I re-boarded the ship at about 15 minutes to 6pm, 18.00 being the time that all shore leave was cancelled. Apparently in my absence there was a bit of a worry that I was not returning, and the officers had turns at telling me that if the board time is 18.00 that I should actually be back an hour or so before this… even though before I disembarked I was advised only to be back before 18.00… OK. No Uniform as yet. The ship chandler had said that shirts could only be ordered by him in quantities exceeding 40 units – a bit of an over-kill – so a no-go. Such is life, but I’ve now been given permission to work on the bridge in civvies. Both my regular white shirts are now yellow and missing buttons due to a machine malfunction.
Prashant had been spending time with the new Chief Mate, Mahommad Mahmud of Bangladesh. The new C/O is a strange one, but I put this down to cultural differences at first and really I didn’t have any choice but to watch and see how he was. His English is not too good, but he’s friendly enough. Also the new Chief Engineer, Anatolii Budonyi had arrived in the morning. Chief is a big old Ukrainian giant, an ex-soldier, and in Prashant’s absence has been a key social ally. It’s nice to have another European on board, and we’ve become good friends. He is quite a joker, and throughout the voyage has been a constant source of amusement to everyone.
Chief is one of those guys that can be loud, put things in their place, and still make everyone feel good. Also because he has specifically requested European food made for him, and as a consequence I am eating steak and German sausage these days. Trying to explain to the Cook the concept of too many carbohydrates is a little difficult how-ever. Simply not eating them doesn’t work either, because Ramon is long-gone by the time the Mess-man is clearing away our main course. Anyway I caught Chief him playing Counter-Strike once. He was quite embarrassed at first, but now we’re trying to get a router and recruiting crew that own laptops to have team battles.
Before casting off the crew said their farewells to First Officer, Captain, and Chief Engineer. This is a big change in itself, and the next month and a half will see new Second and Third Officers. This kind of upheaval is or should be unusual, as it means that there is going to be a bit of trouble while so many people are getting used to their stations. Prashant and I exchanged emails, and I gave him my regards to his wife who despite disembarking a month or two before I arrived was constantly asking how I was doing. Captain Razack gave me his best wishes and told me he hoped to see me with stripes on my shoulder soon. Chief Islam gave me a half smile, a nod and shook my hand, which is quite an affectionate gesture and a certain mark of friendship coming from this guy.
Preparations for dry-dock are on the minds of both departments. For the first several days we assisted the Riding Squad –one of the deck teams, the Indians, who I learned is not always part of the ship’s compliment –erect scaffolding in the port-side bunker (fuel) tank. Although the tank is mostly empty, both man-holes were opened and a blower was attached to one of them to ventilate and push out excess fumes. This was then painstakingly cleaned in several stages (took about two weeks) by crew wearing filter masks and other specific PPE (Personal Protective Equipment). I assisted for a day at each of the stage, but mostly I was given other assignments.
Just before the cleaning stage of the Bunker Tank job began, Bosun, AB Ramilo, and myself cleaned out the Drinking Water Tank. High Pressure water-blaster, squeegees, mops and lot of cool cool water – at this point we were sailing back up the Sahara – a lot of fun for us all. After we shut off Chief says he wants me to make the sign-writing detailing the tanks inspection and maintenance date on the door. After this there was plenty of other things to be sign-written. This is a good job.
When-ever there is nothing else to do I help out Rahul the Deck Fitter (P.O/D) chipping and relining the brakes on the mooring winches. This is good because I get to see exactly how they work. Also I like dealing with the simple mechanics of these electric motor powered machines. Some of the smaller deck gear (not only hand-tools) is pneumatic powered. More sign-writing indicating when the Brake-lining has been replaced was required. C/O takes a lot of photos at the Captains behest, and for the ships records. Deck work is very much the same as an industrial plant.
Chief Officer MM is a bit of a puzzle to everyone. Captain flat out doesn’t like him, and being his watch under-study I have noticed that he is not the most professional (to say the least). Captain Pabla has taken to spending a lot of time on the bridge questioning said professionalism, and is forced to constantly remind him of the correct procedures for things. I will not list my own misgivings here, suffice to say I am glad of the support of the other Officers. I’m thankful I’ve read a bit of Machiavelli’s “Republic” as well as Plato’s.
This places me in a funny position. Captain Pabla, who is now in sole command, is spending quite a bit of time with me personally, which is unusual between a Captain and a Cadet and excellent for my education and motivation. He can be a grueling teacher at times, but nothing I’m unfamiliar with. As he explains I must take a lot more responsibility quickly both to make up for C/Os weaknesses and because the other two deck officers will soon be relieved and I will be playing a more. We are developing a bit of an understanding, and my respect for him all-round is growing.
In the mean-time I am in fact getting quite a bit of experience off the bridge. Chief Mate gets me to do strange little things which in the end make me look good and I learn a lot from, especially after he found out that I was good with computers (which in his eyes automatically makes me good at everything vaguely connected with computers)– such as reproducing scale diagrams sections of the ships blue-prints (using MS Paint -ahem), writing reports and plans for him in formal English or using excel spreadsheets, etc. My first language is a commodity here.
Quite often after lunch I forego my rest period to help 3rd Mate out with the Fire-Gear and Lifeboat Maintenance. I should add that everything being done has it’s priority set by what needs to be done before the Superintendent (the tall distinguished gentleman from Rotterdam) joins us in Taranto to accompany u to dry-dock. Apparently he used to be Chief Engineer on Faith N. Anyway, we inspected, tested, and repaired all the fire-hoses, their hydrants, and sprinkler systems, Breathing gear (SCBA), outfits, etc, changed lifeboat survival supplies, and did more sign-writing. He also showed me the drills schedule and gave me a soft copy of all the templates for these.
Early in the voyage we noticed by the tank soundings that WBT6P (a ballast tank) was getting a slight increase in it’s water levels. After monitoring for a few days it was decided that we would have to pump out and take a better look. Again we’ve sprung a leak. Due to the nature of the problem and a possible cause it was decided to pump out using the portable Walden patent pump, which is pneumatic powered. This took several days and it was my responsibility to monitor this and also maintain the pump. This would cut out several ties a day and I would have to go through the procedure of entering the tank, climbing down to the bottom, fixing it (usually all that was required was some WD40 and some W.M.J.J. (White Man’s Ju-Ju), then climbing out again. This is quite a task and requires constant radio communication and a man on the upper deck standing by for safety purposes. Once I’m down there though I actually find the tanks quite relaxing in a kind of romantic dystopian way. Every time different work is done the tanks take on a different kind of scenery. Usually like a Gigeresque, sometimes flatly Indiana Jones with portable lights makeshift bridges of scaffolding. The bunker tank, the crew in protective gear, structure and fixed platforms with full scaffolding looks like an industrial music concert that no-one could forget.
After the first week at sea on Saturday night, Captain decided to have a barbeque dinner by the swimming pool. Everyone (not on or relieved of duty) cooked their own steak, fish, whatever and did some drinking. There was music and some of the Indian guys started dancing later on. I got some pretty funny photos. Good to see people relaxing instead of at work or lounging.
This journey brought us Northward back along our previous route up the coast on north-east Brazil, near the Canaries, the Sahara and Morocco, and then we made a right turn into the traffic separation scheme in force through the Strait of Gibraltar –between Morocco and Spain. From there we hugged the Morroccan coastline, taking us past Algeria, Tunisia, Sicily, and finally turned northwards up the coast if south eastern Italy and into Taranto. This was a big operation, as this is a high traffic zone and weather was generally bad. Tempers on my watch were frayed and weaknesses were picked on mercilessly, because a mistake here can lead to disaster for everyone on board. I did OK here and I am becoming more and more confident and competent on the bridge –learning to deal with potential close quarters situations, operating the various devices to my advantage –and my responsibilities grow to meet this. Captain leaned heavily on C/O and there is a lot of doubt surrounding his future here. This part is driving home to me the importance of my studies, as well as being able to identify the needs if the crew, the ship, and the situation which can never be taught in a class-room.
One of the most exciting and dangerous parts of this voyage came just before we altered our course northward for Italy, when we were hit by a waterspout. I was on the bridge, and noted the cloud and weather conditions. My findings were conveyed to C/O and consequently ignored. I went out on to the starboard side wing and confirmed the spiraling green-black cloud formation was headed straight for us. The sky turned green, and I regretted I didn’t have my camera on me. The first branch of black cloud seemed to reach directly for me, and was in fact only a dozen or two meters over my head. I marched briskly back into the bridge with this cloud tailing me like a dog, and closed the door. Then it was like you would expect, being inside a sea tornado. The Captain was on the bridge in a shot. The deck was cleared and secured, underdeck spaces were evacuated and bolted shut, anything loose was tied down, and an extra watch-keeper from the AB ranks was ordered to the bridge. Birds and sailors alike struggled to take shelter where they could. One enterprising sea-hawk managed to perch itself just in front of the windshield for a good 30 seconds before it was unceremoniously blown off again. Once we were sure everyone was OK, all we could do was wait and watch. Visibility was zero past our bow, but the sea around us churned and the deck was for the first time awash. Our danger was compounded by the fact that we were hardly alone in this sea. However – this lasted only about half an hour, and was finished as suddenly as it began.
As we came into Porta do Taranto I went down to the Engine Room to see how things were done there. This was really my first time in the control room whilst we were in action. It was interesting to see what is happening down there while someone is operating the ship from the bridge, and in many ways it is similar. All four Engineers and the Electrician are standing by for this operation. As orders were passed on deck and to the C.R. via radio and ship’s phone, I could picture pretty much what was going on. This has prompted me to borrow a copy of a Marine Engineering manual from Rahul.
Taranto’s ancient structures are prominent even from the ship. I’m pretty excited that I’ll have the opportunity to explore it.
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