Fair Seafarer by Nancy Allen

Author:Nancy Allen [Allen, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781461622963
Publisher: Bridgeworks
Published: 2013-06-26T00:00:00+00:00

I ask Bob for a translation. “The message is from Mr Ryu, Sea-Land’s cargo manager in Pusan. He’s telling us that, as usual, dock space won’t be available until tomorrow. That’s because South Korea’s cargo-handling needs — — importing frozen food and exporting Samsung TVs and Gold Star computers — — has outgrown its ports.”

I didn’t know that ships of Endurance’s size anchored. I ask permission to tag along for the operation, since I haven’t seen the bow — hidden as it is by a thousand containers. We walk forward along the main deck, boxes hanging over our heads like a steel canopy, before dead-ending at a high bulkhead. A narrow ladder slopes upward. We climb the ladder, run into another steel bulkhead, turn a sharp corner And there, like a secret compartment, lies the bow.

The triangular area is the size of a condo. Mounted on the chipped red deck are enormous wheels, levers and bitts; ropes and chains lie coiled like sleeping pythons. The anchors themselves are carried outboard, with their shafts thrust up inside the hawsepipes on either side. Most amazing of all, two people — the Chief Mate and Chris, the octogenarian Bosun — vare poised to anchor forty thousand tons of steel.

The Chief Mate and Captain speak back and forth on the walkie-talkies. “Both anchors ready, Captain.” “Okay, Bob ... starboard anchor ... five shots in the water” (Sbots are ninety-foot lengths of chain, connected by shackles.) Bob then shouts to Chris, “Let go, Bosun!” As Chris puts leverage on a steel wheel that disgorges chain from a locker below deck, he warns me, “Stand back!” No problem there; I jump like a flea when the chain flies out, coughing up a cloud of rust and dried mud. That’s why half the Bosun’s face is covered with goggles. As the links — each of them more than a foot long — pass over a drum, they beat out a thunderous rhythm like a heavy-metal band.

The whole operation, from arrival to securing the anchor, takes an hour; then, stillness. With the engine shut down, gone are the pulsating pistons and clanking containers. I could be back on my old sailboat, swinging quietly at anchor. And yet, waiting for sleep, I find the silence unsettling. It’s as if the ship has stopped breathing. I want the engine’s rhythm back — and most of all, my vibrating bed.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.