Stack 'em high, sail 'em cheap




Cabin key fob

 

MV MSC Alessia
My home
22 Sept - 14 Oct 2011





The small scary "bumper car" elevator

  



Supercargo cabin

Check out that view!



 At the time of last posting we were approaching Newfoundland - cue much teasing and conversation on the subject of the Titanic (she sank just about 99.5 years ago) and that we were about to sail straight over her. We did - I think somewhere in the dark of the night - I missed it completely! But I have to tell you the nights on the ocean are dark, but so sparkly with lots of planets, stars and worlds. It's incredibly peaceful standing on deck with only the sound of the waves below and the twinkling of the skies above.

   

The view from my deck-chair



The ten-day Atlantic crossing was the most tranquil and relaxing experience I shall probably every enjoy. Beautiful sunsets and rises; no cell phones, no internet, no email, no radio, no TV - and not very many people! Of course I did have lots of movies and podcasts on my netbook - and no less than 37 books on my newly-acquired Kindle (of which I read just one...the technology is great - I just didn't have the time .

Notes to Third Officer

Inside the Slop Chest





Enjoying the Slop Chest provisions!

In truth - as time went on, I wanted less and less electronic engagement and happily resorted to the old-fashioned method of communication - pen and paper. The Third Officer was infinitely patient (if slightly bemused) and responsive to my various requests for Slop Chest (Tuck shop) items (ranging from Diet Coke to deodorant); information ("What time is it - I can't remember if I have moved my watch, or even whether today is a clock-change day?"); and social life ("Whos around later?"). Simple!

As we sailed up the Eastern US coast and around Newfoundland the weather turned distinctly cooler and Hurricane Ophelia had left 5 meter (16-17 feet) swells in her wake (the queasy among you look away from these pics!). But once we "hung a right" and set forth on our Easterly course we had some fantastic weather:  big, blue sunny skies, hardly any wind and calm waters. I think I managed to get the best timing for my voyage - a month later and worse things really will happen at sea! I spent quite a few happy hours days just whiling away time and thoughts (the thinking was actually quite rare) on a sun-dappled deck.



These two pics taken 1 second apart - swell!



 

From Houston to Felixstowe the air slowly changed,: blue, moist, hot and heavy (Gulf of Mexiso/Bahamas) , through blue, bright, dry and warm (Atlantic)  through grey, wet and damp (more Atlantic)  to blue/gray, sunny, fresh and cooler (Europe). Temperatures ranged from Celcius 30 to 13 and back up to a warm and sunny 20.

 

 

Ship shadows on The Mississippi

 

 

 

Weather!

  

Chief "Cookie" hard at work

Substantial "refreshments" at regular periods continued to be served promptly and always with a big smile from the MessMan (Steward).  Typical menus include roast meat (pork, beef, chicken, ham) accompanied by cooked vegetables and potatoes or rice. There were some interesting combinations!.  Sometimes it was hard to tell if it was the Filipino Cookie's interpretation of German fare or genuine, such as the spaghetti bolognese with wiener schnitzel - which turns out to be a "real German" meal!. There's also a side table with bread and platters of sliced meats and cheeses as well as salads (not much call for that "healthy food). Entering or leaving the dining room for any meal is always accompanied by a cheery "Mahlzeit" ("Bon Apetit)" to everyone in the room.

The Master surveys the feast



MessMan/Steward






Oops...late for dinner again!



Fruit was not quite so plentiful and served in order of "shelf -life" which means "serially" (ie all fruit of a certain type is eaten for as many days as it takes, until it's all gone). Bananas go off first (three days consecutive eating); Watermelon (2); Pineapple (1); Grapes (1 melon (3); Oranges (2): Apples (5). 



Entering Antwerpen lock at night

 


 
  


Pilot on board!  Sunset seen from The Bridge.

 



The most important provision
being very carefully craned up - the beer!

 Coming alongside and departing port is always exciting (at times nerve-wracking for the Captain, who is in fact a very competent and calm Master). 

The potential for things going very expensively (and criminally, with jail sentences for the Master and Chief Mate) wrong is huge - as evidenced by the recent running aground of the MSC Rena off the coast of New Zealand.

As a passenger however, the comings and goings of the ship are exciting vignettes in otherwise blissfully uneventful days. There are bridges and locks to negotiate and once she is safely alongside, the ship becomes a veritable heave of activity.  

 

 






Gangway Watch

 



Provisions to the galley







Blue for Egineers

Red for Officers



Survival vessel maintenance
(changing the fresh water)

There's maintenance to the ship itself and routine tasks to be completed (especially servicing of the engines and machinery - for obvious reasons this cannot happen underway). Welding (decks, rails) and painting (everywhere and all the time - think Golden Gate Bridge!)

Provisions need to be taken on board (loaded by on-board crane) and there's a lot of scurrying about.

  

A friend I made in Best Buy, Savannah



The hunt for the elusive network



Maybe aft?

For the lucky few who are off-Watch when we come alongside, there's the mad scramble of running around deck trying to find an free (try to pick up a onshore open) network signal - usually not successful, but it doesn't stop the ritual. 

Or the second favourite on-shore activity - shopping!

Loading the hold and decks

Containerisation maximises shipping efficiency by shortening dramatically the duration of a ship’s stay in port and the delivery time of its cargo. Which in turn keeps costs as low as possible.  Everything is shipping is BIG numbers; one hour under a gantry (big crane thing to load/unload containers) costs $10k. So where a passenger ship will sail at night and is alongside in any given port to maximum onshore daylight time, a container vessel will get in and out as quickly as she can at any time of day - or night. Which means that to a (wo)man - you better be sure you know what time the "shore-pass" expires (time everyone has to be back on board), because the ship cannot afford to wait for you and the Master will show no mercy! I had a memorable sprint across the Port of Charleston - red-faced and clutching my laptop, camera and ship ID - just slighltly embarrasing... All this Dear Reader - just to get my BLOG updated for your edification and delight (in the process of which forgetting to keep an eye on the time!). Very entertaining for the Watchman at the top of THAT ruddy gangway (bane of my legs).  Luckily there is a defibrillator on board - but not needed on this occassion

  

Second Engineer with a small tool

The Second Engineer kindly gave me a tour of the engine room - which was really an eye opener. The engine itself huge, massive, enormous and loud. We were mid-Atlantic, so the engine was at full steam, pistons pumping like nothing I've ever heard (thank God for the "Mickey Mouses" - ear defenders).







"I'm going in."  What? "I SAID - I'M GOING IN!"

   

Big huh?
(it runs three decks down below)



 

Traditionally on the last Saturday at sea, the crew holds a celebratory party, however as the weather in mid-October somewhere west of Europe can be inclement, the Master dictated that we should celebrate on the fist Saturday, in calmer waters and warmer weather. It was slightly bizarre to be barbecuing on the aft deck - in the middle of the ocean, but I soon adjusted with the help of a couple of "small, sweet sherries", delicious food and convivial company. 



Keeping the Third Mate and the Master under control!

Apparently... dancing on deck can be slightly precarious (think swell and slippery surface); huge fun - but can lead to torn ankle ligament (as I know from personal experience!). Everyone drank copious amounts and we partied well into the night lit by a super-bright moon - magical!

Bosun and 2nd Officer

 

 

na zdrowie! (cheers / proost)
Officer Trainee

 

I had a couple of other memorable nights, including the "Farewell party" on the following weekend, which was a private crew party to which I was very generously invited. Several of the Crew were due to "sign off" in Antwerpen (complete their contract) and a VIP (Very Important Passenger) leaving in Felixstowe a few days later.  So it came about that just before we entered European waters, we had another international fest. "Delegates" from Germany, The Filipinos, Poland, and The Netherlands were seen (and heard) partying well into the next morning in the Crew Mess. Lucky there are no neighbours at sea (and the Captain's cabin is on the very furthest deck away from the Crew Mess!)



FIsh caught in the Atlantic

 



Second Officer and Chief Engineer

  

I did see the occasional visitor en route, one of whom clearly took a shine to me - he followed me into my cabin (the red one)!

 



Wind farm
English Channel

We made great time crossing the Atlantic, so we had to go to anchor for a few hours before a berth was available in Antwerpen. At which point I had a "sensory overload" moment - we had arrived at the first cell signal for ten days - and within seconds my phone (and 26 others) began beeping madly with SMS texts! I have to tell you - I did wonder for a moment what madness this is... using a little bit of plastic and metal to communicate. Having had only real and in person / real-time conversations for two weeks, it felt quite weird to have such "asynchronous conversations" - although it was exciting to be in communicado again (versus incommunicado!)  I also rediscovered how lovely it is to feel and follow a paper chart to map our location - instead of Googling it!

Although it felt familiar to be back on home turf, on some level, I was sad to come out of my "ocean" bubble - it's a shock to see people, ships and "things" again, a little overwhelming - it feels so busy. Sadly I also had to say "au revoir" to some lovely "compadres" as they departed the ship.  



Turns out Container Terminals are not always quite central to their name. "Antwerpen" (the Container Port) is 35KM (20 miles) from the town, although there is a teeny "one-horse" village within walking distance of the berth. On Tuesday, I duly set off to withdraw Euros from the bank (bad luck, it's only open Wed-Fri) and have a little "land-lubbing" walk.

But great hub-bub - the annual local bike ride was coming through the village (one street) and I arrived three minutes in advance! Excitement of the day over, I repaired to the supermarket (use the term loosely) where I managed to find a bottle of Dad's favourite Dutch tipple.



  
 

Great fun one evening when Cousin Cees managed to fight his way through thoroughly secure Security and eventually board the ship. He enjoyed an engine tour, I enjoyed his gorgeous Dutch flowers and liquorice gifts and we had a very German dinner in the Officers Mess.

Finally we really did stack 'em very high (shame about the view from my portholes!) and sailed the very short distance across the English Channel - the best cross-channel "ferry" I ever sailed on.

Thus it was that after six amazing months of adventure and nearly four weeks on the "ocean wave",  I disembarkedin the UK to glorious sunshine with seven pieces of luggage (nothing like travelling heavy!), a torn ankle ligament  and a very happy heart!

Perhaps a little too much "na zdrowie"  and not enough "night night"? 

Never.

Fin / The End

(Not quite)