“Mi no hablar Espaniol” to “Soy hablar pequeno Espaniol”

Cadiz, Navantia Dry-dock, 12th November – 16th December 2008

I’ll skip to the chase for a moment.. central Cadiz is a labyrinth of Gothic churches, grand state buildings, medieval walls, and old two-three-storey shop/flats. It took me a couple of days not to get absolutely lost… and I never managed to fully find my way around everywhere until the last week. This impresses me in a city, because I cherish getting lost and seldom do it. Every part of it is charming –even if it still smells like a medieval city in places. On my last night I bought dinner at one of the squares (a good spot) –a large ale, some Spanish-style canonoli and a slice of whiskey tarta for €14… not too bad I guess. All the streets are real cobblestones.. no brick, and not much cement or tar-seal to be seen.

It is home to two castiles and a cathedral. One sea-fort is reached only by a relatively long sea-wall walkway that slightly meanders out from the beach. It makes for a romantic midnight stroll. Cadiz is between 6° and 7° North of the equator, and although most people aren’t swimming –the beach is still a popular hangout. Along the beach from the sea-fort is the (small) Castle of King Phillip and Queen Isabella. This has been restored and now houses a public (WITH NO COMPULSORY DONATIONS, EH?) art gallery, and is home to some quite important etchings, woodcuts, and paintings.

The Cathedral square marks the beginning (or end depending) of the fashion district –which I spent quite a bit of time in to begin with and settles on a pair of much needed shooter-style glasses from my new almost-favorite shop/designer in the world: Zara. In a row were Zara men, Zara women, and even Zara Children. Zara is styley and not greatly expensive. I looked at a suit too, and then realized I had one already just like it at home.. only in need of a minor repair.

If I come out of the street where the Navantia complex is situated, past the sleeping bum (permanent fixture), and then turn right I will soon come across a large and ornate monument to General Cortez the Magnificent. Along the Coast further along and I can climb the stairs onto a rampart wall. Lots of crazy kids hang out there and there is some actually artistic and sometimes moving graffiti. This has some real meaning to me where real struggle is evidenced behind as motivation. After this I find myself at my favorite lounge that’s name I struggle to remember. Groovy kitschy neon and fur place that plays weird music in the absence of darker alternatives in Cadiz. Further around the bend takes me along a string of marble paved pleasure gardens with alternating al antiqua and orientalesque themes, where artsy people hang out and smoke ….smoke and juggle and paint and perform. It should be remembered that Cadiz being very close to Gibraltar has alternately been territory to the Spanish (later Latinized) Celt-Iberians (caucasian people) and the North African/Middle Eastern factions via Morocco in the early parts of history –and this has formed what we know of as the classic Spanish aesthetic and culture. Further around brings us to the Castiles, and further still, around the back of the city with residential flats.

Coming into dry-dock was an adventure in itself. This required 5 tugs and two pilots. After my watch-keeping duty was finished, I was ordered to await and escort said pilots from the ladder to bridge. They came in separate boats, about 20 minutes apart. These gently guided the ship around the seawall, and into the Navantia complex’ largest dry-dock. Along with us in the complex were two old “Friggatos” of the same evidently anti-ship class by their armament, an MRV, and a smaller merchant ship. As our stern came into the dock, the gate rose from the water and we began positioning the ship using wire cables and our mooring gear so that she sat perfectly on top of some arranged blocks. After the gates closed completely the giant pumps began to remove the water, and the ship eventually settled on the blocks. We also opened our ingresses and let out what was left of our ballast.

Immediately the crane lifted officials and representatives of contracting companies onto the ship, and it all began. The Dock-Master, Jose along with our Superintendent (who didn’t join us in Taranto after all), were among the first. Power distributors, welding machines, Tool boxes, wires, scaffolding by the ton were lifted by the cranes as well. Two semi-permanent gangways were lifted and welded fore and aft along our starboard side. It was dusk when all the essential preparations were completed, and since immigration hadn’t arrived yet I went straight to bed.

The Deck Crew were put to hard labor throughout our stay. I have spoken to a few sailors who pretty much got a paid holiday when their ship has been in Dry-dock, but Faith N is a hard working ship. There’s always plenty to do. Every day Stores were lifted aboard by one of the derricks – food, beer, consumables, equipment, etc. We were the dog-men (directing the crane from the deck) and then ensured that things got to the right place. We were in charge of ensuring the various officials found their way to the Captain or the Superintendent. Later, when all the work on the outer hull was completed we moved alongside and moored just next to the dry-dock. Then we also had the job of attending the moorings, adjusting them to the tide. This was critical.. once in bad weather one of the forward hawsers snapped. Luckily no-one was near it, as this can be a fatal accident. Also, if we drifted out across the dock, we would have made short work of the two Navali frigatto, tiny compared to us, moored close-by for repairs.

If any jobs relating to the operation of the ship needed to be done such as maintenance of ship pumps we did this –one of my jobs was to assist in the maintenance of the telegraphed actuators that run through the void spaces, and control the pumps used in ballasting –which required going up and down the long ladders under-deck in pitch black darkness. The crew delighted in relating the story of a fitter on the ship who lost his grip on these ladders and fell to his gristly death. Apparently I’m the first one to use the cabin he did after this event. One guy actually went home in Cadiz, because he believed he was being haunted as he worked in the ballast tank where this macabre event took place. Because they are trying to unnerve me, I make a show of a comb and some other items I found in my cabin when I arrived –this usually sends them over the edge and they quit bothering me. Anyway, in short we had the same jobs as at any other time.

The main job of the deck however, was the major overhaul of our hatch covers. Seal gaskets were replaced, steel sections of the leading edge (where the hatch meets the stool of the hold) were replaced, cleating and some of the hydraulic gear reconditioned, scuppers and drains were cleaned and resurfaced, new fittings were fabricated and installed, the “cushions” of steel that take the load of the hatches and ensure they sit correctly were precisely measured and replaced, and of course everything was (of course) chipped and painted. We received new control boxes for them all, although only one needed to be replaced here. The last things we did on these was to recheck the hatches sat evenly on the “cushioning,” chalk tested the gaskets to ensure an adequate water-tight seal was achieved, and finally hose tested them to make doubly sure.

I forgot to mention the hold vents were overhauled. When the holds are full, there is quite a bit of steel inside. Something I learned only by being aboard –or rather thought about n this context after working with steel for quite some time now, was that iron absorbs oxygen.
If the holds are not ventilated this actually causes significant structural stress to the hull. Likewise, if someone entered a hold later it had been sealed for a week or two, they would very likely pass out.

The bridge got a few extra toys, such as digital anomometer and anographs, a new long-range ship identification device, some communications station upgrades, and a few other things. New computers connect the Captain and Chief Engineer to company H.O. - work is arranged and statistics sent back via the same kind of program available to my Dad’s fleet of trucks.

In the Navantia shipyards, we also share the deck with more than a hundred contracted workers who are doing various things around the ship. In a previous entry I mentioned that we were preparing our port-side fuel tank for work (there are two of these –port and starboard). One of the teams fitted an additional bulkhead –dividing this tank so that we are able to take another grade of fuel. Other structural repairs and maintenance were made. The holds themselves received attention to repair the damage of the giant derrick buckets used in discharging.

Among these contractors several faces became familiar. The Captain makes use of my friendships and often employs me as a diplomat. A couple of structural analysts from Singapore were interested in electronic music like I am, and stayed aboard the ship for their contract. An electrical Engineer from China I got on with in Rotterdam, returned here and also stayed aboard – as he came aboard, I saw him to his quarters in the stationary locker. There are those everywhere that identify with the (pan-Cultural) tribal/alternative movements, which I can relate to. Discussions about music, tattoos, piercings and drunken exploits, all sailorly topics, are often a sure bet in making new friends. One of the fire-wardens, who was quite taken that he was talking to someone from the officers ranks and also had tattoos and such, invited me for drinks at his apartment nearby. His lovely girlfriend delighted in playing the hostess- so I got to see the Spaniard in his natural domestic environment and learn about their quaint social customs (actually, of course, not that different from ours).

My first excursion into the city was as indicated above quite an adventure. Time went on and when duty allowed I would venture further and further around it. I became more familiar and usually didn’t get too lost. The first time I went out I met a flutist who was also one such proponent of alternative subculture, sported piercings and what-have-you. Cadiz is actually a quite conservative city, so people like that tend to stick out –if sometimes only to each other. My dress was never that outlandish but I guess there are subtle things like biker boots, and the slightly-less-than-subtly gothic Italian blazer I picked up in Taranto, as well as the whole dressed all in black thing, that gives things away. Anyway I threw him a few coins, we attempted a parlay, and he indicated to me that on early Saturday nights I should check out the beach in between the two forts, where a lot of musicians go to play. As I said before there are very few night-clubs as such. I met and spoke with quite a few people at these gatherings.

Towards the end of my stay in Cadiz, I began making some friends.. at least was able to talk/mime to some familiar faces on my journeys. This was helpful, because spending so much time on shore made me miss some people at home more than a little. I managed to rack up quite a toll bill using the satellite phone. Going to the beach and talking to the musicians, running into a beautiful Gothic couple occasionally and talking about how crap Cadiz was for alternative art-forms, being taught a “normal” weird friendship dance by some local punters (which I saw performed nearly everywhere by any kind of person near a pub or in a park), and trying to organise a recording from a flutist I met on my first day in town, all did a lot to settle my nerves. I also bought a music production suite for my laptop. This is a lot of fun when I get the chance to use it.

On to Tubarao via Algicerias, Gibraltar to bunker.