Container Ship Story – Day 17 – Crossing the Equator

[Directly transcribed from my logbook – introduction to the trip here]

Wednesday, October 22^nd, 2014. 

Today we should pass the equator. For this purpose there will be a small party tonight, and I guess the cook has in mind for dinner a few “specials”…

I get up at 5 am. Not much sleep in total given that yesterday I fell asleep only at 1 am, after watching a few episodes of an American series a friend gave me. I get up early this morning because I had decided to make bread! Ciabatta bread with olive oil and salt crystals, normal bread, plus small croissants, served for breakfast: it’s not my first time as kitchen hand onboard but doing some baking at an early hour is new 😉

When I am done with breakfast, I go for a little stroll outside and put my face towards the rising sun for a little while, and then I head back to the kitchen in order to prepare lunch: vegetables (peppers, onions, tomatoes), arancini, gnocchi. Yeepee! Now I know how to get the shape of gnocchis 😉 I also bake a sweet dough for a dessert whose name I forgot but which is very good, a roll of cooked dough stuffed with ricotta and candied fruits. All of these takes up to 11 am. Quite tired, I go and take a short nap before lunch, as well as a long one after!  No reading or knitting today…

In the afternoon, after resting, I am about to take my clothes from the laundry room when I come across Lou in the corridor. Lou is another passenger, embarked in Dakar together with her daughter Paola. We agree to chat around a drink, and so a few minutes later we head to the kitchen to ask for mint syrup. The cook immediately disappears in a cubbyhole and comes back a few seconds later with… rum and coke! There is usually no alcohol on board (except wine table wine for passengers at meal times), but today it’s different. We call Laurent, the other passenger, to join us and we end up having a drink as well with Vincenzo, the Chief Officer. It is only 5 pm! The party is already starting 😉  

[…]

The evening turned out to be a beautiful evening, quite unexpected on this kind of ship: Barbecue outside, all navigation officers in T-shirts, shorts and flip-fops! Pre-dinner drink with alcohol, with almost all the crew members, including those I hadn’t seen before. We danced a little before dinner, driven by Vincenzo (cadet) and Michele (second officer), and much after. Good atmosphere and good laugh, I would not have imagined such a party on board, given the seriousness and formal side of normal days. For example we made “the caterpillar”in the passageways and went into the captain’s room, singing “Braziiiil! Lala lala lala lalaaaaaa, lala lala lala lalaaaaaa…” !!!). Totally crazy.

We had dinner outside, we ate a lot, as usual (the food is always so good!). I would have loved to sit at a new table next to persons I didn’t know but Joseph, the steward, gestured to invite me to the captain’s table once again. For this special evening, I wore nice high heel shoes I had bought a few months before in Manila (very useless on a container ship otherwise!).

A little ceremony took place that night: Vincenzo, the Chief Officer, appeared dressed with a King Neptune’s costume, with a white beard and a trident, and delivered a little speech. Small gifts are traditionally prepared for people who cross the equator at sea for the first time: passengers get a diploma with a marine name – mine was starfish! –  and cadets get an haircut and receive a bucket of water mixed with flour and eggs on their heads… In our case, there was only water, it remained friendly, and funny. It was the only meal of the crossing where none of the officers, nor even the captain, had a shirt with epaulettes.

In fact we passed the equator at 23.15 local time (22.15 Rio de Janeiro time). I went to the bridge to be able to see with my own eyes the 0’00’ of latitude directly on the GPS.  In practice, it does not change much to pass this line, but it has a symbolic value.

I went to bed then, at around midnight, with the head full of dreams about what was awaiting me in this new part of the world.

Oceanic Feeling (October 2014)

Oceanic Feeling is “a feeling of limitlessness; a sensation of an indissoluble bond, as of being connected with the external world in its integral form” (Wikipedia).

It is also the topic of a research thesis, whose full title is: “Psychological Study of Long-Distance Traveler – Oceanic Feeling and Emotions of The Elsewhere” (in French here). Very appropriate read in my case, first because I was actually crossing the Atlantic Ocean – aboard a container ship – and because I was transitioning between Europe and South America via Africa, after already 10 months of travels spent in Asia and Oceania.

 

My activities, thoughts and emotions while at sea are hand-written in a notebook – 70 pages in total. 

Today I am sharing with you an overview of the trip, as well as the story of the very first day.

My wish is to see the whole story published one day, either online or in a paper book – who knows… In the meantime, parts of this odyssey will be progressively released to the rhythm allowed by my life.

 

Details about the trip:

• Time spent on board: 23 days, from the 6/10/2014 until the 29/10/2014
• Origin: Antwerp, Belgium,
• Destination: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
• Stopovers: Hamburg (Germany), Dakar (Senegal) and Vitória (Brazil).
• Ship: Grande America – Italian flag, length: 214m, heigth: 32m (13 storeys),
• Crew: 30 members, mostly Italians and Filipinos
• Speed: 15 to 17 knots at full power, corresponding to about 30 km / hour, hence around 720 km/day.

 

Diary:

• Day 1 – 6th of October 2014 
• Day 17 – 22nd of October 2014 – Crossing the Equator

 

 

On a remote Pacific island (19th of June 2014 )

Kingdom of Tonga.

Let’s start with a map.

Tonga is an archipelago located in the Pacific Ocean. It is surrounded by Fiji, Wallis et Futuna, Samoa and Niue.

Tongatapu, the main and biggest island, is 260 square kilometres. That’s where I had the chance to work as a woofer, in a village called Veitongo, 5 km from Nuku’alofa, the capital city.

The daily life at the farm will be related in another post. What I would like to share here is a  specific story of serendipity and “beatitude”.

In the middle of two weeks at the farm in Veitongo, I did a trip by myself to islands of the Haʻapai group.

I first spent a few days on Uoleva, in this little “fale” (bungalow), on the beach amongst coconut trees.

 Barefoot from dawn to dusk, following a natural rhythm of sleep and eating, I enjoyed the quietness of the place, the welcome of the locals and the beautiful surroundings. My main activities: swimming in the ocean and reading in a hammock!

Were given to me two of the most precious gifts of nowadays: time and silence.

I very especially appreciated the silence of the night. Indeed, it made a big difference with the barking of dogs and cock crows I was used to at the farm.

There was no village on this island, or school, or church. Only 3 guesthouses with families welcoming a handful of travellers. In total there were 9 permanent residents in the whole island, and currently on this side, 4 other tourists: an Argentinian couple and two women from Australia.

The sun was variable, we had several rainfalls and wind. But it didn’t matter a lot, given the fact that when you go and swim you are wet anyway! And I had a good book to dive into otherwise.

With my mask and snorkel, I went exploring the underwater world: rocks, corals and fish, and even continued the fauna exploration on the beach with hermit crabs and a big spider.

You might think after a few days it was boring. Well, it could have been… but it wasn’t.

A recurrent feeling I noticed in Tonga: every time I had the sensation that I had examined a spot from all angles, something unexpected happened and re-enchanted the place. This kind of surprise happened several times during my trip.

One day, when coming back to my “fale”, I felt like walking further.

After leaving my footprints on several hundred meters of beach, I discovered a small beach bar, its owner a guy from South Africa, as well as a Kiwi couple who was sailing with its own boat across this part of the Pacific Ocean for five months. They had used their dinghy to come to shore and have a drink at the local “Yacht Club”!

I didn’t expect to find a bar here in such a remote place! We talked and laughed a lot, we shared stories and discussed about what made us love life. As most of the New Zealanders I had met in their homeland during the previous months, they were super nice. They invited me to a barbecue on the beach the day after.

The picture below shows the sunset from the beach, with their sailing boat and a volcanic island in the background (whose name came out of my head).

That night Bruce and Chris also offered me a ride to Lifuka, the main island of the Ha’apai group (3 000 unhabitants). Returning to Lifuka was actually my initial plan but I couldn’t do that on my own because of the Sunday. In Tonga indeed, on Sundays everything is closed and there is no bus or boat or even flight service. Nothing outside of praying, eating and napping in family.

It was thus a great opportunity! Not only I would have the time explore more during the two days I had left before my ferry back to Tongatapu, but I could also enjoy sailing for a little while. I was delighted.

During these moments, I truly appreciated the beauty of travelling. My story was writing itself: I barely had time to imagine the future, it changed according to new parameters. At this moment, my wish was to keep “surfing” on this wave and to not interrupt this so rich and extraordinary lifestyle.

A few kilometers thus on the majestic blue boat.

Breathing at the bow, feeling all the cells of my body, remembering the present moment: I was on a sailing boat on the waters of the Pacific Ocean, from an island to another. This was priceless.

Back in Lifuka, in the afternoon.

First, that feeling of “what am I going to do now?”. On a Sunday as a tourist, indeed there was not much to do. Except walking around.

Never tired of walking, I went to both sides of the island (10 min to cross!). I wasn’t expecting anything more from the day. It was already awesome enough to sail from an island to another with new friends and share a fresh lunch with them!

Wandering around in the village, my only encounters at the beginning were dogs, chicken and pigs.

Then, suddenly and very softly, I heard voices. People were singing, all together, the sounds brought by the wind coming from the ocean.

I came closer. I stumbled upon a procession: men and women in traditional clothes, dignified and reverential. Children were all dressed in white.They were so much into their song and the meaning of it, it was very touching.

It was obviously a religious celebration. I didn’t want to interfere but someone waved his hand to signify that I could follow the group, which I did. This is typically the kind of event you feel shared as a traveller: on the one hand, you would like to see what’s happening and take pictures to pay homage to the beauty of the scene and be able to remember it, on the other hand you feel like staying in the scene and living it, because it is what matters most.

They stopped at a temporary place of worship. I put myself on the side. There, I managed to exchange a few words with one of the elders. He confirmed there was no problem for me to be here as well as for pictures.

Then they left, in procession again, still singing. They walked a few dozen metres and reached a church to continue the celebration inside. I sat quietly at the back of the church.

I don’t believe in a god, but what was happening before my eyes was beyond religion. Seeing these strong Tongan men kneeling and singing with all their heart really touched me. I cried. It was a beautiful moment of grace, a singular moment when I felt smaller and bigger at the same time.

It didn’t last very long, but enough to forget time was passing. Time was flying somewhere (else), here we experienced eternity.

An old man told me that this was no ordinary Sunday. I didn’t get exactly what he explained afterwards, so I never totally understood the meaning of the ceremony.

A few organized group pictures with the kids. I was the only white person and the only tourist in this crowd. As the place is not a major tourist destination, they almost did not pay attention to me. I felt relieved not to be noticed.

I was lucky to experience something like this, nor expected or wanted, and so authentic.

It is incredible how you feel lighter when your heart is full.

I was full of gratitude, not only for this particular moment, but for my whole travels.

Thought I had enough joy and emotions for the day… Before coming back to my sleeping place, I looked for a good spot to watch the sunset. A beach would do.

Thus I sat there, in front of the ocean. Waves breaking on the reef about 200 meters from shore roared incessantly. They gave rise to ripples who came to lick the sand, more gently, a few meters away from my feet. The wind, the declining sun.

The Pacific Ocean has never been better named. Almost no waves.

A tiny butterfly came and flew around me for a second, then left.

That was how I finished my day.