so we slope upwards) and a very slight list (side-tilt) to starboard (we are moored with the starboard side to the port, and the port-side to the sea) which turned out to be 20’ (minutes, 1/3 of a degree) due to the continuing cargo operations (which last around 4 days in Rotterdam). I realized at this point that this is why it was difficult to close some of the doors in the accommodation block. Chief Mate Tyagi obliged my request through Bosun Sano to go down into the tanks for the first time with relish, and the paperwork (work order: ship space entry) was ordered amended via radio to the bridge. “Are you sure you will be able to climb back up again, Jared?” Chief grinned at me. I was a little confused at this and replied that of course I could. 28m down the ladder system, and I was standing on the reinforcing combing of the lower hull structure. Two transitional bulkheads (out of 9) run athwart-ships from port side to port longitudinal bulkhead in BTP6. Portside is obviously curved inwards towards the keel. The hole is covered by a cement-box. A diver, who must use a hyperbaric chamber (nearly a submarine) due to the depth pressure and length of operation, uses a vacuum plate to seal the hole from the outside. The cement box is then broken open and the area that needs to be welded completely dried. An Arc-Welder and some plate steel is then used to weld the hull breach shut, by a structural welding contractor. Climbing out I realized what the Chief Mate meant, because as well as the great height there is high temperature and restrictive clothing to be conquered. I climbed in and out of this cavern several times today.

The foreman of the contracting work-party (stevedores, divers and welders) is Dutch, and is accompanied by a Serbian. We all got on pretty well, and I used my very few Hravatski/Srpski phrases in speaking to him. (“Ja sam.. Dobar dan.. Da, dobro, dobro.. NE! ...E? Sta ima novo?” ..etc). Incidentally I’ve picked up very little Pilipino, despite Dad telling me some (although I don’t think they’re trying to kiss me when the pucker up their lips at something) and absolutely no Hindi. A little Spanish is useful, and often serves as a lingua-franca (Remember many of the Indians are Goaese). I’ll have to get sorted with that. Perhaps a little Mandarin wouldn’t hurt either. The non-officer crew know little more of English. I am beginning to understand some Dutch though, although it’s easier to read and I couldn’t actually come out with anything myself.

Re-organised the chemical locker at the Superintendent and Chief Engineer’s behest. It only took myself and 6 ABs 4 hours of hard work, so you can imagine how big something can be when the term “locker” is used aboard this ship.

Oh, the piston wasn’t replaced until about 21.00 this evening and I can just now feel them testing the engine for the first time since coming aboard. I watched the major moving part of the process, and all the Engineer officers and one of the engine hands (unsure of his exact position, or name for that matter.. perhaps our friend with 3 wives) enjoyed the opportunity to show off and be photographed. One guy got really mad at me for taking photos even without the flash, so I tried to keep him out of the shots. However with a special request from each of the Engineering Officers barring the Chief, I wasn’t going to go anywhere or stop. Faith N’s Main Engine is a Sultzer made 20k b.h.p. monster that runs on a variety of fuel oil/diesel mixtures. It occupies 4 levels of the engine room (about 15m high) not including the supercharger. Imagine your car having it’s own part-manufacturing workshop complete with most spare parts under the bonnet… and mechanics to boot!

Managed to open my port-hole today. Levered it open after being laughed at because I thought it was welded shut (“..to keep me from getting away!”). Discovered that it had been merely sealed by about 5mm of ships paint. Oh also I was asked if I could speak Americanese. Getting annoyed with the Americanese spell-check right now. A crescent is universally called a “shifter” here. Didn’t get into town today, but confirmed will do so tomorrow. All my little questions in my notebook have been answered. I will pick up by bars (rank epaulettes) in Brazil.

Sunday, 14th September 2008

Sunday we have off!! Mostly. Went down WBT6P again early this morning to help Bosun tidy and close up, tested a couple of fire hoses for an inspector, took manual soundings WBT6P and BTS6 from, closed one of the hatches, adjusted the mooring lines, and then tidied and mopped my room and did some laundry. Bathroom needs some minor plumbing repairs- the head doesn’t flush very well and the basin tap has more water coming out the casing joins and lever than the spout. Fortunately the shower remains an endless fountain of hot water. Slept, talked with crew members and a duty-free dealer in the crew mess, and welcomed a new Captain aboard. Chef made steak for me today! He is a good friend to me. We are constantly trading things.. it’s surprising what can be a commodity here. From here to Brazil will be a hand-shake period between the Captains. He is a solid-built Sikh man (so wears a long black beard and turban), Captain Bhupinder Pabla is his name. Spoke to Captain Razack, who was happy to advance me as much money as I wanted (I only wanted $US30, he looked disappointed). Now I’m awaiting dinner, and after that I’ll head to the sailors centre to upload this journal.
We sail on the afternoon tide tomorrow.

Later…
Well, fat chance of that. Internet was rotten at the seafarers centre, as well as overpriced for the type of connection –not that it was any kind of connection –at €2.50 an hour. Read a few emails, but didn’t even get one off, because the system kept crashing. Didn’t bother to try again as the staff were all smiles, platitudes, and no help. Everyone (self-flattery) will have to wait I guess until Sao Paulo. When you do manage to read this: Please send emails as perhaps I should expect this sort of thing more often.. we’ll see, anyway the more the merrier. I will read and relish them. THANKS MUM. The journey takes around 16 days, and we are likely to be at anchor for a couple after that. Quicker than I thought though… excited about actually getting under way. I will start watch-keeping duties with the 1st Mate as of tomorrow. At sea, bridge watch is 4 hours long and revolves every 12, so each of the three Mates get 2 watches every 24hr. In port, Deck watch is officially broken into 12 hour shifts between the 2nd and 3rd Mates, while the Chief Mate oversees cargo operations 24/7. Somewhere they each manage to get some sleep, as these are by no means their only duties. What needs to be done, must be done at precisely the right moment at port or at sea –usually immediately. Our profits and certainly all our lives can depend on it.

Monday, 15th September 2008

Cast off today. We were assisted out of port by 3 tugs. After some time we anchored, as the engine needed a few more minor adjustments. My first turn at watch-keeping saw me on the bridge with Chief Mate and both Captains at 16.00hrs til 20.00. Near 18.00 we weighed anchor and made our way SW through the channel.

After a few last minute preparations, three tugs sent up mooring lines to the ship –two fore one aft. A pilot boarded and the pilots flag was raised on the main mast –on the monkey island, above the bridge. One by one using the mooring winches we slackened the mooring hawsers, and stevedores clumsily cast the massive eye splices off the port bollards. While one team of deck crew secured the gang-way, and then rigged a pilot ladder on our port side, 3 other teams manned the mooring winches where the tugs were held fast to the ship by towing lines. My station was aft with the 2nd Officer, with me operating he winch. 2nd Officer, as always, had a portable radio and was in constant communication with the bridge and the tugs. After clearing our mooring we reversed out and were spun around, bow towards the main channel. As we made our way to the harbour mouth the order came to let go all tugs, and this was done. We made way under our own power at slow speed (around 6kt. (knots) or 6nm/hr (nautical miles per hour) = 6’lat/hr (minutes of latitude per hour) = aprx. 6x 1800 m/hr (11 km/h) past the opening in the breakwater, and proceeded into the North Sea towards the English Channel at Ahead Full There is one regular speed higher than this – Nav. Full (aprx. 16-18kt. = 29-33 km/h without the interference of current and wind-sheer). In an emergency the Officer of the Watch can request emergency power, which is uneconomical to say the least and may cause damage to the engine and perhaps structure too. The results would depend entirely on the skill of the Chief Islam of Bangladesh.

Whilst on our way to anchor I assisted the deck crew in stowing the mooring lines. This took a couple of hours, but was quick work considering and made easier by the 10 hands put to the job. Some went down small hatches into storage spaces under deck, some were simply coiled onto drums permanently fixed to the mooring winches. Incidentally it is possible to control different sections of the winch arrangement by engaging and disengaging some rudimentary clutch mechanisms. This is common to all ships. For instance the two fore winches control the anchors, two drums each for mooring lines (one used to supplement storage,) and one auxiliary “surging” drum. To operate, pull the lever in the direction of Heave or Slacken until the appropriate gears meet, engage the appropriate clutch, release the brake, and again use H/S control stick to move the line in the necessary direction. Anchors also use an additional guillotine clamp that fits into place on-top of a horizontally laid link –on this ship using hydraulic power –and pinned.

After some time we took off way and prepared to anchor. My job was to count the number of “shackles on deck.” Faith N has a port and a starboard anchor, both on the bow, and each weigh 18t (well, it’s gotta hold over 300kt of ship and cargo). They are housed in the hawse-pipe, and the chain attached to them runs through this, onto the deck, through the winch by which it is controlled, and into the chain locker. Every 27.5m of this chain after the anchor is a joining shackle. We let out 6 shackles into the water, applied the guillotine. This means indicated to me that the depth of the water was aprx. 33m, as the chain in the water is usually 5 times the depth –I found later that it was more like 40m, but because of good weather and the short time of our anchoring the Captains decided that 6 shackles would suffice. I also learned that in bad weather, or a much longer stay than usual (being around 3-4 days) more shackles were put in the water. I also learned that Faith in is somewhere in the top 50 of the biggest ships in the world… considering the number of ships in the world fleet… google it.

At 16.00 began my first Bridge Watch. I basically familiarized myself with the myriad of controls… which I’m quite used to because I play come complex computer
games. After a while Chief Mate went down onto the deck to oversee the weighing of the anchor (hauling it back up,) and an AB was called to take the helm. The two Captains started giving orders, and debating in Hindi (as two learned masters are like to do in any language –however unsettling to those around them who inevitably become the pawns of argument). I was allowed to control the thrust of the ship. My first order on bridge was “Ahead Slow.” I masterfully moved the thruster control 5 clicks forward from Dead Slow Astern, and felt very proud of myself. I wrote down what I did in one of the many kinds of ships log kept on the bridge, along with the time, and my initial. My second order on the bridge was “Ahead full”. “Ahead full aye, sir,” Two clicks forward, scribble in the book. My confidence soared with the wine and pulse of the massive engine several decks under my feet. “When did you get up this morning, Jared?” asked Capt. Razack. “Around 07.30 this morning, sir.” “And you’ve been working the whole time?” “Yes sir.” Third order came, “Thank you Cadet. You may now rest.” I was dismissed with a shooing hand gesture even I would be proud to use.

I raided the galley for ice-cream and chocolate sauce, looking forward to the morning watch. Chef Ramon was long asleep, it was 20.30. Chief Mate came by around 21.00, to see what had happened on the bridge, and told me to simply come onto the bridge when I felt like it… some time between 04.00 and 07.00. I finished watching “Bad Taste -uncut” and went to sleep.

Sea Week 1, September 16th-21st 2008

Under Way

Faith N runs by local time, and also by GMT to compare with in log books. I awoke at 06.47 Tuesday (Should’ve been 04.00 for my first morning watch -I found this time on my laptop) and looked at my cell-phone, which I use as an alarm-clock. Batteries were dead from searching for a network, and recharge had obviously failed… need to find another solution, as I set the alarm the night before. I quickly washed up, put on my uniform, and briskly got up the stairs to the bridge. Chief mate was talking to the AB Helmsman, and was relating a horror story about how every hour for four days he had to go to the bridge and sign his own special register –because he was unable to keep time. It was ok though, he had not ordered me to the bridge to the beginning of the Watch anyway.

My working day is divided between learning what all the buttons and lights on the bridge do, and learning the ropes on deck. Usually a 12 to 16 hour day.

On the bridge I am concentrating on the basics of navigation, how the library of charts works, Radar, and how to cox the helm of the ship (steer it). Chief Mate Tyagi’s quiz sessions often prompt me to random research projects, and so I looked through an encyclopedia of all the ports in the world at New Zealand Ports. Auckland is pretty much the biggest, although I thought perhaps Tauranga or somewhere else might be. Captain Razack related his experience of Ports Tauranga and Taranaki. I’ve prompted a bit of discussion group centered around celestial navigation among some of the bridge staff and so am being taught to use the azimuth (fancy old-school compass) and sextant. Third Officer also slipped me a cool little program that predicts the whereabouts of some trustworthy stars (I’m not supposed to tell he Chief Mate, because I need to learn to use a star chart –and in fact learn to identify stars on sight). Part of this is also being able to calculate the exact moment of sunrise, sunset, and meridian using our position, a nautical almanac, and of course a calculator. I’m starting to get good at this, and I’m refining my formula to be more precise. Funnily enough I own the best calculator on the ship.. or at least the best one anyone’s brought onto the bridge. Pretty good for a last minute $20 purchase before a math’s exam.

My first time at the helm was a bit of a drama, although through no fault of my own. We were traveling along the same route and in close proximity to about half a dozen other ships in the English Channel. At some places here Faith N has special privilege, and displays a cylinder signal on her foremast indicating that we are constrained by our draught, and therefore cannot deviate from our course. Chief Mate and I were on the bridge, and we had set to autopilot. We were discussing the steering limitations or something, when everything including the engine shut off and an alarm was sounded. He stopped mid-sentence, swore (only time I remember hearing him swear), and called the engine room. We were dead in the water with other vessels close by, in constricted waters. The situation was quite dangerous. We could have been hit by another ship and/or drifted into shallows and run aground. The bridge was soon filled with people, probably all feeling a useless as me to do anything. Everyone was looking around us, but fortunately no-one was on a collision path with us. After a few minutes everything came back on, and I was ordered to “midships the helm” and move straight ahead. Brutal.

Another funny/dangerous thing happened on the 16.00 to 20.00 watch. At around 20.00 the Third Officer (Jess as I now call him.. although Jesus is pretty tempting) and an AB came up to relieve us. I hung around for a bit, and as per usual at this time of night near the coast of Spain, the civilian bands were alive with random chatter. We were laughing at some of this, but thinking of how “sad” it all was. All of a sudden a warning call came on the channel 16 receiver, reserved for distress signals. “Securite, securite…” immediately everyone snapped out of the casual attitude, “…plenty monkey on the water.” We laughed so hard that nobody could respond to the misdemeanor in any good time. Near impossible for us to identify the offender anyway.

On deck there is a lot going on. The deck crew are divided into two teams. One team is descaling some of the ballast tanks. This requires harnesses, scaffolding, and a weird pneumatic tool purpose-built for the job. It looks like an alien pistol, with a series of protruding metal “fingers” that vibrate and can move around. There are quite a few pneumatic charge points around the deck. Basically the job is to clean the rust off the underdeck spaces –which is also done on deck –and to repaint the surfaces with anti-corrosives. Another team has been given the job of giving the cathedral sized holds and general clean and repairing the blocked bilges. Bilges are troughs at the bottom of the holds that pump away any collected water.. obviously a bad thing whatever you cargo, but especially with iron ore. I float between these crews, taking note of how they do things, taking photos, etc. Next week I’ll settle into a proper routine.

Quite often I help out one of the POERs (Petty Officer Engine Room – basically a fitter/turner) to make new bits and pieces for the ship, after he discovered I was good in the workshop. We have replaced some elevated winch platforms, welded together a frame to keep some galvanized steel stock in place on deck, repaired tools, and some other things. The other POER (there are two) is building a washing device for oily rags, out of some old 40 gallon drums. It basically filters out the oil and leaves a serviceable rag, saving a lot of rags from first use incineration. Incidentally everything onboard that can be recycled, is. My welcome in the Engine room is growing.

I have also been given the job of sounding the ballast tanks every morning, and recording the water store levels. Soundings are important because the ballast gauges are in serious need of servicing. It is also important in the detection of a leak, as I found at port was something that happened often enough. Basically I drop a long line down a tube above the respective tanks and measure the water ballast levels. This is a lot of arm-work, so I usually take an ullage –which means I only drop part of the line down and subtract the air-filled pace from the water-filled. Fresh water levels are also extremely important. The ship produces around 10t of fresh water per day whilst moving, and must provide for the boiler, drinking, and bathroom reserve. We expect to be at anchor off Tubarao for nearly a week, and there were a few plumbing problems after our departure, so (mild) rationing is a reality at the moment. Wasting water is a BAD thing at sea.

Every Saturday we have emergency drills. This time we ran through a general, abandon ship, and fire drill. Both general and fire-drills necessitate us to meet at a station aft and await further orders. This is signaled by 7 short bells, followed by a continuous bell. This is sometimes supplemented by an announcement by the Captain over the speakers. The abandon ship drill saw us in two team next to either the portside or starboard lifeboats. We practiced boarding, with some crew at davit stations (a davit holds the lifeboats, extended over the water and lowers it to where it is dropped), starting the crank-turned engine, etc). For the fire drill we simulated a fire in the galley. The most common place for a fire to start anywhere is in the kitchen. Afterwards I demonstrated to the crew how to put on the fire-fighting gear, and other equipment was explained. Later that night there was another alarm, and I grabbed my lifejacket, immersion suit, and hardhat and moved quickly towards the nearest exit.. but it was a false alarm. There have now been a few of these, but I am pleased that no-one (well, no officers) seems to get complacent about them.

Sunday is our only “day off,” which means cleaning and inspections. For some of the crew it also means karaoke and beer night. Whilst cleaning my cabin, I happened to find a full tray of Royal Dutch beer under my bed. “Why not?” I thought, and after being relieved from watch that night went to the crew mess to have some brewskis with the boys. I actually had a go at the Karaoke… more than once… ‘nuff said. At least I got a lot of compliments, but I have to say there are some pretty good vocalists among the crew. That is if you like Solid-Gold and love songs to midnight styles.

Our course has brought is into the North Sea, down the English channel, Belgium, France and the Bay of Biscay, Spain, Portugal, Morocco (into Africa) Madeira, the Moroccan Sahara, and well soon reach the Canary Islands.. It’s getting much warmer on deck. Also I’m noticing the wildlife around the ship. Little birds hunt for little bugs on the bow, and they bring bigger birds. One morning, off the coast of Portugal and fair sized raptor-of-unspecified-species landed beside me near one of the hatch covers. I had been watching some “little birds” from the bridge earlier red and brown coloring with long tail and prime wing feathers. I realized that this was one of them – and that they weren’t so little after all. It must have been about half again the size of some of the bigger hawks I’ve seen at home. Like most all of this kind of thing I don’t have my camera at the ready. A pod of whales apparently decided to surface next to the ship and swim to our portside for around an hour at about 10.30 one morning. I was working on deck, and yet completely missed it.. Captain Razack told me later about it.

Eyes are peeled.

Sea Week 2, September 22nd-28th 2008

Crossing the Atlantic

Week one of having a set in stone schedule. 04.00 watch is optional, but strongly recommended – and usually I’ll turn to for it. Breakfast at 6, then deck duty at 7. After lunch at 12.00 I rest until 16.00, when the next watch begins and lasts ‘til 20.00. Sometimes I stay longer, usually the Captains hold high converse on the bridge until late. Chief Officer and Third, along with one of the ABs are still usually around. I continue with my studies non-stop on the bridge, and we’ve been focusing on my word-perfect memorization of the Collision Regulations. Anyone who knows my memory will understand when the Chief Officer getting pretty frustrated, and even became impassioned at times. Once we took a short break and I went to look at some charts where Captain Pabla was at the chart table. Captain Pabla is a man’s man, but he shot me a glance as if to say “better you than me, buddy”. I had to smile.

This week on deck we have been Chipping, Painting, and more chipping and painting. Roughly half the deck has been cleared of rust using a push-along sander and the “Jet Chisels” fitted with descaling tools. The temperature on deck has been around 35°C. Lately we’ve been instructed to keep the port-holes and hatches closed in the accommodation block, to keep the cool air in. I feel sorry for the engine department.. gets around 45° down there. Sometimes we get a cool breeze. I’ve tried to nab the Panama Leads, through which mooring lines are passed, while working on the bow. They act a bit like a ramjet as the ship moves or the wind blows. Once the paint has been stripped and the larger buildups of rust have been removed a pneumatic burnish is used to polish the surfaces up a bit. Then several layers of anticorrosive and protective paints are applied. The first few are applied only to prepared surfaces, then the top coat over the entire section in the ships uniform sanguine. I’ve started to enjoy chipping, and although the job is viewed as tedious (and sometimes I agree) the hours pass quickly.

I thought about doing a bit on fashion onboard off the coast of the Sahara and approaching the equator, but I haven’t had a lot of time to take photos this week. Next time, on the way to Taranto. Stay tuned, it’s going to be good. Flying fish of various kinds are as abundant as… flies on the land. Small white ones, large blue ones. I keep hoping that one will find it’s way on-deck like I’ve read about in so many accounts of sailors in this part of the world. Unfortunately our freeboard is much greater than any sailing ship I’ve read about or seen, and I don’t think it’s going to happen. I’m told at anchor several crew members enjoy fishing – I’ll have to try. I really want to know what a little bug is that I’ve found only one or two of aboard. About 2-3mm long, SQUARE with a small triangle head, and metallic copper in color.

The crew has dramas, as is to be expected, but I’m not uncomfortable with feeling a bit like an outsider. I’m the only one who speaks English as a first language, and I’m a noob. I’m sure I don’t pick up on half of what goes on. Therapeutic. Still I hold a bit of charisma among the ranks, and I get people talking to me and asking my advice on certain things. Many of them are nearing the end of 9 month contracts, some will only return home for three. They can’t ignore the money, and most have families to support – but like any similar situation, no-one likes to think about money. It undermines more .. “human”.. values. I’m hearing quite a few complaints, some depression, some quiet endurance. A couple of crew members (who shall remain nameless) speak to me about it. Some are certainly trying to push the feel-bad vibe onto me because they think things will go easier for me and because I outrank them. That’s OK. Some open up in some crazy ways. Lots of questions about the golden liberated western civilizations.. some outright disturbing preconceptions, some quite astute observations. I really do need to be vague here, sorry guys. Family show ’n all.

2nd Mate Rana is a constant source of comedy, which is his way of venting. It’s a dry kind of humor, but one I can more than appreciate. Hassling the Chief Cook in gibberish, then accusing him of “seeing too many mermaids.” I met him on the bridge one afternoon and he started talking to me after greeting “Hello, hello my friend..”. His assisting AB thought he was speaking to him, and Ranjeet shot him down “NO! I was talking to my friend I said. Not to you!” Once I was going to ask him (as quartermaster) for something.. “Of course, Of course my friend. Everything is possible!” he confidently stated.
“Do you have a 3V battery like this (shows) for my calculator?” I ask with positive expectation..
“No. You should have asked when we left port,” One week ago when it was fine. Obviously not everything.
For a while a plate of Chilies appeared on our “buffet.” No one touched them, and they still got put out. Ranjeet was the only one to say anything, of course. “Why you feed us this? No-one-likes-it, take it away! Good food for crows maybe.” He does a pretty funny crow cawing impression, and continued. Poor mess-man. He could do without the stress.

Early in the week we made a significant break with the African coast. A little after the Canary Islands (Monday) we encountered a random yacht – we must’ve been over 100 miles off at this point. It came quite close, and kinda snuck up on us. We kept an eye on her, because if we had hit her we may never have known about it. They were probably wanting to get a closer look at us, and were probably visible from a distance of around 15 miles or more that day by eye. Certainly if they had radar they would’ve seen something big on it from far nearer the coast. We only travel at around 13-14 kn. at cruising speed. The ship is getting old, and dry-dock will be sorely deserved. After passing Mauritania, Sengal, and the Arquipelago de Cabo Verde (Cape Verde, about 384nm off Dakar) we ventured South-South-West on a heading of usually 210°T (True, based on true north) into and across the Atlantic Ocean heading for South America. The weather has been pretty mild the whole time, and often a glassy sea. At around 16.00 on Friday we passed close to the Penedos de Sao Pedro e Sao Paulo (Islands of Saint Peter and Saint Paul). Then yesterday, passed through the Arquipelago de Fernando Naroha. Although the British Crown and therefore the Admiralty that produces our charts recognizes the EEZ (Exclusive Economic Zone), the outermost territorial waters of a country to be no more than 200nm from a coastline, were expecting Brazilian Navy contact at around 500nm. We passed 190 miles from Cabo Calcanhar, 160nm from Natal, and at around 14.00 today (Sunday) we will come within 100nm of Cabo Branco. We’re In Brazilian territory now.

By the way whenever I use the term miles I mean nautical miles. A minute is 1/60th of a degree, likewise 1/60th of a minute is called a second, so it runs: x°: y’. z”. Usually we record as x° y.z’, with parts of minutes given as decimal (base10) instead of in base60 using decimal characters, like time is. Latitude and Longitude are based on the angle of sea-level position relative to the centre of Earth. 360° is easier I guess than dividing a circle into 365.25° (the Earths journey around the sun in days). As I’ve said before 1nm equal to 1’ can be traveled at 1 kt. in 1 hr. 1” (second, remember?) we call a cable and is roughly equal to 275m – the length between 10 shackles on an anchor cable. This is even better than metric to me, because it’s based on something nearer to absolute. We won’t talk about the other kind of miles.

On Saturday our drills went a little differently. First there was a “fire in the chemical locker,” another hot-spot for fire. Then we practiced the emergency steering procedure, due to popular demand (I asked the Captain the night before). In the event that the bridge for whatever reason unusable, the Officer of the Watch will locate themselves in the best position possible with a radio, and other navigation gear available. Aft of the main engine room, is the steering flat, where four massive hydraulic rams actuate the rudder. Another person with a radio locates themselves here and transfers control directly to the tiller at the opening of a valve. Radio instructions are received and repeated back as usual, and the tiller is operated there using a 2 directional normalizing lever, and an arrow pointing to a spot on a plate on the rudder shaft housing marked in degrees (So you push the lever one way until you can see the rudder angle indicator in the right place, then let go of the lever, it springs back to the neutral position, and the rudder stops moving.) I and a few others had a go at maneuvering the ship from this position. Then the Chief Engineer ran through with everyone in small groups the operation of the internal fire suppression system in the CO2 room. I did this before with 2nd Mate Jess earlier but repetition is the whole idea of drilling.

On the aft deck immediately after this, my OS (Ordinary Seaman) friend Alex and I were seized, made to strip to underwear, and plastered with grease, paint and eggs by all comers before being hosed down with seawater. Alex has some pretty interesting hairstyling too, but I am fortunately immune to this ;-) . This came a few hours late but the ritual is known as the crossing of the equator baptism, (we crossed the equator at about half 9 the night before and I threw my new silver earring to the sea privately as we did so,) and was administered to anyone who had never done so aboard a ship before.. King Neptune and a simulated “bump” obviously do not enter into it on this ship.. only some mild humiliation. Man, did they enjoy that. The Captain Razack with the Chief Engineer looked on from the bridge wing smiling, like a Caesar at the coliseum. Where were you, oh lord of the briny depths? Fishing maybe? Later we played 6 house bingo over some lagers, and I won $US20 profiting 5 after winning the “First House”. It is easy to tell that Chief Mate Prashant enjoys playing the game-show host, and he does so with flair. Like the games title, everyone buys a ticket with 6 houses each having three rows of 9 in grid. In each row only 5 numbers are entered in various positions- the numbers on each ticket do not repeat. The total pool is broken into several prizes for various combinations. First and second full houses are the big winners. Then options decided before each game of first to get top row, middle row, or bottom in any house. Last man standing means everyone stands, and the last on to have a house totally unchecked with a number wins. Bulls-eye means the first to call the third number of the middle row of any house. You get the idea. To avoid problems, the game was limited to three rounds – meaning the most you can loose is $US15. I made an ok win here, and winning first house in any round means you make a profit – but Ranjeet the 2nd Mate, won about 6 or 7 prizes through all three rounds. Everyone, including Captain Pabla, were baying for his blood. He of course enjoyed that immensely.

It looks like there is an early opening at Pier II at Tubarao, so we won’t have to stay at anchor long. Expected mooring alongside at 08.00 in the morning of the 1st of October. Chief Mate, Prashant, has advised me (after tip-toeing around he subject) “Go, get off this boat for a while and see Brazil. I am stuck on this ship. Get ready and get off as soon as we’re moored. You only have 24 hours.” Yess! He gave me a list of things to do on port that will benefit the ship. He is also going to order me some epaulettes and bars to wear from the chandlery. He, Captain Razack, and some other crew will be relieved here.

#1 stop, internet café.

#2, HELLO, VITORIA SEE-TAY!

Sea Week 3 and a half, September 29th- October 9th 2008

At Anchor off Porto do Tubarǎo

Monday saw us making steady way South by West (a heading of roughly 191°) along the Brazilian coast at around 13.5-14.5 kt. We have a very mild stern current, which gave us an extra 0.5 kt – I should explain here that my earlier assessment of the ships speed was taken in the English channel, which at 16-17 kt added an extra 3 kt to our SOG. This is due to the channeling affect the channel has on the current (surprise, surprise, but now you know it was flowing to our advantage as we moved SSW to SxW). This means our journey back will either be slower, or we’ll take a more advantageous route – the latter seems more sensible –until we reach the point where we want to enter the Bay of Biscay and pass through the Strait of Gibraltar into the Mediterranean. Port authorities in Tubarao are giving us a bit of grief, and we are unsure when we will be mooring. They keep changing their mind. Because of this it is possible that Chief Mate Tyagi will spend an 8th month onboard (his contract was for 6,) but then we could also spend over a week at anchor. Prashant swings between dejection and elation at the thought of seeing his wife and family again. This, from a selfish point of view suits me fine, as he is a good friend, an excellent teacher, and a known factor –but I really feel for the guy. He is exhausted. Captain Razack is also late in leaving, but being that his relief is actually aboard with us he proclaimed to me that he was “always on holiday”. With the amount of work he does I’d hate to see him actually on the job.

My basic celestial navigation and calculations are getting quite good. Now I can calculate local sunrise and sunset to within 30 seconds, and be spot on with the sextant, verifying my findings with yet more calculations based on the GPS, almanac, and other sources of 2nd-hand information. I’m starting to calculate magnetic compass variation using the Sun’s position (amplitude), and can plot our position on the chart, calculate ETA’s, etc, quite precisely. Really getting to know how the charts work, and I’m amazed and just how much information is on them once you know what to look for. I’m starting to feel like a real navigator, and I certainly feel more comfortable increasingly not relying on electronics and other supplied intel to tell me what I want to know. I’m actually starting to LIKE trigonometry. Also I’m getting into anything Tx/Rx (transmitting/receiving); Radio, Radar, SART, EPIRB, Inmarsat, and the whole GMDSS (Global Maritime Distress and Signaling System) thing. I’d like to know a lot more about this field.

On deck we have been painting. Painting, and not chipping. That part is fine, just not much to say about it. Special paint. Top coat. Sanguine to brick red color. It’s really pretty important. You have to mix it with curing agent and thinner. Underneath it is an anticorrosive and another kind of paint, I’ll have to find out what. After finishing for the day I painted myself with a paintbrush and a paint pot. It has now been painted over, because my schedule on-deck finishes at 12.00, and the guys go ‘til at least 18.00 (with two hours of breaks obviously). Plenty of flying fish (white ones that remind me of rabbits), a bit more traffic. Birds have coming back and they seem to like gliding (seems like hovering to us because we’re moving) on the air currents that arise from our bow. On Tuesday as well as painting, we readied the mooring lines and gangways.

We dropped anchor at 07.00 Wednesday, and came to short stay with 8 shackles in the water (176m of anchor chain under-water), after sailing through and around the anchorage like a car-park, looking for a place to park. Captain Pabla really knows how to swing this beast around –and I think Eddie, the AB helmsman for this duty, felt the pressure of the Captain’s exact orders. There are a couple of dozen ships anchored around us within 10 miles. As we deballasted yesterday and last night we were rolling heavily (for a big ship like this). I had to wedge myself in the corner against the bulkhead and my bed to keep from rolling off, but otherwise it was quite relaxing. We are trimmed by the stern, with a draught of about 10.5m aft and 5.3m fore. As we came into the harbour, I sighted a large white whale with lots of black spots at around 05.30, and watched it as it circled the ship as we made about 2.4 kt. Captain Razack (finally, see below) said it must be hungry to come this close into port, but that they’re not uncommon – I can see Tubarao port and Vitoria city very clearly -we are only 3.4 miles away from our closest land contact. Didn’t realize how big it was until a team walked alongside it down the deck.. must’ve been around 20 to 30m. Minkie whale? Google it and see. I was tempted to jump overboard.

We lay very close to another NEU ship, the Bing N – a slightly larger bulk carrier, for a while. Her Captain and the Chief Mate have served together. I hoisted the courtesy flag of Brazil, as well as our house flag (NEU logo) and our port state flag (Panama). I also took regular positions and entered thruster setting changes and other major details into the bell-book (one of the many ship logbooks) throughout the anchoring operation. The sea is green again. You have to sail in the Deep before you can know how blue and obsidian blue-black it gets. Some ABS (American Bureau of Shipping, classification society like DNV and Lloyds) inspectors came to survey they ship on behalf of the port, so half the day was spent showing them around and opening hatches and manholes. I helped to show around a Brazilian lady with Captain Pabla, and afterwards where to wash up and eat. Captain’s orders. Had to make sure she didn’t fall down a ladder or get lost or something. It actually does happen, and I certainly wouldn’t want to fall down a ladder on this ship, let alone with no one knowing about it, and she’s a big ship. We’re still rocking quite a bit because our ballast tanks and cargo holds are all pretty much empty. We made pleasant conversation –she had just graduated as an engineer and had been working for DNV for about 6 months. She told me about the poor state of some of the ships she had inspected. Once, she said, she hit a bulkhead with a hammer, and made a big hole in it. They were refused entry into the port. No one cares about ships like this, except the owners who are made to care more about it when they loose millions of dollars in business and then more in repairs. Other ports will actually seize the ships.

At anchor it is equally important to keep a round-the-clock watch. It happens sometimes that the anchor becomes dislodged, and we begin to drift. We also change our heading, revolving around the anchor point, when the current changes –although this doesn’t happen here to a very significant degree. It’s definitely important to keep an eye on the ships anchored around us. Picture a number of kites attached to the ground in close proximity, and that should give you a beginning to what goes on here.

One night on watch with Captain Pabla (he had insisted Prashant get some deserved rest), I watched our closest contact (a small chemical tanker was anchored 1.4 miles away) picking up her anchor and move towards Porto do Tubarao. This was educational enough, until our proximity alarm sounded that she was within half a mile of us and getting closer. This sounds like a long way, but we are around quarter of a mile long. By this time Prashant and Captain Razack were also on the bridge. She crossed our bow within 0.1 of a mile (roughly 27.5m), close enough I though. The Captain sternly sounded the ships horn at her, and then laughed after we all knew all was well, and related two or three “close call” stories. One involved a warship coming this close to one of his ships but at speed (warships can go pretty quick) while he was her 2nd Mate. The captain of that ship radioed the warship angrily, only to discover that it was commanded by a very high ranking officer, and was dressed down considerably by said dignitary for daring to speak to him in such a manner. Captain Pabla is becoming more and more familiar with the ship and her crew, and consequently he seems far more relaxed. It seems he (like me) also likes wearing horizontal stripes, and reminds me sometimes of an Indian version of the crafty Cheshire cat. He plays ping-pong energetically, bingo passionately, and is a hands-on and experienced foreman on deck. Although opinionated and often raises his voice he also listens well, warns of danger, and encourages debate and good work. It’s clear he’s after the best solution for the job. He can usually be seen at the crack of dawn and twilit evening circumambulates the ships deck 3 times on his rounds. The man knows when to be a sea captain, and when to be a joker.

I often come on watch early. I like to shoot the breeze and pick up handy hints from my buddy the #2, Ranjeet Rana. I’ve earned the title of Wiz-Kid, because I learn things pretty quickly and I am better than most with computers- so he asks me for help improving an excel spreadsheet he has put together to assist him in analyzing his share trading. “Always read. You stop learning you die. Plenty to read here on bridge, plenty to do. You not learn anything like this..” he makes a grotesque imitation with a pained expression of pacing up and down the bridge and the wings, a habit of all the officers. Sometimes this is genuine exercise. The bridge-wings span the distance of the beam, the ships widest point (52m) and longer of you go round the back of the wheelhouse. After a bit of an explanation of working at the (anchor-watch) log and chart at anchor, along with a few hints on how to make things easier and quicker, we make jokes about the Portuguese we can hear on 3 or 4 stations at once over the radio. Of course some of the words sound similar to English.. we are dignified officers…ahem. “What is he saying, cannot push the boat?” .. “Oh, too much fish in his head..,” you get the idea. Every time I use the word “guy,” this guy or that guy, he has a good laugh. Apparently it sounds like the Hindi word for cow. I only just found this out –I’ll pretend I didn’t. After some time he confides meaningfully to me, “I not like to talk much. I am a quiet man.” Oh the irony.

The deck is relaxed at anchor. We work among strange birds, shiny green dragonflies as big as my hand, and the occasional timber colored moth as big as a small bird -as we make repairs to holds, hatches and tanks, more chipping and painting, fishing, etc. One of the petty officers and some of the crew were surprised one day when I got bored of them talking half way through a welding job we were doing, and I went ahead and did it myself. Surprised, until I melted a hole in the work –and then they laughed. I repaired it after, but it was pretty funny. Still it made an impression. Welding is a specialist job. Morale is definitely at a high. One of the ABs caught four edible size fish on a half-hour tea-break, using a cleverly designed self-made reel that attaches to the rails and using squid from the kitchen as bait. On Thursday night Captain Pabla commandeered the Bosun’s reel and had a go at fishing. 2 or 3 of the men caught morays, but they don’t want to eat them. I tried to put the idea into their head that smoked eel is very good, but surprisingly no-one believes me and now they’re bait. Chief Cook Ramon caught a 4kg snapper, which is the record so far for this anchorage –but they definitely make up for size in quantity. Sometime people ask if I’d like a go at fishing, but it’s not really my thing. I make gestures that I’d rather shoot the fish. It continues to frustrate me just how much cannot be captured on my camera. Weird beautiful things are easy to spot here, but either my camera isn’t good enough, things are too small or too quick to photograph. Incidentally I saw a Brazilian submarine, and HAD the camera… I happened to be documenting some repairs on a hatch cover at the time… see below. Crossed our bow at less than half a mile. The hunt is on when I finally get into Vitoria.

Also I’ve been noticing a small boat (actually a couple) that makes it’s way around the anchorage every other day and gets quite close to the ships. On Wednesday (8th) I saw it being escorted into the harbour by an armed patrol-boat. I’ll keep an even closer watch on the other ones. There’s always something going on, and I’m pleased that the other officers feel like they can rely on my eyes. We are constantly updating each other on what we see around us, even when we are not on watch duty- what ships are anchoring, which ones have been cleared to dock, what small boats, warships, or helicopters are or have been in the area and what they’ve done, their names, types, positions, headings –anything and everything may at some stage be important in some way. I’ve learned to read the trail of a boat or ship, and it’s usually possible to tell their course over the last half hour or more. Although I don’t officially keep an independent watch, I’m left alone on the bridge for longer periods of time. So yeah, I feel like I’m doing pretty good. Ships usually take 24 hours to moor, load, and set sail again. The waiting list is dwindling and as of Friday we expect to enter port on Monday morning, perhaps 03.00… After the actual biggest bulk carrier in the world –Pacific Berge. Her cargo capacity is only slightly bigger than us, but we are longer. Bing N (below) is longer still with an LOA of 338m to our 325. She’s all accommodation though, and has a comparable cargo cap. to us. She’s also 5 years younger than Faith N at 15. This is the age of maturity for a ship, and afterwards will require more regular and more detailed inspection including dry-docking every 2 ½ years like Faith N will do in late November in Cadiz. I worked out last night that our precise LOA in Nautical Miles is 0.1625.

Anyway.. berthing tomorrow!