DCdt’s Log 250952 May 2016 SMT

UTC –8

113 days,

6 countries,

16 ports,

33,738 nm (ish),

2 round trips,

8 sim cards,

5 blackouts,

1 fire,

1 oil spill,

2 hospital visits,

5 air con failures,

1 NUC,

1 smashed phone screen,

Not enough sleep,

Too many terrible puns,

And a boatload of memories.

And so it finally draws to a close.

Being on board the last 4 months has been an incredible experience. From joining as a baby phase 2, first ship cadet with only three months of college to prepare me, to leaving a more competent, confident and knowledgeable person (dare I say seafarer..? I daren’t. Maybe after a couple more trips). It’s actually staggering how much I’ve learnt on board, do with a whole range of things, from quick tricks in celestial navigation, practical working knowledge of steelwork and fire fighting equipment maintenance, being able to read container and loadicator plans, how, when and where to follow different legislations, and how they all work together, and even finding spare time to learn all the words to the classic German hit 99 Luftballons. This really has been a productive, interesting and overall enjoyable four months away.

As soon as I got my email telling me my repatriation date back into the UK I got excited. I started devising a list of places to go, things do to, eat, drink etc. Nothing makes you miss home and your family and friends more than being away from them.

Now before you say “No shit, Sherlock”, what I mean by that is that even if you’re away from people in the UK, you can still pick up a phone at any moment and call/text/WhatsApp/Facebook/Telegram/Viber/Snapchat/Tweet them, and whilst you’re waiting for a response, check out your notifications, the news and how many dimples there are on a regulation golf ball. (it’s 336, now that I’ve got you wondering). And as for missing something homely, again, if you’re in the UK, you can normally just go out with friends to take your mind off it. At sea, neither of these things are quite so easy. TSD’s top tip: if you’re going to sea, make sure you have lots of pictures and videos of home and loved ones on you phone/laptop/tablet/printed out, whatever to take away with you. I have spent a good few nights just sat on my phone gallery going through picture after picture of family, friends, and even just pictures of home. One night I even found myself watching a whole host of Snowbear videos I found hiding on my phone, not even that I was in a bad mood, but it uplifted my spirits tenfold. And with regard to contacting home, every ship is different and have different facilities, some are great and have Wi-Fi, but most will have Sat phones you buy credit for, and free emails back home, so make the most of these. Also, when alongside, make sure to track down whoever it is that is selling the local sim cards so that you can get data and make your phone crash with your inordinate and obscene amount of notifications. On this point, I have made a list on what to bring to sea, if you are about to enter your first sea phase and want a little helping hand on what to pack [link incoming upon return to UK].

Some places that I’ll be visiting as a matter of urgency will be; Leaf, Tortilla, Almost Famous, Ship & Mitre, Jackaranda, The Salisbury, Rococo, Jesters, Dancing Man, and last, but by no means least, my own bed.

It is truly unlike anything I’ve ever done before, and a real opener for the shipping industry as a whole. I think it’s a real shame that most of the UK (and probably the world) is ‘sea blind’. This is the term for people who don’t appreciate or know just how much both domestic and industrial products and parts are imported and exported through sea channels, and how much economies rely on thousands of ships every day to be on time to arrive, leave, load, unload, everything. I would definitely say I didn’t quite realise the scale that these things are done on until I joined my first ship. And when you look at the responsibility and the values of the cargoes being transported, and it all comes down the the ship’s company of roughly 20-30 crew and officers per ship.

I think it’s particularly sad that this is the case in the UK, and island nation where we import 90% of all of our products from overseas into our ports. Everything from your Ben & Jerry’s right through to huge raw materials for construction and crude oil to then distil down into petrol and bitumen, amongst other products. It’s fascinating to try and fathom just how much we as a country rely on our shipping. If the UK were to close all of it’s ports for a day, the effects would be felt immediately, as shops suddenly would not be stocked, petrol prices would skyrocket as the supply rapidly dwindled down to nothing, and as I mentioned earlier – no Ben & Jerry’s. It’s just a world not worth thinking about.

For such a huge industry, it’s a pretty thankless job, that not many people know about, and are not aware of the risks the men and women that work in it go through every day, just to ensure everyone back on land has a ‘normal’ day. I’m not just talking about the seafarers of course, but also the likes of the stevedores and foremen that work with the loading and unloading, lashing and unlashing of cargo. If a container falls on them, even an empty, they’d be crushed instantly, lashing bars, twist locks, turn buckles, tools, anything can fall off, and that little hard hat and hi-vis jacket will do nothing. Even a lone twist-lock falling off of a container could still easily kill someone if it fell on their head. These are specific to container ships, but tankers and bulkers have a great fire risk with their cargo, not just loading and discharging, but also just when sailing. Those that work on the ships have these risks too when in port, but when traveling from port A to B, there is of course the weather aspect to think about, not just the whole ‘perfect storm’ idea, but even rough enough weather to make someone fall, stumble down some stairs, or have something not correctly secured fall on them. There is the constant risk of fire by having an engines and generators running 24/7, entering enclosed spaces that could be filled with noxious gases, and generally using specialist tools and heavy machinery to make/mend/maintain other bits and pieces; acetylene torches, arc-welding, and more drills, saws, hammers and knives than you can shake a stick at.

But you know, back to a positive note, I’M ALMOST HOME! See you cats soon!

Once I’m back home as well I’ll upload a [somewhat] abridged gallery of some of my favourite photos I’ve taken on board.

So this has actually turned out to be quite a lengthy post.. Soz abar that.

Have this amusing picture marking the subtle differences of bees and wasps to make up for it. (Not mine, found online)

See, and who says I don’t do anything for you?

See you back in Blighty! Now time for me to enjoy as many miniature gins as I possibly can, which I think I have earned by now… British Airways – best start stocking your inflight bar, JS.

I must now bid you adios, Auf wiedersehen, and adieu,

-The Scouse Deckie