In case anyone ever asks you "What has two thumbs and has steered a 902 foot
ship through the Suez Canal?" you can let them know the correct answer is
"This Guy." Watching Egypt go by looks as great as it sounds- I definitely
wanted to jump off and go exploring, though the anti-Americanism is rampant
here at this time. Well, and either side of the canal is lined with guard
shacks and armed soldiers. The Egyptian flies, however, are like the
Egyptian vendors- persistent and annoying.
The tugs here have a side business- selling line (often incorrectly called
"rope"). What they do is grab your line and run with it. At a certain
point you have to stop it running or they get the whole thing, but they'll
smoke what you do put out if you're not careful, then heave on it in full
reverse and part the line where it heated up. Parting a line can mean
dismemberment and decapitation to the crew forced to deal with this. You
see the tugs with pallets of line on their deck and you have to wonder how
many limbs did those bastards take with them to get that line? What I have
been taught by the experienced crew here is to give it 3 turns, 3 eights,
and "stovepipe" the rest (basically, tie the line off to the ship) and only
put out enough line to use. They will always request more line, no
exceptions, and what we do then is yell over the side to the tug crew about
what their mother does with goats.
Anyway, in the Suez- as I was hoisting a boat load of Egyptian "Linemen"
aboard (boat and all) with the gantry crane, while the ship was turning
about 12 knots, it suddenly dawned on me- there is a lot of responsibility
placed on everyone aboard a ship. One bad move on my part and there would
be 3 less Egyptians to yell "no!" at over and over again.
To transit the Suez Canal requires a pilot, an electrician, the 3 linemen
(who do absolutely nothing but try to sell you trinkets and beads of the
lowest quality), and 3 tugs to lead the convoy. The pilot and electrician,
instead of using the pilot ladder, instead require the gangway. I don't
know why. The pilot directs the steersman (or helmsman, or driver, in this case,
me), the electrician maintains the "suez light" (a giant flood light on the
bow), which is to say he's hired at great expense to throw a switch... And
then, of course, the linemen do nothing but annoy. The electrician has it
in his contract that he gets a private room with a bed while transiting.
The linemen of course, moved into that room and refused to leave until the
Chief Mate had lost his cool (Seattle-style, of course- which means "become
stern" and repeat himself a lot). And of course, everyone wants cigarettes-
a throwback to World Wars I and II and a custom forgotten in most other
parts of the world. I even had one guy ask to buy my shoes off my feet.
The linemen eventually set up their knick-knacks in the hallway in front of
the elevator, which prompted the crew to become venomous and needlessly
confrontational, at one point "The Great Dane" threatening to kick one of
them "like a dog." The entire show was great fun but I walked away with no
souvenirs.
The Red Sea, at this moment, means nothing more to me than the place where I
finally went to sleep after the frenzy that is the canal. Time for my
diphenhydramine and sleep (yes, the hives are still with me).
ship through the Suez Canal?" you can let them know the correct answer is
"This Guy." Watching Egypt go by looks as great as it sounds- I definitely
wanted to jump off and go exploring, though the anti-Americanism is rampant
here at this time. Well, and either side of the canal is lined with guard
shacks and armed soldiers. The Egyptian flies, however, are like the
Egyptian vendors- persistent and annoying.
The tugs here have a side business- selling line (often incorrectly called
"rope"). What they do is grab your line and run with it. At a certain
point you have to stop it running or they get the whole thing, but they'll
smoke what you do put out if you're not careful, then heave on it in full
reverse and part the line where it heated up. Parting a line can mean
dismemberment and decapitation to the crew forced to deal with this. You
see the tugs with pallets of line on their deck and you have to wonder how
many limbs did those bastards take with them to get that line? What I have
been taught by the experienced crew here is to give it 3 turns, 3 eights,
and "stovepipe" the rest (basically, tie the line off to the ship) and only
put out enough line to use. They will always request more line, no
exceptions, and what we do then is yell over the side to the tug crew about
what their mother does with goats.
Anyway, in the Suez- as I was hoisting a boat load of Egyptian "Linemen"
aboard (boat and all) with the gantry crane, while the ship was turning
about 12 knots, it suddenly dawned on me- there is a lot of responsibility
placed on everyone aboard a ship. One bad move on my part and there would
be 3 less Egyptians to yell "no!" at over and over again.
To transit the Suez Canal requires a pilot, an electrician, the 3 linemen
(who do absolutely nothing but try to sell you trinkets and beads of the
lowest quality), and 3 tugs to lead the convoy. The pilot and electrician,
instead of using the pilot ladder, instead require the gangway. I don't
know why. The pilot directs the steersman (or helmsman, or driver, in this case,
me), the electrician maintains the "suez light" (a giant flood light on the
bow), which is to say he's hired at great expense to throw a switch... And
then, of course, the linemen do nothing but annoy. The electrician has it
in his contract that he gets a private room with a bed while transiting.
The linemen of course, moved into that room and refused to leave until the
Chief Mate had lost his cool (Seattle-style, of course- which means "become
stern" and repeat himself a lot). And of course, everyone wants cigarettes-
a throwback to World Wars I and II and a custom forgotten in most other
parts of the world. I even had one guy ask to buy my shoes off my feet.
The linemen eventually set up their knick-knacks in the hallway in front of
the elevator, which prompted the crew to become venomous and needlessly
confrontational, at one point "The Great Dane" threatening to kick one of
them "like a dog." The entire show was great fun but I walked away with no
souvenirs.
The Red Sea, at this moment, means nothing more to me than the place where I
finally went to sleep after the frenzy that is the canal. Time for my
diphenhydramine and sleep (yes, the hives are still with me).
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