people choose a certain career path, they often find that the ultimate goal is not as easy to reach as their fantasies made them believe. Dreams conveniently skip a lot of the less pleasant steps necessary to be negotiated on the slippery road to the top. I was no exception, and my arduous journey was one of slips and falls, and many times I feared my career would come to a screeching halt. Also, the various positions I’ve held – including the present one – were hardly what my imagination had led me to believe.
As a child, I always wanted to be a captain and, full of ambition, I chose to go to the nautical academy. Once there, I expected to be taught what a job at sea is all about, how to navigate a ship, how to handle the cargo, but the reality was somewhat different.
The teachers, mostly ex-ships’ officers, no doubt knew what they were talking about. However, all too often they didn’t end up in their present teaching position because of a genuine desire to transfer their knowledge to the next generation. No! They often found themselves in front of a classroom because of the pressures from a nagging wife. Full of suspicion about the colorful tales she heard when the guys got together, she decided that her husband needed to be beside her at night and not in some foreign port full of lures of sirens and booze. Such nostalgic stories these teachers often told about the fun and the romance of life at sea rarely, if ever, touched reality.
For sure, we all know that there will be storms and adventures. But would anybody ever suspect that seasickness is such a terrible disease? Probably not. And even if some of us knew about it, we certainly didn’t expect to be affected. After all, hadn’t we crossed the local lake many times without being sick? Not only that, but you quickly find out it’s a disease everyone else seems to take a sadistic delight in when you’re the victim. I must say that having mastered the problem, I can’t help but grin when I see a literally-green apprentice seaman embracing a toilet bowl like a long-lost girlfriend.
Then there are those fantastic ports you’re supposed to visit. Sure, they’re exotic enough, but nobody told you that cargo work on a blistering hot deck would take twelve hours of your day. Often uneasy hours, too, when you see some bearded toothless longshoreman dressed in rags longingly eying you – a blond-haired boy fresh from home.
Finally the time comes when the long work hours are over and you head for the pleasures of the town. Never alone, of course. The captain is adamant about that.
“Make sure you stay together, and hide your money. Be careful about pickpockets. Never pay the price the vendors ask, always haggle, and never show your cash. Never stray into alleyways, and stay away from women and… ” The list goes on. But he’s not called the “Old Man” for nothing, and surely he worries too much.
In a boisterous mood you walk down the gangplank and head for the gate, only to discover that the city is miles away and taxis are hard to come by. The nice security guard will call a cab for you. He doesn’t even ask for any payment for this friendly service because a small gift will do. Then finally you are underway. The initial impression many times is that you have ended up in Japan, even though the scenery flashing by the car window suggests differently. But why else would that driver display all those Kamikaze habits? Soon you get used to the man’s erratic behavior and chalk it up to the fact that other countries have different driving habits than your own. That the man hardly speaks English doesn’t matter either, because he seems to know where we want to go.
But when he drops us off at the most unsavory looking part of town and insists we pay an inflated fare, we suspiciously look at the hood of the car expecting nothing less there than the proud logo of Mr. Rolls and Mr. Royce supporting such huge price. Then the bar so colorfully described by your colleagues turns out to be a dreary place with a concrete floor and full of rough looking men with huge moustaches that hang limply in their beers. A place definitely not to be described in detail in a message back home!
Of course, there are many bright spots in the life of a young seaman, and for those lucky enough to start their careers on cruise ships, many of the negatives mentioned don’t apply. We don’t have to walk a mile before we’re at the port’s gate. We simply take a shuttle bus. Then once at that gate, the town often is just across the street. On top of that, we’re docked in a part of town we wouldn’t mind telling our mothers about!
All this explains somewhat that the road to becoming a captain is a long and often difficult one. It also accounts for the fact that once the position is within reach, many staff captains or chief officers can hardly contain their impatience and want to take the final step as soon as possible. They painstakingly keep track of what their chances of promotion are. Some are even known to have a spreadsheet on their computers listing the names of the various captains, their retirement dates and, even more important, their ailments! One particularly eager chief officer I once sailed with had gone to the length of installing a risk calculator on his laptop, not unlike those used by life insurance companies. He diligently logged the various captains’ habits, like who smoked and who ate too many fatty foods.
My current chief officer doesn’t go to such lengths, but it’s true that whenever I go to the gym and pass by his office, I detect a slight disapproval in his eyes and his lips curl upward a bit in the corners displaying an insincere smile. I think he’s biding his time, and not too long ago his chance finally seemed to have arrived. He grabbed it with vigor, only to have it slip through his fingers.
It all started when our first officer decided it would be a great idea to have his parents join him on a cruise. The company was offering some great incentives, so why not take advantage of them? On a beautiful day in Civitavecchia they came on board for a voyage through the Mediterranean. The weather was beautiful and the cruise went on without any trouble. I must recount a small incident in Messina, Sicily, where we did one of our periodic Man Over Board drills. We repeatedly blared the secret code word for such an event over the open decks and into the town. “Mr. MOB, report on starboard side!” This was not appreciated by the local criminal society and our agent later counseled me that it might be wise not to go ashore in the near future as some very important and dangerous people felt they were being ridiculed.
But as I said, the cruise went well for everyone until a few days later, when the first officer’s father developed some health issues. This, of course, was a great concern to him and nervously he monitored the situation, but everything seemed to be going well until early the last morning of the cruise.
This was when our chief officer, his first cup of coffee of the day in his hand, sleepily wandered onto the bridge to check on the progress made in approaching the Civitavecchia pilot station. Maybe there still would be time for him to make a quick round of the decks – it was early enough not to be disturbed by the usual distractions when the same thing was done during his normal working hours. Also, I was still happily asleep and not yet in any position to disturb his day.
Slurping his coffee, he yawned and looked sideways. It was still dark on the bridge, but dawn was about to break and already spreading some faint light around. The first officer was on the phone, a worried frown on his face while a hushed conversation was going on. Finally he put the phone down with a deep sigh. His mind not working at its normal speed yet, the chief asked, “Was that the old man? You look worried, anything wrong?”
“Yes, he told me he’s hyperventilating and needs a doctor right now! I’ll give the hospital a call,” the First answered, reaching for the telephone.
The chief almost dropped his coffee cup. A window of opportunity suddenly opened up and he knew he’d have to grab the chance!
“You stay with the navigation! I’ll call the hospital. He needed a doctor, you said?”
“Yes, but I can…”
The chief already had reached for his cell phone, turning away from the First, who was quite busy navigating the ship. What
