Panama to Tahiti [well almost]
Our bedroom
Sunday 30th October 2005
We joined the navy to see the sea…
Sunday, as usual, starts with pains au chocolat and pains au raisins. Delicious!
It’s a bit odd thin king that we’ll not hit land again for eight days at least. I imagined that time might hang heavily when we were at sea, but it isn’t the case. The mornings are very easily spent doing the diary, looking at the Internet news which arrives from the ship’s office (rather biased towards France, but covering most major world stories) and having a walk round the deck, and sometimes a dip in the pool.
Today the commandant came into the lounge to ask us to aperitifs before lunch in the officers’ mess. Nice to be asked, and also a chance to find out what is going on, and when we’ll get to different places. A few comments about the rather misty incident in Lake Gatun from younger officers. The senior team are all very pleasant and welcome us into their mess. We speak a mixture of French and English. As a few of them speak immaculate English I think they’re humouring us some of the time when we speak French. However, with the mix of language we all understand each other.
I talked to the second officer and second engineer about their view of life on the sea. They were bemoaning the fact that there are too few officers on each ship now. It is apparently difficult to attract young men to careers on the high seas, despite the generous amounts of leave between voyages. Although on the surface it looks like a career where you get to see the world, in fact the port stops are often very short, frequently less than 12 hours, and there’s little time to see the places visited. They also commented on the lack of continuity of crews, often from Eastern European countries, who tend to work for a few years to set themselves up with a house and maybe a business, and then they leave the sea and are replaced by new people on a regular basis.
Sunday lunch is rather special, and lunch consisted of wonderful large prawns fried in butter and garlic, followed by loin of pork, beautifully cooked and as well as the usual cheese and fruit, delicious choux pastry buns a bit like éclairs, but without the chocolate.
The afternoon is easily spent sitting on deckchairs reading and gazing at the ocean as we glide by. Followed, of course, by another delicious meal in the evening. During the afternoon we saw a small boat out in the ocean, probably ten miles away from us. We were able to watch the boat using our binoculars for about twenty minutes. However, we were clearly travelling much faster and it became a speck in the distance and kept disappearing behind waves. It made us realise how vulnerable one would be in the event of a disaster to be floating around in a lifeboat, even a bright orange one – or even worse alone in a survival suit. The ocean is immense. It’s difficult to comprehend the scale.
The evenings are spent reading. The passenger DVD player is broken, and the part cannot be got until we arrive in Papeete on 8th November at the earliest. This hasn’t really bothered us, but it would be nice to be able to have music on in the passenger lounge.
Monday 31st October 2005
And what did we see, we saw the sea.
Today it rained for much of the day, and gradually got windier out on deck, so not much time spent outside. However, the ship’s library revealed a couple of good reads, so a pleasant time.
Tuesday 1st November 2005
We saw the Atlantic and the Pacific…
Today is All Saints Day. It is also the day we are due to cross the equator. We think that this will be at about 12.30, just in the middle of our lunch. I’ve read many stories of horrendous things done to passengers and crew members who’ve never crossed the equator by sea before. I await our fate with interest………………………………….. Nothing happened!
Spent much of the day reading and walking round the deck.
In the evening we sat with Raymond, Jeanine and Heide, and drank a bottle of champagne to celebrate the crossing. Another calm and quiet night.
Wednesday 2nd November 2005
And the Pacific was really terrific
Bumped into the chief engineer at breakfast and he arranged for us to visit the engine rooms on Friday afternoon. He also said that there was to be some sort of celebration tomorrow, Thursday to mark the crossing of the Equator – whether this is just for the crew or not we’ll no doubt discover.
I sent lots of emails today. Some to check on possible sources of accommodation for the first two weeks of our stay in Melbourne. The weather was lovely and we spent much of the afternoon sitting outside on the deck reading.
Clocks back an hour again tonight!
Thursday 3rd November 2005
We joined the navy to see the sea…
Slightly choppier again this morning. However, a lovely bright day to lounge about on deck! Today we’re due to have a barbecue in the evening, preceded by the ‘baptême’ of the five passengers and two crew for crossing the equator by ship for the first time.
We were collected by the ‘police’ from our lounge just before 5pm and handcuffed and taken to the front deck of the boat, where we were awaited by an amazing tableau of Neptune, his wife Amphrite, the navigator, the grand inquisitor, the bishop and the barber [all crew members gamely dressed up] the real captain and most of the crew who weren’t actually driving the boat.
The supplicants were addressed sternly by the grand inquisitor and we were all required to seek the forgiveness of Neptune for daring to be on the high seas, and in particular to cross the equator without his permission. We were all ‘forced’ to kneel and various penalties were discussed. Men and women received different penalties. The men were ‘shaved’ which involved having a disgusting pink mousse spread over our faces and then removed with a spatula. All neophytes were then offered the ‘penalty’ of drinking a disgusting drink. The drink was made by the chef, so we knew it wasn’t actually poisonous, but the two your French sailors made the most terrible faces. Either they were hamming it up for the crowds, or they were not used to the spices that were in it. It tasted sort of OK to us – rather like a non-alcoholic Bloody Mary.
Neptune and Amphrite then asked the navigator to check our position. Again, hammed up royally with a pair of wine bottle binoculars, then an enormous faux-sextant and then finally for laughs a portable GPS device. It was confirmed that we had passed the equator and that we could be baptised. We all trouped off to the compact swimming pool where, happily, the passengers were treated slightly better than the crew neophytes. They were thrown in the pool, fully dressed, and we were gently baptised with the bishop’s crook. We all received our certificates, which we need to keep safely against the next time we cross the equator by boat.
In the evening, supper started early with drinks for everyone on the ‘forward beach’ whilst an enormous barbecue [two half oil drums] was prepared. The wind was in the wrong direction to light the things properly, and so after 30 minutes of trying the second officer got on the walkie-talkie to the bridge and turned the ship so that the wind was more suitable. We should all have such a facility for our barbecues.
It was chef’s night off. He had prepared all the food, but we had to take our own portion and cook it to our liking. There was as ever, a mountain of food, but we were able to take and cook only what we wanted. The whole crew mixed well. The Romanians prefer to speak English, and the French are all capable of it, so we did very well for conversation also.
Weather overnight difficult for sleeping as the boat is doing long slow rolls which threaten to tip you out of your bunk. We have devised various ways of wedging ourselves in, and all in all, its quite soothing when properly wedged. It’s a little difficult with things like cups of tea. The roll starts slowly, and its not until half way through that you realise its continuing and that you need to rush for your cup or glass. Still its keeps you on your toes – sometimes literally.
Friday 4th November 2005
And guess what we saw….. we saw the sea.
There’s actually nothing to do – all chores are taken care of, there’s nowhere to go and so we have developed our own timetables. Kit goes up to the bridge mid-morning after breakfast to check that the guys are still doing it right. Currently the chart spread out on the chart table is absolutely blank, with the exception of the course line plotted across it. No islands, no land of any sort. The radar display is set at 40 miles and is absolutely blank. A few waves show when you look at the 5 mile radar. It makes you think when walking about the ship. If no-one noticed you fall off, that would be it. I somehow like to think that if the cross channel ferry sank it would be possible to swim. After all, I am a good swimmer and people do swim the channel and anyway you’d be starting from halfway across. But none of that applies here. Even if someone saw you fall, it takes so long to stop the ship I doubt whether anyone would spot you. I’ve been keeping a nervous eye on where the life belts are as I guess that ‘homme a la mer’s only chance would be to have a life belt or raft with a light and radar reflector for when the boat eventually gets back to you.
High spot of the day is a trip round the engine room. This has been laid on for us by the chief engineer who is also our guide. We are collected from our salon, issued with ear defenders and descend into the bowels of the ship. The engine room is familiarly known as ‘the cathedral’. You can see why as soon as you enter. The entry walkways are five stories up from the base. The engine is HUGE, very noisy and very hot. We’re not working there and spend all our time standing under forced air vents. The tour starts at the control room. Not my idea of a pleasant working environment – completely windowless with green consoles and computer screens. Less noise however and the ear defenders are not required. The chief engineer is proud of his domain but speaks very fast in language that he thinks is simple but is mostly incomprehensible to us. Happily Raymond is also interested and so the information is given to him, and the rest of us wander round as directed just being impressed with the scale of things. Seven cylinders, each of which can be isolated from the rest and worked on while the engine is running. Enormous horsepower, fuel consumption and all the rest. Generally its HUGE and turns the single propeller with enough oomph to spin us along at a little over 20 knots [approx. 38kph] 24 hours a day. That’s getting on for 1000km per day. Now that’s impressive.
Lots of BIG machinery, exhaust manifolds, and fans. BIG spanners and so forth. We can see that the boat makes all its own fresh water, electricity, hydraulics for the rudder and everything else. It’s the heart of the ship. We were all very impressed, but none fancied the engine room as a career. Many of those working there don’t fancy it much either, but CMA-CGM insist that all their senior officers are capable of being chief engineer or captain, and so you have to qualify in both.
Sunday 30th October 2005
We joined the navy to see the sea…
Sunday, as usual, starts with pains au chocolat and pains au raisins. Delicious!
It’s a bit odd thin king that we’ll not hit land again for eight days at least. I imagined that time might hang heavily when we were at sea, but it isn’t the case. The mornings are very easily spent doing the diary, looking at the Internet news which arrives from the ship’s office (rather biased towards France, but covering most major world stories) and having a walk round the deck, and sometimes a dip in the pool.
Today the commandant came into the lounge to ask us to aperitifs before lunch in the officers’ mess. Nice to be asked, and also a chance to find out what is going on, and when we’ll get to different places. A few comments about the rather misty incident in Lake Gatun from younger officers. The senior team are all very pleasant and welcome us into their mess. We speak a mixture of French and English. As a few of them speak immaculate English I think they’re humouring us some of the time when we speak French. However, with the mix of language we all understand each other.
I talked to the second officer and second engineer about their view of life on the sea. They were bemoaning the fact that there are too few officers on each ship now. It is apparently difficult to attract young men to careers on the high seas, despite the generous amounts of leave between voyages. Although on the surface it looks like a career where you get to see the world, in fact the port stops are often very short, frequently less than 12 hours, and there’s little time to see the places visited. They also commented on the lack of continuity of crews, often from Eastern European countries, who tend to work for a few years to set themselves up with a house and maybe a business, and then they leave the sea and are replaced by new people on a regular basis.
Sunday lunch is rather special, and lunch consisted of wonderful large prawns fried in butter and garlic, followed by loin of pork, beautifully cooked and as well as the usual cheese and fruit, delicious choux pastry buns a bit like éclairs, but without the chocolate.
The afternoon is easily spent sitting on deckchairs reading and gazing at the ocean as we glide by. Followed, of course, by another delicious meal in the evening. During the afternoon we saw a small boat out in the ocean, probably ten miles away from us. We were able to watch the boat using our binoculars for about twenty minutes. However, we were clearly travelling much faster and it became a speck in the distance and kept disappearing behind waves. It made us realise how vulnerable one would be in the event of a disaster to be floating around in a lifeboat, even a bright orange one – or even worse alone in a survival suit. The ocean is immense. It’s difficult to comprehend the scale.
The evenings are spent reading. The passenger DVD player is broken, and the part cannot be got until we arrive in Papeete on 8th November at the earliest. This hasn’t really bothered us, but it would be nice to be able to have music on in the passenger lounge.
Monday 31st October 2005
And what did we see, we saw the sea.
Today it rained for much of the day, and gradually got windier out on deck, so not much time spent outside. However, the ship’s library revealed a couple of good reads, so a pleasant time.
Tuesday 1st November 2005
We saw the Atlantic and the Pacific…
Today is All Saints Day. It is also the day we are due to cross the equator. We think that this will be at about 12.30, just in the middle of our lunch. I’ve read many stories of horrendous things done to passengers and crew members who’ve never crossed the equator by sea before. I await our fate with interest………………………………….. Nothing happened!
Spent much of the day reading and walking round the deck.
In the evening we sat with Raymond, Jeanine and Heide, and drank a bottle of champagne to celebrate the crossing. Another calm and quiet night.
Wednesday 2nd November 2005
And the Pacific was really terrific
Bumped into the chief engineer at breakfast and he arranged for us to visit the engine rooms on Friday afternoon. He also said that there was to be some sort of celebration tomorrow, Thursday to mark the crossing of the Equator – whether this is just for the crew or not we’ll no doubt discover.
I sent lots of emails today. Some to check on possible sources of accommodation for the first two weeks of our stay in Melbourne. The weather was lovely and we spent much of the afternoon sitting outside on the deck reading.
Clocks back an hour again tonight!
Thursday 3rd November 2005
We joined the navy to see the sea…
Slightly choppier again this morning. However, a lovely bright day to lounge about on deck! Today we’re due to have a barbecue in the evening, preceded by the ‘baptême’ of the five passengers and two crew for crossing the equator by ship for the first time.
We were collected by the ‘police’ from our lounge just before 5pm and handcuffed and taken to the front deck of the boat, where we were awaited by an amazing tableau of Neptune, his wife Amphrite, the navigator, the grand inquisitor, the bishop and the barber [all crew members gamely dressed up] the real captain and most of the crew who weren’t actually driving the boat.
The supplicants were addressed sternly by the grand inquisitor and we were all required to seek the forgiveness of Neptune for daring to be on the high seas, and in particular to cross the equator without his permission. We were all ‘forced’ to kneel and various penalties were discussed. Men and women received different penalties. The men were ‘shaved’ which involved having a disgusting pink mousse spread over our faces and then removed with a spatula. All neophytes were then offered the ‘penalty’ of drinking a disgusting drink. The drink was made by the chef, so we knew it wasn’t actually poisonous, but the two your French sailors made the most terrible faces. Either they were hamming it up for the crowds, or they were not used to the spices that were in it. It tasted sort of OK to us – rather like a non-alcoholic Bloody Mary.
Neptune and Amphrite then asked the navigator to check our position. Again, hammed up royally with a pair of wine bottle binoculars, then an enormous faux-sextant and then finally for laughs a portable GPS device. It was confirmed that we had passed the equator and that we could be baptised. We all trouped off to the compact swimming pool where, happily, the passengers were treated slightly better than the crew neophytes. They were thrown in the pool, fully dressed, and we were gently baptised with the bishop’s crook. We all received our certificates, which we need to keep safely against the next time we cross the equator by boat.
In the evening, supper started early with drinks for everyone on the ‘forward beach’ whilst an enormous barbecue [two half oil drums] was prepared. The wind was in the wrong direction to light the things properly, and so after 30 minutes of trying the second officer got on the walkie-talkie to the bridge and turned the ship so that the wind was more suitable. We should all have such a facility for our barbecues.
It was chef’s night off. He had prepared all the food, but we had to take our own portion and cook it to our liking. There was as ever, a mountain of food, but we were able to take and cook only what we wanted. The whole crew mixed well. The Romanians prefer to speak English, and the French are all capable of it, so we did very well for conversation also.
Weather overnight difficult for sleeping as the boat is doing long slow rolls which threaten to tip you out of your bunk. We have devised various ways of wedging ourselves in, and all in all, its quite soothing when properly wedged. It’s a little difficult with things like cups of tea. The roll starts slowly, and its not until half way through that you realise its continuing and that you need to rush for your cup or glass. Still its keeps you on your toes – sometimes literally.
Friday 4th November 2005
And guess what we saw….. we saw the sea.
There’s actually nothing to do – all chores are taken care of, there’s nowhere to go and so we have developed our own timetables. Kit goes up to the bridge mid-morning after breakfast to check that the guys are still doing it right. Currently the chart spread out on the chart table is absolutely blank, with the exception of the course line plotted across it. No islands, no land of any sort. The radar display is set at 40 miles and is absolutely blank. A few waves show when you look at the 5 mile radar. It makes you think when walking about the ship. If no-one noticed you fall off, that would be it. I somehow like to think that if the cross channel ferry sank it would be possible to swim. After all, I am a good swimmer and people do swim the channel and anyway you’d be starting from halfway across. But none of that applies here. Even if someone saw you fall, it takes so long to stop the ship I doubt whether anyone would spot you. I’ve been keeping a nervous eye on where the life belts are as I guess that ‘homme a la mer’s only chance would be to have a life belt or raft with a light and radar reflector for when the boat eventually gets back to you.
High spot of the day is a trip round the engine room. This has been laid on for us by the chief engineer who is also our guide. We are collected from our salon, issued with ear defenders and descend into the bowels of the ship. The engine room is familiarly known as ‘the cathedral’. You can see why as soon as you enter. The entry walkways are five stories up from the base. The engine is HUGE, very noisy and very hot. We’re not working there and spend all our time standing under forced air vents. The tour starts at the control room. Not my idea of a pleasant working environment – completely windowless with green consoles and computer screens. Less noise however and the ear defenders are not required. The chief engineer is proud of his domain but speaks very fast in language that he thinks is simple but is mostly incomprehensible to us. Happily Raymond is also interested and so the information is given to him, and the rest of us wander round as directed just being impressed with the scale of things. Seven cylinders, each of which can be isolated from the rest and worked on while the engine is running. Enormous horsepower, fuel consumption and all the rest. Generally its HUGE and turns the single propeller with enough oomph to spin us along at a little over 20 knots [approx. 38kph] 24 hours a day. That’s getting on for 1000km per day. Now that’s impressive.
Lots of BIG machinery, exhaust manifolds, and fans. BIG spanners and so forth. We can see that the boat makes all its own fresh water, electricity, hydraulics for the rudder and everything else. It’s the heart of the ship. We were all very impressed, but none fancied the engine room as a career. Many of those working there don’t fancy it much either, but CMA-CGM insist that all their senior officers are capable of being chief engineer or captain, and so you have to qualify in both.
posted by Liz and Kit at 1:55 PM
1 Comments:
I was glad to see you made it this far without problems, and that the Hurricane didnt get you! I see the endless meals weigh heavily on your minds, but strangely the gym hardly gets mentioned.
Take more pictures!
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