Читать книгу The Captain's Log - Hans Psy.D. Mateboer - Страница 5

Days at sea, I am convinced, are the best part of a cruise. The relaxing in the sun at the ship’s pools, the late mornings, a leisurely breakfast with no pressure to go ashore, is what cruising is all about. This is true for the passengers as well as the crew. Of course, we all go on a cruise or to sea, to see something of the world, and at first glance, an itinerary with a new port every day appears very attractive, but after a few days of port hopping the sea days become more and more appealing. Of course a cruise without ports would be pointless. After all, everybody wants to go somewhere.

Wouldn’t it be odd to report to your neighbor, during the weekly Tuesday evening of bridge, that you didn’t go anywhere, only to sea, and that for two weeks! Gossip about you would run wild and friends would start avoiding you, putting your mental stability in question. It is a fact however that the more experienced a cruiser becomes, the more he or she appreciates the sea days. Those who ponder making their first cruise however, often go for the itinerary, crammed with as many ports as possible. To me it seems that we are not doing a great job in educating those, by bringing the sea day more to their attention in all its glory.

While it’s not unusual that a brochure allocates half a page describing the joys and pleasures of each port of call, the sea day is mostly simply called, “sea day.” Experienced cruisers often read between the lines of those brochures and look for what is not there.

It was one of those sea days, a most beautiful one in the Caribbean. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, and a light wind kept the temperature to a level that was just right. The previous day we had sailed from Curacao and were en route to Barbados just about half way into our ten day cruise. I was on duty on the bridge on the 12 to 4 watch, and in the best of possible moods. Outside, on each bridge wing, crew members were hard at work. On one side, a sailor was sanding and varnishing the teakwood railings to a dark and rich tint. Even simply watching that job gave me huge satisfaction. Wood is such a beautiful material, and applying the varnish, making it gleam like a mirror, while at the same time being outside, certainly is not a job to complain about. Every now and then I walked outside and chatted with the sailor who was painting, and he explained to me how he did his job.

“Varnishing is more difficult than you think, Sir. First you have to use rough sandpaper, and then give it a coat of varnish. Then you do it with a finer grade and give it another coat.”

“What’s in there?” I pointed at an unmarked can containing a watery substance.

“Oh, that’s the converter, Sir. You add it, and then the varnish dries faster. The more you add, the faster it dries. Feel it.” He pointed at a railing part he just finished.

I made a mental note to remember this, as I was planning to pursue an advertisement I had seen, announcing a little wooden sailing boat for sale, which without question would need tons of varnish.

“I only did this part half an hour ago and it’s almost dry.” The man was right; it was amazing. The railing shone like a mirror, and he only just had finished working on it.

“Oops, almost three. Time for coffee”.

The sailor put his brush in a can with thinner, closed the can with varnish, and with a, “See you later,” he went down to the mess room. I too went inside and poured myself a cup. Sipping on it, while leaning on the window sill, looking out over the blue sea, I was at peace with the world.

Now that I have at length mentioned the sailor painting, you might want to know what crew member was so hard at work on the bridge wing at starboard side. Well at that side there was the captain, working very hard to get a nice suntan. He had organized a deck chair with a little table, and with the bridge wing being a restricted area, he was alone, and had all the privacy he could wish for.

I only had been on board for three weeks, and it was the first time I had ever sailed with him. Already, during a few occasions, I had found out that he was not exactly an easy-going man. It still upset me thinking back on how he had reprimanded me in public for only the smallest offence. Therefore, I stayed away from the starboard wing.

Every now and then I peered out of the side window and saw that his many days of hard work were paying of. His whole body was tanned a deep color of brown. It even could be seen underneath the thick lavishly curling hair on his barrel shaped chest. The man must be strong as an ox, I reflected. While fairly short—he could not have been much taller than 5 feet 6—he looked to be almost as wide as that.

Turning back, I took another sip of my coffee, watching the distant horizon. Far away, I saw some movement. I put the cup down. Did I see a whale spouting in the distance? Reaching for my binoculars, I stepped back a few paces. Yes, I was right. A few miles ahead of us I saw a group of whales, maybe six or seven of them. Even though seeing those great mammals is not that exceptional, observing a whole group is not a daily or even a monthly occurrence. Should I make an announcement? The passengers without doubt would love to see this.

Using the public address system though, put me in a quandary, as this was discouraged by our company. The passengers were supposed to be on board to relax, not to listen to all kinds of announcements. But surely, a group of whales would be of enough interest to the passengers to warrant this disturbance? Not wanting to receive another dressing down, for a moment I did not know how to proceed. Suddenly a brilliant idea popped up in my mind, why not ask the captain? He was close by, and his agreement would cover any comments I could get.

“Sir, there are whales close by, should I make an announcement for the passengers?”

“Huh, what? … Whales? Where? Yes of course. They will love it, where do you see them?”

“At the other side—about a mile away now. There must be about seven of them.”

Apparently very interested in marine life, the captain got up, grabbed a pair of binoculars from the bridge and hurried to the other side, while I made the announcement.

“Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention please? We are approaching a group of whales on our port side ….”

My announcement must have been heard by every soul on board, and within a few minutes the railings were lined with hundreds of passengers and crew alike. So many were there, that the ship slightly listed under their combined weight. The captain was no less enthusiastic than anybody else.

“Look there, he must be at least a hundred feet, and that one, look!”

It was obvious that I had misjudged this man slightly, as someone who had such an obvious love for nature around him and could show so much appreciation for these magnificent creatures, could not be too bad a human being either. After we had passed the whales, a short while later, I went back inside; after all, an officer on duty should not stay outside away from his instruments too long. After awhile, however, it did puzzle me that the captain remained outside, still leaning heavily on the railing looking at something far away. I walked back to the side of the wheelhouse to see whether there was something I had missed.

“Hhggnnnaagggnn …!” I nearly dropped the binoculars. What a horrible sound. Had we hit a whale or what? Quickly I opened the door to the bridge wing.

“Did you hear that? What was it?”

The captain still had his back turned to me when he answered, his voice sounding uncommonly muddled..

“Get me off. I’m stuck to the railing!”

“You’re what?”

“You idiot! Can’t you see that I’m stuck? Couldn’t you come out when you saw that the whales had left?”

“But what … what do you mean?”

“I’m stuck to the varnish! Don’t you get it, you block head! And don’t talk so loud. Before you know it the passengers will see me.”

I must say that at first I did not know what to do. The captain, except from making grunting sounds, trying to get off, didn’t offer any solutions either, so it took me a while to get my wits together. Call for help. That would be the best. After all, I could not leave the bridge.

“He is stuck to the what?”

The staff captain, woken from his afternoon nap, had to be told two times before he began to understand the situation even remotely, and then one more time to convince him that his navigator was not affected by a severe case of sun stroke.

A few minutes later, still tucking his shirt in his pants, he was on the bridge and together we walked outside where the captain still stood, making valiant efforts in pretending that he was still intently watching the horizon.

“Hello, Sir. Are you stuck?”

A strangled sound came before the poor man answered.

“Yes, you nitwit! What do think? I’m stuck to the wet varnish.”

The staff carefully touched the railing next to the captain.

“It’s dry now,” he uttered stupidly.

“Yes, I know, but it was not earlier, when I leaned on it when he called me for those stupid whales.”

As it turned out, I was not the only one having difficulties finding a solution to the captain’s predicament. Like with me, it also took our staff captain a while to get his thoughts together, as clearly he was as much at a loss as I had been earlier. To be honest, it was a bonus for both of us that the poor captain was stuck with his back to us with little chance of him suddenly turning around. What he would have seen then would certainly have caused a few dismissals.

Both of us, at last, clearly saw the whole situation in its true context and we had a very hard time not to laugh out loud. The poor staff captain even retreated to the corridor behind the bridge, where he laughed unrestrictedly for about five minutes straight. Red as a beet and tears rolling down his cheeks, he returned. We went outside again.

“Let me get you off, Sir. One moment.”

Without warning he grabbed the distressed and unsuspecting captain by the shoulders and vigorously pulled him back as hard as he could.

“AAAAUUUUWWWW, you idiot, what are you doing, you butcher, you ….”

The captain, clearly was quickly losing what little patience he had left, and kept going for while, describing in very explicit terms of what he thought about his staff captain and what he would do, once he would get off the railing. This to us of course, in no way was an incentive for us to get things going.

“You really are stuck.”

The staff captain observed, after having carefully investigated the situation in front of him a bit better.

“And your armpits too. Let me get the carpenter.”

After that, it didn’t take very long before the bridge was a scene of frantic activity. Every officer suddenly had some urgent business that required him to be there and of course to have a peek outside where two carpenters were busy working around the captain to unscrew the wooden railing from the steel stanchions. When it finally came loose, between the two of them, they carried the piece of teakwood inside, the captain still stuck to it, struggling in the middle. Once inside, we carefully put a chair behind him, while one end of the railing was put to rest on the maneuvering console and the other on a bookcase.

“Get out of here, all of you.”

He hissed to the assembly of onlookers, with such venom in his voice, that it took less than a minute for everybody to disappear— except of course for the carpenters, the staff captain, and me. Never before did I have such an eventful watch with so much excitement on the otherwise so quiet bridge.

Slowly, hair-by-hair, the captain was cut loose by the carpenter. It took almost two hours in which I learned how creative a person under extreme duress can use his language, and I was impressed. The captain also gained my grudging admiration for not having a massive heart attack during the whole embarrassing episode. Finally the job was finished, and within seconds the captain disappeared, his arm held high, as not to touch his tender parts and a bright red beam of bare skin on his chest which looked as if a farmer had passed to cut the grass.

It’s a strange thing maybe, but I never bought myself the wooden sailing boat I always had wanted so much.