Entertainment For Lively Minds
5 weeks and I'm going home
That's it, 5 weeks and I'm off home again. If this was a reality TV show, at least one of us would have had their effigy burned in the streets, a the rest of us wouldn't be able to stand the sight of each other.
But we're not like that, we are normal people doing a job that always needs a lot of explaining.
I get paid to be the Chief Mate on a charming little ship that supplies a few oil rigs with all they need to function. We work out of Darwin at the very top of Australia. We either sweat in the humid stickyness of The Wet, or sweat in the eyeball frying heat of The Dry.
A bit about the job just to get you started:
The ship is the Lady Melinda, wieghs 3000t, does about 11knots (15mph), and gets through about 10,000ltr of deisel each day. Sounds a massive amount, but do the sums and we beat the pants of anything with wheels!
We are blessed with an internet connection, which allows me to do things like this. And above it all, download that lovely weekly podcast from messers Hepworth and Ellen, and all their chums.
There 11 of us on the ship, all with our own cabins. Mercifully we all have a stereo, and the bridge of the ship, where I am most gainfully employed, has a computer that is networked to about a billion music files on the ships computers!
Music is the key to it all. 4 hours of uneventful watchkeeping are much more bearable when there's a tune filling the air. And 5 weeks of being onboard a 71m x 15m steel box pass with ease when we all have something to listen to.
I've done my time, said I'm sorry and they are letting me go. So back to the bosom of my family in New Zealnd I am now headed. In 5 more weeks I'll be back, sweating again.
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Cripes!
It's Joseph Conrad!
Have you got a picture of this tub, er, vessel?
We want to see it.
Are you sure
he isn't Herman Melville? It all sounds very Typee!
Avast!
So what's rocking your boat?
Sailor? The Marine Girls? The Waterbouys? Seasick Steve?
Let us know.
Shiver Me Timbers
I'm jealous, especially as I've only just discovered I'm too old to run away and join the Merchant Navy. Is this her?
Thar she blows!
I'm convinced.
Good eyes me hearty!
Well spotted look out!
I am reminded of...
...The Walkabout's delicate cover of The Storms Are On The Ocean, where the last solemn drumbeat dies away, leaving in its wake the faint noise of a ship's engines.
It's one of those ambient, man-made sounds that someone like myself, who has never been faced with the realities of a life at sea, can't help but imbue with a degree of melancholy and romanticism.
Far Canal?
Ectoplasm! Ostrogoths! Coelocanths! Ten thousand thundering typhoons! Billions of bilious blue blistering barnacles!
I always liked Captain Haddock.