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Diary of a Grand Voyage

Law of Intertia & Wall of Freedom

english Posted on 2011-01-09 07:21:30

Our first so-called “Day at Sea” was very long, and open wide. Cloudy it was too, threatening rain in the morning, literally held up by the heavy, moisture-gathering wind. And the humid heat took possession of the open decks by mid-afternoon.

Before this slow newsday started though, the captain had decided to change “Ship’s Time” to EST+1, UTM-4, Brussels-5. For short, and for general understanding, it is called “Atlantic Time”, as if the ocean can be squeezed into one time zone. Let it be said that the captain’s decision was not based on a straw poll of the passengers. Getting up an hour earlier, largely unexpected and still unadjusted, was not their first choice. Knowing that democracy is only suited to run countries, they didn’t hold a sit-in either.

Before moving any further, an apology is due. Indeed, I announced that we would make the Hispaniola / Puerto Rico passage on the same day that we left the Bahamas. Did I imagine me riding in my BMW M5? Was it Inertia at work? Let it be said: the sea is not in a hurry, and speeding is a very relative concept for the Prinsendam! Therefore, add 24 hours to my estimate and blame it all on your inexperienced servant. Wiser now, I can confirm that if you add another 30 hours you will find us arriving in Barbados: at 6am on January 9.

Nitpicking through yesterday’s “events”, an example of my good manners comes to mind. There was this old(er)couple for whom I held a (non-automatic) door open, so that they could pass without having to worry about being pushed over, or back, by the hydraulic door pump. With “Thank you, young man”, they expressed their gratitude. How right they were, saying “Yong Man” on this ship and on this voyage. Within this context, it is self-evident that a man of 25 would nigh be considered kindergarten-grade. But, as there is no prep school (except for internet “proficiency”), there are no 25-year olds neither. Adolescence begins at 60 on Prinsendam.

On the second Day at Sea, the clock didn’t change but the sun didn’t know. Consequently, the passengers didn’t have to rise earlier and all were in synch on lunch hours and the like. The sun though, she rose much earlier, and climbed a bit higher in the sky. After leaving Barbados and steaming in a straight southeasterly direction for more than two days, we have lost 14° of length and 11° of latitude. Solar time, steady as a rock, tells the true story, no matter how much the captain fiddles around with his, and our clocks.

I have meanwhile come to realize two things. First, the essence of time changes down here, in these wide and empty expanses – there is tons of it, and the true length of this voyage is starting to sink in. It will definitely push me outside of my “comfort zone”. According to plan, so to speak! Second, all of sudden I got this strange idea, around noon today, that I was in front of a “Wall of Freedom”. Until know gym-ming, jogging, eating, reading and blogging have filled time and space, but today I was short of “filler”. A wall to scale: fata morgana? sunstroke? None of it, and no alcohol either. I have put on my climbing gear – so to speak – and went straight to the Crowe’s Nest, in the front, at the top. A cozy oasis of silence and calm. The Piña Colada went very well with my revisiting Spinoza’s writings about substance. It feels like the climbing has already begun …

At this moment we are sailing close to the gap between Martinique and Santa Lucia, to regain the Atlantic. The wind has picked up considerably and the target gap is just 25 miles wide. The waves are having a ball. An hour from now, when wind, water and ship squeeze through this little hole, rock and roll could enhance our dreams while we (try to) sleep!

Prinsendam, Saturday January 8, 2011, 2300hrs

On the Road to Barbados [better: On the Wave)



Made it … with Luggage

english Posted on 2011-01-09 07:19:07

When I savored the fresh pineapple on Wednesday morning in the hotel, I hadn’t heard from Luggage Forward. For all I knew it could still be Luggage Wayward. After the pineapple, melon, scrambled eggs and accompanying bacon, had found a quiet place to convert themselves into energy, the agent called with the good news that my luggage had left Cincinnati Customs at 2347hrs, and that it had stante pede been transferred to a plane bound for Miami, where it had arrived at 0700hrs. The truck trip to Ft. Lauderdale was now just a formality, the M ‘am said.

At 11am we got on a bus, to the Sea Terminal.. When it was almost full, the lady in charge asked whether everybody was on board, and she meant it! From the reactions of various passengers it was obvious that Alzheimer had not seriously affected the group. The laughter encouraged her to start counting … As much as the passengers profile matched the cynical predictions of some cruise connoisseurs, I was personally surprised about and impressed by the courage and perseverance of many grossly overweight or unfortunately disabled guests! CONATUS in action!

The rest of the day was filled with good news. First, they bumped me to a better “stateroom”, although they didn’t know about my extra space requirements for my shoulder rehab. Secondly, once on board I quickly realized that I was young enough to be a crew member rather than a passenger and, thirdly, bag after bag, my luggage trickled in. It could have been worse.

The ship sailed around 6pm, on our nocturnal way to Half Moon Cay, Bahamas. When I looked outside my cabin in the morning, I noticed that the balcony floor was quite wet. Had we had rain or a storm? The latter seemed unlikely because I didn’t notice any unbecoming leftovers on my pillow.

It had been rain all right. In fact, the wind blew at 20kts and the waves were about 6ft. Putting out the tenders to go ashore required extensive maneuvering. When I stepped out to have a look, I noticed the Maasdam opposite from us. Listening to the Cruise Director’s message one could safely assume that the bridge officers had noticed it too! No panic.

American combativeness doesn’t linearly decrease with age. I knew, but got another example early this morning. Indeed, as I politely let an older gentleman and his wife pass in front of me at the gym entrance with the words: “Age before beauty, Sir”, he quipped back: “You consider yourself beautiful?” Taking the high road, I padded him kindly (and prudently) on his frail shoulder and realized that I hadn’t shaved! That explains …

Tomorrow night we have our first formal dinner, at sea. I admit that my dark suit doesn’t sit comfortably; I had a pre-boarding plan to improve on that. The concerted effort continued after the fitness, with the breakfast: two slices of rye bread, two tranches of peppered tomato, some raw salmon and NO butter, NO eggs, NO chocolate, NO croissants. It is a tall order but you can’t say that I am not doing my very best, for now.

Tomorrow will be a day at sea, between Hispaniola and Puerto Rico and then on to Barbados. Now that I have mostly recovered from the race-to-get-there, I will spend some time on the subject of “Conatus”.

Prinsendam, Thursday January 6, 2011 at 2300hrs

North of Hispaniola (where Columbus discovered “Americans”, so to speak)



Muur van Vrijheid

nederlands Posted on 2011-01-09 07:13:07

De kapitein is blijkbaar niet van plan om het zogenaamde “scheepsuur” te veranderen: het blijft voorlopig UTM-4, Brussel-5 of gewoon “Atlantische Tijd”, alsof die oceaan maar één tijdszone breed zou zijn. Een vast scheepsuur helpt natuurlijk voor de “aanboordlingen” om op tijd te zijn voor bv. de lunch (12 tot 14), maar dat heeft geen vat op de hemellichamen. Terwijl we naar het zuidoosten varen tegen 20 knopen, blijven zon en aarde gewoon op hun eigen ritme evolueren, de zonnetijd. Dat betekent o.m. dat de zon van de éne dag op de andere niet een beetje vroeger opkomt, maar verrassend veel vroeger; en omgekeerd bij het slapengaan. Zij klimt ook elke dag hoger in de hemel. In de laatste twee dagen zijn we, traag maar zeker, reeds 11° gezakt en 14° opgeschoven (naar de “Levant”).

Foto’s heb ik vandaag niet genomen, los van enkele mentale plaatjes voor toekomstig schrijfsel- gebruik. Nu ja, na twee dagen op een eindeloze zee met elke golf pictografisch hetzelfde, en tegelijk onbeschrijflijk anders, is fotografie geen nuttige of interessante tijdsbesteding. Tegen de middag ben ik me wel voor het eerst beginnen realiseren dat haar lengte en zeetijd deze reis inderdaad “buiten de comfortzone” brengt. Over dat specifieke doel hoef ik me alvast geen zorgen te maken, het is “in de sacoche”.

Na de gym, het ontbijt (spek met eieren – ’t is sabbat en dan mag er voor een katholiek iets meer bij zijn) en rondneuzen in de “Shore Excursions Brochure” voor Brazilië, was het half elf. Zomaar schoot me dit immaterieel beeld te binnen: Wall of Freedom. Totnogtoe ben ik altijd intuïtief en ongedwongen “bezig geweest”: wat fitnessen, wat lezen, wat eten, wat bloggen. En plots, om half twaalf, zag ik hem, uit het niets opgedoken ….een muur, om te beklimmen. Veel gedronken had ik zeker (nog) niet. Zonneslag? Fata morgana? Wie zal het zeggen? Een “Muur van Vrijheid”, zo kwam het me voor. Maar … was ik ook dààrvoor eigenlijk niet naar hier gekomen?

Uit grote schrik voor fataal energietekort bij het klimwerk, ben ik maar snel gaan lunchen, op het wijdse, baksteenloze achterdek: pistousoep en vegetarische lasagne. De volhouder wint: Montignac kan hier écht! Ik zal binnenkort een foto van mezelf opsturen zodat de schok over mijn gewichtsverlies niet te groot is, straks wanneer ik, over de muur, terug thuis ben …

In de namiddag heb ik dan moedig mijn klimijzers aangetrokken, om naar het Crowe’s Nest te stappen. Dit Kraaiennest ligt vooraan, op 12. Hoger en verder kan je niet meer. De naam is perfect gekozen. In tegenstelling tot de tijd van Columbus is het in dit Crowe’s Nest lyrisch rustig, heerlijk koel, met een windloze horizont. Met slechts drie andere bezoekers leek het niet meteen de populairste plek op het schip. Dat vond dit kwartet niet erg. “s Avonds verandert het nest zo te zien in een pianobar, met dansvloer. Tegen de klok van drieën ben ik er geruisloos, en verder onopvallend, in Spinoza gedoken. De eerlijkheid gebiedt me om te vermelden dat een overheerlijke Piña Colada daarbij een gewaardeerde compagnon is geweest.

Alle gekheid op een stokje, het is nu zes uur en de zon is juist verdwenen. De wind waait terug harder uit het zuidwesten en het schip rolt merkbaar. Om middernacht worden we verwacht tussen Martinique en Santa Lucia. Op Google Maps meet dat gat nog geen 40km, een gaatje dus. Ik ben (nog) geen zeerat maar het lijkt er sterk op dat we vanavond onze eerste echte ervaring (aanvaring?) met ietwat serieuze golven zullen meemaken…

Prinsendam, zaterdag 8 januari 2011, 18u40

Onderweg naar Barbados [wellicht beter “overgolf” ipv “onderweg”)