During my watch yesterday afternoon up on the bridge, a funky, burning smell
assaulted me and the mates as we yapped about some mundane, unimportant
triviality. We radioed the cargo office and the chief mate confirmed they,
too, could smell smoke there, too- 7 floors down. Then the bridge started
to get a bit... hazy. Soon we had to open the doors for ventilation as the
smell of burning metal/rubber grew quite strong.
Within two minutes all work on the ship had ceased. Parties formed and were
dispatched to search the source of the smoke. There was no radio chatter,
there were no jokes. Contingencies and training were in my mind, for
sure... I'm pretty sure that was the case with everyone- None of the
normally incessant bitching was heard. Within 5 minutes
the source of the smoke was located- a bearing in one of the air handling
units had caught fire but fortunately didn't spread.
We are approaching the Red Sea via the Gulf of Aden right now, which is
probably the most patroled bit of water in the world. The radar continually
gets pinged by weird, crop-circle-like video from what I assume are the dark
and silent military vessels that frequently hail with "securite" messages
from such-and-such warship requesting all vessel traffic to report
suspicious or illegal activity.
Nevertheless, even out here in the empty, isolated Wild Wild Far-East, you
get your navigational jackasses who display reckless ignorance that could
get themselves killed (and get us a lot of paperwork). Last night we went
to hand steering as the second mate directed a series of manouvers to avoid
one idiot who crossed the traffic scheme. He was doing 6 knots... we were
doing more than 20. When you turn a ship going more than 20 knots you
definitely know it! She heels waaaaay over, really fast.
But since that was the extent of the excitement for that watch- I'll take
it. It did allow me to remove the toothpicks I'd inserted between my
eyelids to keep them open, at least... and judging by the complete lack of
conversation we had going on, that was true for the second mate, too.
Oh. Did I forget to mention that I am back on watches with the second mate
(who I like) and no longer on watches with the third mate I've been so
cavalier at disparaging? Having no internets means I can't simply scroll
down to see... The irony of this fortunate turn of events is that I'd
finally reached some sort of understanding with the third and we were moving
beyond the impasse that had accompanied us across the Atlantic, the Med, the
Red Sea, and 1.5 times across the Indian Ocean.....
It's 0830 and I've worked 8 hours already today... I'm going to bed.
assaulted me and the mates as we yapped about some mundane, unimportant
triviality. We radioed the cargo office and the chief mate confirmed they,
too, could smell smoke there, too- 7 floors down. Then the bridge started
to get a bit... hazy. Soon we had to open the doors for ventilation as the
smell of burning metal/rubber grew quite strong.
Within two minutes all work on the ship had ceased. Parties formed and were
dispatched to search the source of the smoke. There was no radio chatter,
there were no jokes. Contingencies and training were in my mind, for
sure... I'm pretty sure that was the case with everyone- None of the
normally incessant bitching was heard. Within 5 minutes
the source of the smoke was located- a bearing in one of the air handling
units had caught fire but fortunately didn't spread.
We are approaching the Red Sea via the Gulf of Aden right now, which is
probably the most patroled bit of water in the world. The radar continually
gets pinged by weird, crop-circle-like video from what I assume are the dark
and silent military vessels that frequently hail with "securite" messages
from such-and-such warship requesting all vessel traffic to report
suspicious or illegal activity.
Nevertheless, even out here in the empty, isolated Wild Wild Far-East, you
get your navigational jackasses who display reckless ignorance that could
get themselves killed (and get us a lot of paperwork). Last night we went
to hand steering as the second mate directed a series of manouvers to avoid
one idiot who crossed the traffic scheme. He was doing 6 knots... we were
doing more than 20. When you turn a ship going more than 20 knots you
definitely know it! She heels waaaaay over, really fast.
But since that was the extent of the excitement for that watch- I'll take
it. It did allow me to remove the toothpicks I'd inserted between my
eyelids to keep them open, at least... and judging by the complete lack of
conversation we had going on, that was true for the second mate, too.
Oh. Did I forget to mention that I am back on watches with the second mate
(who I like) and no longer on watches with the third mate I've been so
cavalier at disparaging? Having no internets means I can't simply scroll
down to see... The irony of this fortunate turn of events is that I'd
finally reached some sort of understanding with the third and we were moving
beyond the impasse that had accompanied us across the Atlantic, the Med, the
Red Sea, and 1.5 times across the Indian Ocean.....
It's 0830 and I've worked 8 hours already today... I'm going to bed.
OK, clearly you have forgotten I've already got all the white hair that I need. Smoke, fire, heeling over a 900-foot-something container ship ... It's time you propped your eyes open and just saw more flying fish or perhaps even a pod or two of whales, that kind of "crap". (That last is a wink at Laura. She's right, you know).
ReplyDeleteThe Momster