This is an excerpt from my journal traveling from Europe to China aboard a 1,000 foot freighter:
I am relieved to say that I have nothing whatsoever to do with running this ship. My contribution is to sit in awe of this magnificent vessel and the ease with which the expert crew seems to navigate it. I have been everywhere on board as there is no door not open to me (save the crew’s cabins, of course) and I spend my days in any number of different places.
One of my favorites is sitting in the captain’s chair on the bridge. This is the part of the ship where everything happens. I have a spectacular180-degree sea view and sun decks on both sides. In front of me, every possible selection of navigation equipment faces me. Seven oversized computer screens, hundreds of switches, dials, gauges and meters all serve a specific purpose. The radar screens let us know that we are never alone and with a small click of a button, we know the other vessel’s identification, statistics, ETA to next destination, and cargo.
The meters measure the engine speed, vessel speed, rutter angle, water depth, wind direction and wind speed. The clean-o-meter measures the ship’s rowing, which is how far the ship tips from side to side. The maximum a ship can tip is 45, any farther and it is upside down. So far this trip, we’ve reached 15, but the captain has seen 35 before. Thank you, no. I prefer calm seas and a light breeze.
This is the best place to be when we are coming into port or berthing a ship. I think by far the most incredible navigation to observe is the port at Hong Kong. They say it is organized chaos, but to me it is just chaos. There are hundreds of ships, some at anchor, but most traveling at numerous speeds going numerous directions each with their own objective. Freighters, tug bots, fishing boats, car carriers, dredgers, tankers, floating cranes, ferries, and yachts all take up space in this harbor and no one to direct them. At one point we had a small fishing boat right in front of the ship and were obliged to navigate around him, not because he had priority, but because we avoid a collision at all costs. The best picture I can draw is this: A huge field filled with hundreds of semi trucks, motorcycles, bicycles, pickups, sedans, SUVs, and tow trucks. They are all traveling in different directions and different speeds and the objective is to navigate your skyscraper through all of them. It truly is unbelievable and an awesome sight to behold. I have hundreds of photos of all this chaos, but I can’t seem to capture the wonder I feel each time we travel through it.
The engine room is also one of my favorites to visit, but I don’t spend a lot of time down there. Signs like, “Dangerous Area,” “Restricted Admittance,” “Warning,” “Hazardous Materials,” and “Emergency Exit” are posted everywhere. It is fascinating to see twelve huge engines turning and churning through the diesel. Words like, colossal, gigantic, and mammoth, came to mind as I watched this mechanical miracle at work.
Being a welder’s daughter, I wasn’t intimidated by the signs or the heavy equipment. Strangely I felt at home among the oversized tools and machinery, but nevertheless still in awe. The air was hot, almost suffocating. I climbed four flights below the main deck and followed a labyrinth of stairs, passageways and bridges throughout the bowels of the ship and would’ve been completely lost had I been alone. It was all reaffirmed to me just how big this vessel really is.
My most favorite space on the ship is called the forecastle. It is the very front of the ship and I am there every day, weather permitting . It is where the ship comes to a point and is the premier location for most sailors. One would think the wind would prevent me from enjoying this space, but strangely, it is quiet and most peaceful. This is the part of the ship that meets everything first. The dolphins and whales are all right here where the ship glides through the sea. The ship will occasionally disturb a school of flying fish, so they fly out of the water for an extraordinarily long time . . . just long enough to feed the passing flock of sea birds.
It is so quiet here with a simple breeze on the very bow of the ship and I sit with my legs dangling over the edge. Dad wouldn’t ever allow us to do this in the ski boat as kids, so it is peculiar that I can do this here, now. I can see nothing/everything from my vantage point: sky, clouds, sun, and of course sea. This is my environment; my nature preserve. It feeds my soul to be here. This landscape doesn’t change; it may be a different sea, but it is the same horizon. It is limited and it is infinite at the same time. I love it.
This is my life at sea. It is simple and fulfilling. I wouldn’t change a moment.