Day 9

11 September, 2003

Having met up with the gulf of Aquaba during the night, and fully joining the Red Sea. It is hot and close, with a mist. We have the two larger and newer containerships that came with us through the canal, on each side of our stern. Yes, we are being passed, finally. The chief has slowed us down a bit to let them get on with it, because the speed difference might means it takes hours to pass and that could cause a dangerous restriction to maneuvering in case of any emergency. They slowly go ahead (I would see them later at dock in Singapore). Imagine, about ten thousand tractor trailer loads all heading for the far east at the same time. A lot of empties in this direction, I imagine.

A real breakfast again, “eggs to order” Reebo announces. Later he cleans the cabin and sets me up with a new big box of cookies. Shame on Rappin’ Reebo. I feel like I need a bit of inside quiet after yesterday’s incredible experience. So I stay in cabin and read and write, do a laundry with these wonderful Miele machines. After lunch (some kind of beef croquette) I do a spin around decks but it is too humid so I go work on the exercise machine. The chief officer, a bit of a butch, would be Harley kind of guy, makes another attempt at friendship, lending me a best of country music cd. Country is all he likes. But these are cheesy knock offs and rerecordings, including some early seventies stuff that couldn’t really be called country. What... a funny ship, the captain likes opera, the chief country and it goes down from there! I am listening to fake country on a German ship in the Red Sea! We still have our feathered friends, cavorting about and looking healthier then ever, I think they have sprouted some companions! Maybe they are migratory and catching a free ride! I hope they have relatives in Singapore.

Outside the crew is getting busy with ship stuff again. A constant strip and paint life. A ship is the largest list of things that need being done you have ever seen. And as the “free market” effect means it is a business of pennies, smaller and smaller and cheaper and cheaper crews are the order of the day. Outside of the subsidized shipping company, these businesses totter on bankruptcy all the time. There is a long list of failed and failing companies. But as tight as shipping costs are, the captain says he sees the telltale of the world economy, and volume is picking up again. Meanwhile the ships are being built, larger, faster and cheaper. Our girl, already six years old is getting long in the tooth. These ships are simple industrial devices. They have none of the gewgaws that might make some things easier. Just a good set of the basics, a big and fast engine, and the rest is put on the back of the will and resourcefulness of the officers and crew.

When I was, for a short time, involved with the trucking of refrigerated swingin’ meat (many decades ago) there was one trucking outfit whose owner took pride in giving his drivers trucks outfitted with the best and the biggest. This meant they were always passing everyone on upgrades. Because of this the passing lane took on the name of the company. It was known as the “Montford” lane. That is not the thinking behind these ships. It is, “what is the least we have to do to spend the consistent results we want”. But that could be the ‘raison d’etre” of all business.

By the late afternoon the sea has calmed down, the sky is clear, Saudi Arabia on one side, Egypt on the other. Dinner is a birthday party for the second engineer (my other neighbor)!!! What that means is that at our seats we have, instead of cool-aid, we each have a can of coke, a can of Fanta, a bottle of Holstein and a bottle of Jever (all normally sold to the crew and passengers out of the slop chest a couple of times a week) sitting by our glasses Wow! I don’t know if it is a national or maritime trait, but meals are almost always silent (except for the Filipino table which I always look jealously at, but one sits where one has been placed... one does.... always). This celebratory dinner is almost silent other then the captain (who comes early and leaves early) who makes some strange jokes. I keep trying to appreciate them. I like him, he is trying hard and I believe he is very good at what he does (which goes without saying, but I do think it). I kind of get his jokes and I think he kind of gets mine. He joked to a worried Reebo, that he shouldn’t have made such a celebratory table as “our American” might think we are celebrating 9/11 and be offended (slowly Reebo cottons on it is a joke and not a lesson har-har). The Captain allowed as he told off the head office again today, and pointed out to me that the German licensee of Coca-Cola is Max Schmelling, who is still alive at ninety-four. Later on, when Frank the mechanic comes late as usual, a few German jokes go around. I get the impression that the chief engineer is a bit humorous, we just haven’t tried to have a conversation. Frank the mechanic reminds me of a good Mercedes mechanic. Smartly groomed in a bit smarmy but friendly way. I am basically glad we have German engineers and mechanics remembering the old saw about the difference between heaven and hell. I did not crack that one at dinner.

The sun sets beautifully at 18:35, and like the desert it starts getting cold. An hour later, the almost full moon rises over Jeddah. Tonight the clocks go ahead again according to the captains logic. Tomorrow there is a piracy drill. I must stand around going “avast, mateys.... shiver me timbers!!!”.

I am very glad I took this trip (so far), it really feels expanding. To be places that you have heard about for fifty years, to experience places with one’s own eyes, nose and ears (I have really piqued my interest in traveling around the Arab world, of course now probably cut off to me between Israel’s and America’s behaviors). To have this great period disconnected from communication, no newspaper, magazines. Only the BBC world service, no phone calls or internet for ten days so far, I don’t remember the last time. It is amazing to me, how much beauty I have seen in the last few weeks, starting in Cornwall. I will admit, to a bit of thinking, a real live woman, the smell of a woman, would be lovely. But all is perfect as it is.

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